#please feel free to ignore this I just needed it out of my head

[be-xkyy]

Yandere Vampire

Warning: sexual content, blood, murder, menstruation, isolation.

I apologize for the bad Romanian, I'm not very good at the language and ended up using google translator. Thank you for your consideration 🖤.

Yandere Vampire who lives in a remote castle in the woods of Romania away from hateful humans, only approaching nearby towns when he needs to eat.

Yandere Vampire who first sees you after you and a group of campers approach his castle (don't you know you should never go near castles in the middle of nowhere? Fools.)

Yandere Vampire who smells a delicious smell of blood coming off your body and examines you looking for cuts or bandages on you. (He finds none)

Yandere Vampire who stalks you from the shadows and smiles evilly when you decide to enter his "abandoned" castle fascinated by its architecture, he will have a little feast today. Of course he will.

Yandere Vampire who begins to get rid of your friends one by one, making the rest of the group nervous and scared. Thump—Thump—Thump. His eyes widen in pleasure at the sound of your frantic hearts.

Yandere Vampire who leaves you for last, killing all your friends first leaving you alone and scared, he follows the scent of your blood, he finds you hiding in a room with your hands covering your head.

Yandere Vampire who approaches you and grabs your arm pulling you to your feet he laughs when you try to slip out of his grasp and uses his free hand to grab your jaw tightly his sharp nails hurting your cheek he feels your body shudder.

Yandere Vampire who freezes when his eyes meet yours he feels like a dead heart is beating between his ribs. Mate. You are his mate. HIS. He lets go of your face and wipes the blood from the cut on your cheek with his thumb then he brings his thumb to his mouth and hums. Sweet. So sweet.

Yandere Vampire who tries to lull you and calm you down murmuring "I don't want to hurt you please calm down, Draga mea (My dear)" but his words fall on deaf ears as you keep trying to escape his hold so he holds you by the waist with his arm and puts his free hand in your hair forcing your head back and without hesitation sinks his teeth into your neck.

Yandere Vampire who ignores your whimpers of fear and pain as he sucks your blood, delicious sweet blood, he eats like a starving man and only stops when you go limp in his arms from the loss of blood, he pulls away from your neck licking his lips and takes you bridal style and leaves the room taking you straight to his chambers.

Yandere Vampire entering his opulent chambers walks to the huge bed with you in his arms before setting you down on the silk sheets, he studies your pretty features feeling lucky to have such a beautiful and delicious companion like you although fiery but he can fix that.

Yandere Vampire deciding to tie one of your ankles to the bedpost with a shackle, just to be sure you won't try to escape your fate, he then strips off his clothes and climbs onto the bed approaching you to remove your clothes he makes quick work of it until only your cotton panties remain.

Yandere Vampire stopping abruptly his eyes widen as he lowers his head to your covered pussy and presses his nose against your pussy as he sniffs deeply. Blood. so this is where that delicious scent of blood was coming from. Looks like he's in for quite the feast after all.

You wake up feeling dizzy and with a weird feeling between your legs, you adjust your eyes to adapt to the gloomy light of the room that seems straight out of the Victorian era, you look down gasping when you see the man who was chasing you before between your legs, you automatically try to kick him off the chain on your ankle jingles and he holds your thighs firmly lifting his head you can see his mouth and chin stained with your menstrual blood and your juices. You feel sick.

His eyes meet yours and a smile slides across his lips as if he can sense your displeasure, your fear. His cold hands rub your thighs and he says with a low purr "Your fear is unnecessary dragul meu (my love), you could never hurt yourself you are my partner, my soulmate" you swallow at his words and try to gather courage before saying "I don't want to be your nothing... you are a monster! You killed my friends! Let me go, I want to go!" He is surprised for a moment before letting out an amused laugh that makes you press your lips together in annoyance.

He stops laughing and stares into your eyes with his surprisingly serious face and you feel chills from the sudden change in attitude, tensing up when you hear his next words "I don't care what you want, you can stay by my side as my companion and my equal or you can stay as my pet, but you will stay" you feel tempted to fight, to hit him and try to escape but you don't think you can get very far with that shackle on your ankle... so you resign yourself... for now.

He notices your resignation and feels a little disappointed, actually he expected a little struggle from you but that's okay, he's just as pleased with your submission. He leans closer to your ear as he murmurs his cold breath making you shiver "Good girl, I knew you'd see reason, dragul meu (my love)" He pulls away only to settle between your legs his cold body settles against your hot one, he grabs his cock and rubs his swollen head against your wet and bloody slit you can't help but let out low gasps at the sickening sensation.

He teases you for a long moment before finally sliding inside your pussy which takes his cock with embarrassing ease, you lean your head back against the pillow and dig your nails into the sheets when his cock bottoms out, he doesn't give you time to adjust and begins to thrust into you with vigor your moans escape from your open lips filling the room along with the jingling of chains and wet sounds, he leans down to kiss you without slowing down the pace of his hips, his tongue dominates yours and you moan at the taste of your juices and blood mixed together.

He breaks the kiss only to place kisses on your jaw moving down to your neck and chest where he leaves multiple bites murmuring things you don't understand against your neck "Ce fată drăguță și ce sâni frumoși, ești a mea, draga mea. (what a pretty girl and what beautiful breasts, you are mine, my dear)" your legs tense around his waist you feel your orgasm approaching, he seems to feel it too as he uses the hand holding your thigh to rub your clit his finger rubs rhythmic and firm circles making you get close to the limit without being able to bear it anymore you cum on his cock your vaginal walls tense and an "o" forms on your lips.

He chuckles at the fucked out expression on your face and moves harder, his balls slapping against your ass and his grip tightening on your thighs. His eyes close as he cums, slowly slowing down as his surprisingly cold seed fills your womb. He pulls out after a moment, you whimper at the empty feeling and he smirks before coming closer, saying in a wicked voice, “Don’t worry my dear, we’ve got plenty of lovemaking to do, eternity to be exact.”

[darlingdaisyfarm]

oohhh ok this is so self indulgent but do you think you could do a short fic with ford comforting his fem!s/o that's crying because she doesn't feel like she's pretty enough? thank you lots of love 🥺🩷

prettier than a supernova | Ford Pines x reader

some people give compliments. Ford Pines gives a full scientific breakdown of how breathtaking you are

a/n: this is my soft little love letter to anyone who needs a reminder that they're perfect as they are. sometimes you need someone like Ford to tell you you’re worth more than the stars themselves. angel i hope this makes you feel warm and loved. just a little something to remind you that no matter what, you are stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful (also this can be read as gender neutral too!! this photo here is bc i love it and i think it just suits ford bc of sweater)

You don’t mean to start crying, you don’t want to. You press the heel of your palm to your cheek, frustrated. But that ugly feeling has been sitting inside you all day, heavily pressing against your ribs. Stupid, you think, you shouldn’t be crying over something like this. But it happens anyway as tears starts streaming down your face before you even realise what’s happening.

It started earlier. You’d caught your reflection in the mirror and for a second you had seen yourself the way you feared everyone else did. wrong. Lacking. Not enough. You ignored it at first, shoved it down, swallowed the bitter taste of self-doubt like it was nothing. But then it came back.

You thought Ford wouldn't notice, being too busy in his studies. But in the perfect silence of the Shack, your quiet sobs sounded louder than his own breathing.

“Darling,” Ford sets his book aside without hesitation. “come here.” his voice, as always sounds so quiet and calm, but it’s the way he holds out his arms that undoes you completely. There’s no question, no hesitation, just him, offering warmth, safety, attention, care.

So you go, you let yourself sink into his lap, curling up against his chest and the moment his arms come around you, your sobs break free. You press your face into his sweater, gripping the fabric and shut your eyes tightly.

Ford just holds you. No words, no shushing, he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t try to fix you. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head as he lets you cry, lets you bury yourself in his warmth, lets you be small in his arms. And you cry a little harder because no one’s ever done this before, not like this. No one’s ever let you be messy and sad and vulnerable and still held you like you’re worth something.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs after a while, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. ”talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head because the words feel ridiculous and too embarrassing. But Ford just waits patiently, his hand never stopping its slow motions against your back.

After a while you whisper. “i. . . don’t feel pretty enough.”

Ford stays silent. The sentence you said doesn’t compute, the equation is missing a crucial variable. His brain thinks. You've just said something factually incorrect.

He is quiet long enough that you regret saying anything at all.

“Not pretty enough?” you wince at how ridiculous it sounds when he says it. You stay silent again. “talk to me, please, you’re too important to me to watch you do this to yourself.” last words didn’t come out the way he had planned, but it doesn't matter. The sadness in your eyes is enough to make him want to shield you from everything that ever made you doubt yourself.

“I don’t know, Ford, sometimes i just feel. . . just not enough.”

Ford takes a deep sigh and pulls back to see your face. His hands come up, six fingers framing your cheeks gently.

“But, love,” he brushes away the lingering tears on your skin. “who put that idea in your head?”

“Just. . . my brain, i guess.”

Ford frowns at that response, trying to figure out how to undo that thought that’s been rooted in you for too long.

“Listen to me, you are the most stunning, breathtaking person i have ever had the privilege of knowing.”

You sniffle, trying to look away, but he doesn’t let you, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze.

“Not just beautiful,” he continues, “though you are, undeniably. But everything. Your mind, your heart, the way you see the world, i have never known anyone like you. And i never will. You are brilliant and strong in ways i could never hope to be.”

You avoid his gaze, looking down despite his tries to keep your eyes on him. Ford notices, of course he does, he always does and before you can fall apart all over again, he kisses you. So soft, a gentle press of his warm lips, reassuring you. “I wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” he says quietly into your lips. But you shake your head and pull away, laughing through your tears, feeling how emotions overwhelm you again.

“Ford, no—“

“No,” he interrupts and you notice how his voice gets more serious. “you need to hear this. After spending thirty years traveling through dimensions, seeing entire different galaxies and universes, watching alien creatures with more eyes than you can count, none of them, not a single one of them, come close to how breathtakingly beautiful you are.”

You make a small, broken sound and Ford just holds you closer as he continues. You’re speechless, heart hammering in your chest.

“And don’t get me started on physics,” he laughs softly, pulling you against his chest and caressing your hair. “you are more fascinating than a perfectly symmetrical snowflake viewed under a microscope. More miraculous than the way hydrogen atoms fused together for billions of years just to create you. Darling, i’ve held technology so advanced it blurred the line between magic and science. But none of it, none of it, has ever left me as breathless as you do.”

He’s so serious, absolutely devastatingly serious. You don't know if it's the exhaustion or the overwhelming love in his genuine voice, but another real sob breaks out of you before you can stop it as you hug him tighter.

“I really. . . just really wish you could see yourself the way i see you. You are the most extraordinary thing i have ever encountered and i have traveled across the multiverse.” and it's damn truth because when Ford looks at you, he sees more than just a person. He sees a universe, complex and ever-expanding, a mystery he will spend his lifetime trying to understand and yet, always be awed by.

Your chest is aching. It’s too much, he’s too much. So you do the only thing you can think of. You kiss him. It's kinda messy, still wet with your tears, but Ford doesn’t care because the second your lips touch his, he pours all his feelings into it, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, reminding you of just how much he cherishes you, in every universe, in every corner of space and time.

And that's all you ever needed, to be held like the most beautiful thing in his entire universe.

“If the universe is infinite, then so is my love for you. If the stars will burn for billions of years, then let me love you for all of them.”

Ford cradles you against his chest, rocking you in his arms in a slow, soothing motion to calm his beloved. And for the first time in a long time, the voice in the back of your mind, telling you you're not enough, fades away replaced with the warmth of Ford's love.

“So, no, honey. I don't want to hear you ever say you’re not pretty again. Not when you're the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. Not when i know you are worth more than every star, every dimension, every equation in existence.” you pull him closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart as you close your eyes, smiling softly.

The first rule of observation is to watch closely, to notice every detail, to understand what no one else does. And Stanford notices everything about you.

[coryosbaby]

helloooooo i read your donnie darko fic and omg i love it!!! youre an amazzzzing writer!!! i have a request for donnie darko if thats okay!! maybe a smut with a fem reader? their at a party and they both run into each other for the first time and they both become equally obsessed with eachother? you can take it from there!! if you dont feel like it feel free to ignore this:)

note: I don't feel like writing smut right now so I didn't include it. buuuut I love this concept and might make it into a little blurb series with smut later on!! so here it is :)

CW: awkward first meets, oversharing, alcohol briefly mentioned, allusions to sex, alternative reader/alternative Donnie, and becoming friends <3. Both are in college.

Your head pounded as you slammed the bedroom door behind you. It had been a long night-- you weren't necessarily a party-goer, but you had came with one of your friends and you needed to find a quiet place to settle your thoughts. The bedroom you had made your way into appeared to be a boy's room, but you paid it no mind as you plopped down on the bed. It appeared to be clean, so you took the chance. You laid back as your hair pooled around you. Glow 'n the dark stars were stuck to the ceiling. Some were different colors, a jumble of rainbow pooling together in your vision. As you watched the blurred lines between the ceiling and the glow of them, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you hear a voice behind you.

"Hey, dude. This is a no-enter zone. If you're that guy from earlier, disrespectfully get the fuck out, please."

The boy seemed to have been in the bathroom which connected to the room. He was tall, with jet black hair and blue eyes; he didn't appear to be a member of the party, because he was in pajamas and a freshly rinsed toothbrush was in his hand. You sat up quickly from your spot, your face flushing.

"Sorry!" you said sheepishly. "I thought this room was empty."

The boy rolled his eyes. The look on his face told you he was about to give you a piece of his mind, but before the words could spill out of his mouth, he seemed to stop in his tracks.

The light from his window had caught on your face. Donnie couldn't see you before, but now you were revealed to him in such a way that made his breath catch. He softened-- he would've been nicer if you were a girl, regardless-- and his anger seemed to dissipate.

"No, no," He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. ''s fine. No harm no foul."

Your eyes were wide and your pupils slightly dilated. Were you drunk? Donnie figured it was definitely a possibility, but perhaps not. Maybe it was the way you were looking at him with wide, perplexed eyes.

"I'll go," you reply. "I didn't mean to invade your space."

You stand, your skirt pooling to your feet. You cringed a little when your jewelry made a jingling sound in the quiet room. As if this situation couldn't be awkward enough. You were about to make your way to the door, but the boy's voice stopped you again.

"Uhm," he started. "If you-- if you're drunk, or somethin', and need a place to sit down, I don't mind if you stay... my sister's room is probably being occupied by her fuck of the week, so."

So he was Elizabeth's brother-- that made sense. You were acquaintances with her, but besides that the two of you didn't talk much. You knew, however, that she was the one that had thrown the party.

"I'm not drunk," you replied, then paused. "But.. would it be okay if I sat here for a while? It's too loud down there."

He gave you a soft smile, and your stomach flipped a little. He was cute, and appeared to be around your age. You knew he was only a few years younger than Elizabeth, but so were you.

"Yeah, sure."

"Cool," You made your way back over to the bed, gently sitting down. "So what's your name?"

"Donnie," He grinned a little. "You don't have to sit on the edge of the bed, you know. You were just laying down on it."

You liked the way the name rolled off of his tongue-- sultry and sweet at the same time. You enjoyed the way his eyes raked over your face like he was committing it to memory. You shuffled around on the bed, a grin spreading across your face as you watched Donnie disappear into the bathroom again. His smile was contagious.

"I'm (Y/N)," you replied, loud enough so he could hear. "Your sister is in my ap class at University."

"Oh yeah?" you heard shuffling, and the sound of a pill bottle opening. "I go to University, too. Not that one, though. Longwood."

"No shit? I applied there, too."

He walked back into the room, plopping down beside you. He sat up against one of the pillows, his arms draped lazily over his head. You tried not to stare at the biceps he had.

"Too bad you didn't go. You seem like someone I would be friends with."

You shrugged, your words soft as you said, "We could be friends now, if you want."

He smiled. His thigh grazed yours, just barely, and it made goosebumps trail across the skin. "You're right. We could be."

After a moment's silence, you examined the shelf in front of his bed. Donnie seemed to be an avid DVD and CD collector, and when you caught sight of one of your favorite movies, your eyes lit up.

"You like Nightmare on Elm Street too?"

"Obviously,” he replied. “Which one is your favorite?"

“The first one.”

“No fucking way. The sequel.”

“A sequel can never outdo the first movie, dude—“

“Says who?”

“Says every rule of film ever.”

The conversation seemed to flow easily after that. One of you ended up putting in Nightmare on Elm Street, and you sat comfortably next to Donnie. Somewhere along the line, your head rested on his shoulder. Your eyes were almost close to fluttering shut when your flip phone lit up beside you.

'Where r u? Need someone to pick me up' read the notification. The words belonged to your little sister. You sighed-- it seems that you weren't the only one who was ready for a night out.

"Shit."

Donnie looked over. On the screen, Freddy Krueger reached out one of his clawed hands. "What?"

"Nothing," you replied. "I just need to go pick up my sister, that's all."

"Oh. Yeah, okay. That's cool."

"It was nice meeting you." you said.

"It was nice meeting you too," and then, as you made your way to the door, "Hey...uh, Could I maybe get your number?"

"Of course."

You fumbled for a sharpie in your bag. When you pulled it out, you grabbed ahold of Donnie's arm. You wrote down your number in bold letters, ignoring the way his pulse point throbbed erratically when you accidentally pressed against it with your thumb.

"Be careful, or it'll wash off." "Trust me, if I lose this i'll torture myself for the rest of my life."

The smile never left your face as you closed his bedroom door behind you and descended down the crowded stairs. Perhaps you had made a friend.

--

General taglist:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz @nemesyaaa

[yandere-sins]

I love you so much, you know? I’ve been reading your work for a while now and I’ve been holding back from requesting until now. I just read your Sylus fic and oh my god??? I can’t anymore. You write him so good I was engrossed the entire time. I wanted to request some LaD stuff from you but I didn’t know if you played the game or even knew it existed (despite its popularity) so I was too embarrassed to.

That brings me to the request itself. Xavier is my fav, if you’re comfortable writing for him, can I ask for a possessive/obsessive fic for him? How he’d be possessive/obsessive in a yandere sense, since we already know he’s pretty possessive canonically. I get major wolf in sheep’s clothing vibes from him. And I think he has potential yandere traits with the whole “No matter how many times it takes, no matter where you are… I will find you.”

I love how you write smut so I would love some of that in it, if it feels right to you. If not that’s completely okay. I may not be giving enough substance to write with so please let me know if you feel like you need more elaboration. Thank you so much!

Feel free to ignore! Take care! I love ya!💕

Thank you so much for requesting some LaD, I'm so glad you enjoyed the other story ♥ Some friends to enemies for you, coming right up ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Is this where he touched you?"

"Ngh— Xav— What are you—!"

"Or was it here?"

A shuddering breath escaped your lips as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. Your back arched as he pressed you towards the front door of your apartment, the cold wood heating up quickly from your own body heat. With his leg pushing between yours, kicking aside your right ankle, and loosening your position, you were quickly caught in his trap, feeling his fingers brush over your panties, sending tingles up your spine.

"What's gotten into you, Xavier?! Why are you even here?! I locked the door before coming home, didn't I?!"

It wasn't unusual for you two to hang out at the end of the day, Xavier being your closest friend ever since you two became mission partners. But you never crossed the line with him, never felt his hands roam your body so hungrily, reaching for what wasn't his.

The grip around your wrists tightened, pinning them even harder against the door in front of you, and you hissed at the sting of pain it caused. You knew how capable Xavier was firsthand, having watched him fight countless times, but he had never used his strength against you before, causing a flare of panic to rise inside you.

"Where was it? Where did he touch you?" he urged, his voice laced with anger that you had never heard from him before. He leaned forward, lips brushing against your earlobe until you felt the pattern of his teeth against your skin, nipping away. You didn't remember doing anything wrong, so why was he so upset?

Digging his middle finger between your folds, he dragged it upwards until it scratched at your clit, immediately turning into Xavier manipulating the little knob, flicking and abusing it while your back arched, buttcheeks pressing against his crotch. A surprised gasp eluded you as he reminded you of the more pressing matter of his assault rather than playing his little Q&A.

"Wait! Stop! That's not— We're not like that, Xavier!"

"Really? Because you seemed perfectly fine getting chummy with that guy."

"Wait, you mean the neighbor?!" you squeaked, followed by your head falling forward and breathing off the shameful moan that nearly escaped your throat as Xavier's hand changed its rhythm to include more fingers rubbing side to side. Goosebumps erupted on your arms, your body reacting with familiar glee. It was the very same touches you sometimes used on yourself, but with the fabric of your panties in the way, the friction was much better than your own fumbling.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you complained between heavy breaths, barely able to stop your hips from moving against his hand, inflicting more pushes of pleasure.

"I thought you didn't care about who gets you off, seeing how you let just anyone touch you."

"He just returned my sugar jar!" you whined loudly, your body caving into his touch. It had been so long since the last time someone actually touched you like this. So long since you had the chance to let off some steam, too, with new missions trickling in constantly. You hadn't even been home for the last few days—which your neighbor had noted when he returned the jar, having tried it a few times before.

That didn't justify Xavier's actions, though.

"Stop it! Stop it right now!" you finally spoke up, twisting your torso around and tearing one hand from Xavier's hold, instead pressing it into his chest. You, too, had enough training to qualify for the hunter position, and your strength was remarkable in every aspect as well. However... you were no match for his surge of emotions.

"So he did touch you," Xavier concluded, and despite the strain on your wrist, he stepped even closer, his hand slipping further down your sweatpants. You broke out of the clutch, retracting your hand only to reach up and grab him by the hair, the only easily reachable thing you could use against him. But by the time you made your first tug, his fingers had already pushed aside your panties.

You gasped while Xavier hummed appreciatively, even with your full hand in his hair, pulling the strands as hard as your tense position allowed, he seemed no more stressed or urged to end this. Instead, he slipped his fingers through your slick, feeling the welcoming warmth of your pussy as it enticed him with its wetness. Traitor, you thought, biting your lips while tears welled in your eyes. What a shame it was to be betrayed by your own desire while the man you presumed to be one of your best friends treated you like shit.

"Please..." you whimpered. "Let's just stop?"

"So you can go back to him now that I prepared you? Is that what you want?" Xavier asked, danger swinging in the voice he used to spit this at you.

"I'm not going to anyone, but this isn't right, and you know it!"

"Of course you won't. I won't allow it."

And with that, his fingers curled inward, spreading apart your eager lips and allowing him to slip inside. The first one made you gasp, despite barely being all the way in. But by the time the second finger arrived, you couldn't hold back a moan, Xavier's hand molding to the shape of your pussy, covering it possessively while giving his fingers the freedom to sink inside up to his knuckles. He only arched his palm to place his thumb back on your clit, slick and swollen, more jolts of pleasure zapping through you as he connected with it.

"Fuck," you breathed out heavily, feeling your grip on his hair loosen as your body sunk down onto his hand, easily lifted by his strength. But once you noticed, you jolted back up, gulping down a gasp as Xavier began pumping his fingers in and out of you.

"Is that what this is about? You think you own me? And you're jealous of someone giving me back my jar of freaking sugar?!" you managed to bite out between his fingers spreading you apart savagely.

"Correction," Xavier mumbled, and you felt his hot breath next to your ear, his movements becoming much more vigorous as he sandwiched you between his body and the door.

"You've been mine long before anyone else. I always know where you are and who you are with, and that guy is trouble. He's been borrowing your sugar more often than you fall asleep in my arms while we're watching a movie. He's into you, and I won't let him have you. And you'll no longer want him once I'm done with you."

"I never did!" you cried out, absolutely baffled at Xavier's words. You never knew he thought about you like this! He never let on that he was any more than your friend and mission partner! Sure, you two were close, but that's how it was supposed to be! All of his actions now felt like a betrayal of the worst kind.

If betrayal felt this good.

"Fuck, Xavier," you moaned. There was nothing left of the drowsy friend you knew as his fingers hammered into you relentlessly. You heard the squelching of your own juices through the fabric of your pants, paired with the pleasurable jolts wrecking your body.

"That's right, say my name. It's the only one you should be calling."

"Xavier, please—! I—!"

Your hand finally released its death grip on his hair, sinking down to the side of his body. As the edge closed in, you held on to his clothes, and he finally released your still-pinned hand to wrap his free arm around your body. Pulling you securely against him, he hit just the right spot with his ever-moving fingers that made your toes curl, your voice rejoicing as you cramped up, the bittersweet release washing over you.

For a moment, you could forget about the betrayal and heartbreak you felt, the tears in your eyes from pained relief as your orgasm shook through you. It didn't justify what he did, and you hated that it felt so good, but it was like he knew all the little buttons he needed to push inside you to scramble your brain into pieces. Despite it all, you felt more seen than you had in a long time, the pleasure releasing so much tension and stress that had built up over the weeks. It was that good.

But everything that could be considered good in that situation had to end eventually, and it did, slowly, as you regained your senses and realized what Xavier had done to you. What you let him do to you. It wasn't your fault, and yet it felt like it.

If only you had fought harder and made your disapproval clearer, maybe he wouldn't have...

Looking up, you hadn't even realized that Xavier made sure to lay you down safely on the floor, squatting above you with an intense stare raking over your body. You watched breathlessly as he lifted a wet hand to his mouth, tongue lapping at the slick from your pussy clinging to his fingers, without breaking his eye contact.

"I thought we were friends," you choked out, the floodgates of your eyes opening as tears blurred your vision. "How could you do this to me?"

"It was time, was it not?" he asked in this eerily calm voice of his. Never before had his demeanor frightened you so, but in front of you wasn't your "friend" Xavier, but the hunter. The cold-blooded, jealous hunter that you must have ignored for so long since you never saw him outside of work. Or perhaps he had just hidden it, like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Time for what?" you sobbed.

His features softened a little as Xavier reached down to wipe away some of the tears that had escaped from your eyes. But just as quickly, his expression grew emotionless again, unfeeling and factual.

"That you learn your place."

It didn't make sense. Who was this guy? Why was he in your home in the first place, and why did he know how often the neighbor borrowed your sugar jar? Why was all of this relevant, and why did you have to find out this way what kind of person Xavier really was?

Reaching down, Xavier picked you up, effortlessly it seemed, not concerned with your orgasm-pleased, heartbroken, and slack body weight as he heaved you into his arms before moving towards the bedroom.

"Learn what?" you asked, desperate to get at least some answers. Make some sense of this situation. Explain it, however possible.

"Learn that there's no one who loves you like I do," he replied. With a yelp rattling from your throat, you were thrown on top of your bed, your body aching as you propped yourself onto your forearms reflexively, too scared to look away. Reaching underneath his shirt, he pulled it off in one swift motion, exposing his chest before reaching for the waistband of his own pants. Only then did realization dawn on you as to what he was doing, your pulse rising as you quickly began to crawl away until your body hit the headboard of your bed.

"And that no one gets to touch what is mine without consequences."

[totthoughts]

BakuDeku Fic Recs: A/B/O

This one was a fun list just because I am a slut for a good abo fic :). Please, feel free to tell me if you’ve read any of these or if you like them as much as I did.

A Mate’s Worth: 98K words; Katsuki came to the Omega Shelter as Kirishima’s moral support. He wasn’t looking for a mate nor licensed to claim a mate from there. It should have been a quick, boring trip.

But then he ran into Deku—someone he hadn’t seen in close to eight years—in that same Shelter for Abused Omega. Walking away alone had never been an option.

the relationship between katsuki and izuku is precious; however, izuku is very dependent on katsuki. you’ve been warned

taste like green sugar: 16.5k words; Even if he knows Dynamight as his Kacchan, it's not like he's enough for such alpha.

A top hero. A ranked one hero.

Why would Katsuki want him?

He's chubby. He's ugly. He has freckles all over his body, blotches of brown dots littering his body.

He's far from perfect. So he knows people have the rights to belittle him for all they want.

—

What he doesn't know is the capacity of Katsuki's capability to ruin those people's lives.

this fic was intoxicating, and it is a series!!! both fics are really great, this one is my favorite out of the two

be warned, large age gap and izuku is still in school

influenced: 9.4K words; "Just admit that you only started appreciating Midoriya when he became the strong omega that everyone wants to mate."

Katsuki stares at Hanta, and then tilts his head to the side. His lazy smirk on display.

"Yeah, sure," words he decides to reply.

It's not like these people need to know that he got a hidden camera planted inside Izuku's room, middle school years, way passed before Izuku got a quirk.

It's none of their business.

i fear the key to my heart is a possessive katsuki

izuku is a sassy boy and we love

pussy to die for: 4.2k words; "Ayo.." he addresses the crowd again, eyes not straying away from the underwear. "Who the fuck own this?"

The crowd yells. Multiple hands wave, screaming that they own the undergarments.

Katsuki grips his mic with a new found determination.

"You all fuckers find me at the backstage after the con, Imma need to know who owns this so I can knot and knock them up!"

Then, Katsuki puts on a show of sniffing the fabric before he sticks it on his cargo pants' pocket, ignoring the deafening scream of his fans.

Whoever owns this underwear, he needs to find him.

fanfuckingtastic. their relationship isn’t really a relationship, but katsuki is so fucking hot in this and izuku is a fucked out cutie

this is truly for the horndogs

The Alpha’s Eye Candy: 87.8k words; Because Katsuki Bakugo has such a picky alpha and hates most the people he deals with in his daily mafia business, he never excepted any marriage proposals and didn't care to entertain those who wanted him. He didn't get along with anyone and was too busy to worry about a mate, about marriage, about anyone but himself.

So, to get everyone to shut up, he lets his mother find him a pretty, quiet, and obedient omega. Izuku Midoriya married him only to be his eye candy for others, but instead he became so much more than either of them expected.

this is a pretty new fic and i love it! it reads like a story and the characters work so well with one another.

momo and camie are awful, but it fuels the story so well

katsuki and izuku’s relationship is so wonderful from start to finish, and the it develops so naturally

genuinely a great fic

Let me know if you all like any of these because I’ve got more great abo recommendations, but I didn’t want to post too many just in case you all hate this shit.

I’ve also been reading a lot of bakudeku parenting fics and they are simply too cute. I’ll likely post those next, or maybe even some bakudeku with a healthy sprinkle of class 1-A shenanigans.

[killuasskateboard]

Hiiii ! ^_^

Can I request a killua x reader

Reader is always in her room listnening to music or just on her phone for 10+ hours and only gets out to get snacks or water (she daydreames to music) <3

!!FEEL FREE TO IGNORE!!

A/n: thank you sm for requesting! I hope the story is what you expected it'll be ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧. Feel free to request more :) (i need requests so badly)

Warnings !: non!

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Today was a normal peaceful sunny day. The wind flowing peacefully, the sun shining brightly filled with cheer, birds chirping. Overall it was a nice day to head outside.

The silverette laid on his bed looking out at the window 'it seems like a nice day to go out..' he thought to himself as he stood up from his bed. 'wonder what's y/n doing' he asked himself as he walked out of his room towards your room.

He then knocked on your door.... No answer. That slightly irritated him making him wanting to just flung the door open but he knew that wasnt very polite- BUT HELL YEAH JUST FLUNG THE DOOR OPEN! he then just bursts into the room, scanning across the room for you.. there she is! You were on the bed listening to musics, thats probably why you couldn't hear anything (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠).. there was never a day you would go touch some grass..

"Y/N!" Killua called out, but you didnt turn your head.. "what music is she listening to that she cant hear anythinggg?!" the boy muttered under his breath, he then just walked closer towards the girl, as he tapped on your shoulder. "Y/n?" He called oit again, finally the girl answered "oh killua, hey" she spoke.

"FINALLY! YOU TOOK SO GODDAMN LONG TO ANSWER ME WHEN I WAS CALLING YOU FOR A THOUSAND OF TIMES! (⁠ノ⁠ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ⁠)⁠ノ" he complained.

"Sorry i guess...? (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)" The girl answered.

Killua sighed, he was irritated, but he loves you dearly, he always love the fact that your always oblivious, to him, its adorable.

The boy then bend down looking at her phone "whatcha listening?" He asks "just some of my favorite songs" the girl smiled softly, making him smile too, her smile was just.. very contagious (hehe).

"Wanna go outside?" The silverette asks. You looked at him "maybe I'll pass, i want to just stay at my room" you spoke.

The boy knew you were gonna answer this, so the boy slightly groans "Well too bad. Your coming with me" he spoke grabbing your hand softly. "noooo i don't wannaaaa" you whined. "Lets go skateboarding" the silverette spoke.. ofcourse.. he always love skating.

"But I can't skate" the girl spoke.

"Ill teach you" the boy replied.

"You'll just tease me whenever i fall!" The girl complained.

"Ill not" killua replied impatiently as he just dragged you outside. The sun shining brightly to your face.

"Owwww my eyessss! The sun is shining so bright!" The girl complained. "Its normal" killua spoke "you just never go outside, thats why you're not used to the sun and you should touch some grass" killua says, his voice filled with a bit of playfulness.

"Ugh whatever" the girl finally accepted defeat. The silverette gave you the signature cat-coded grin.

Soon the two practiced skateboard together.. thats when you almost fell from the skateboard making killua laugh playfully and he teased you.

"SEE I KNEW IT! YOUR GONNA TEASE ME!" The girl complains making killua laugh more.

The sunny day was filled with laughter and cheer. How wonderful it is :)

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Thank you sm for reading ! Have a nice day!

Im so sorry for grammar mistakes and any writing mistakes , english isnt my first language so please understand (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠).

[captainogilvyart]

There's something to be said for Crowley's eyes.

They are always lizard like in appearance. Azi can blend in seamlessly with people but Crowely can't (or won't) and as a result Azi's bookshop is the one place he can take his glasses off and see the world in colour again.

It's one of the first things he does when he comes into the bookshop, and the doors close, and the outside world is dull and muffled for way of better things (namely Aziraphale).

If we applied that to the concept of masking - he's masking all the time, he's masking the core of who he is whereas Azi is usually most of the time authentically himself within reason.

So this poor tired demon who is having to create a mask - a barrier between himself and everyone he interacts with, comes to appreciate and love the book shop, (and the angel in it). It's a safe haven from the drabness of hell and the prying eyes of mortals, this sunshiny yellow bookshop. Their bookshop.

A book shop that Azi is abandoning because he never needed it in the same way Crowley needed it.

Crowley spent the entireity of this series in his car - he's in a constant state of transience, which is exhausting. Never authentic, never completely himself as he is now until he gets into that shop.

He doesn't have a home, he doesn't have a place to exist and he now no longer has a safe haven.

Of course that is to say it doesn't mean his glasses are all bad (they provide him an emotional distance from others - to observe without being perceived as observing), or that he is ashamed of his eyes at all. I just empathise with the fatigue he must feel from putting a front up.

He is literally obscuring his own way of seeing the world to feel comfortable navigating the outside and Aziraphale has taken the place he can stop that obscuration.

Or perhaps, it's not about the physical space at all, Aziraphale is his bookshop - his house of leaves as it were.

[starlight-tav]

Cw: vent, chronic pain

It's disheartening sometimes how well a day can start and how poorly it can end. I woke up a little late this morning, but my body felt neutral. Few hours before the work day ended, a bad flare up started. I'm grateful I had almost a whole week without much pain. I wish I'd had longer. Hopefully doing nothing this evening will calm my body down.

[hauntedfawnn]

۶♡ৎ Riding Rafe’s Chest Hair ۶♡ৎ

✰ Degradation, daddy kink, spitting, spanking, overstimulation, choking, age gap(Rafe is late 30s reader is in her 20s), possessiveness, hair pulling 18+MDNI! ✰

Based on a convo with my love @cameronsprincess

“Daddy, please, I don’t think I can come again.” You whine and babble as you straddle Rafe’s upper half, your dripping cunt gliding with ease across his toned chest. The patch of hair on his chest brushes against your pulsing clit and sensitive folds.

“Maybe you should’a thought of that before you decided to slut yourself out right in front of me.” Rafe tongues his cheek before smirking up at you, his hands gripping your ass so tight you can feel his nails indenting your skin.

“You fuck other people all the time, you’re such a hypocrite-“ Rafe grabs your jaw roughly and pulls your face down so it’s inches from his, the smirk on his lips turning into a condescending snarl. He shakes your head from side to side as he chuckles darkly.

“You’re walking around, handing out what’s fuckin’ mine and now you have the audacity to give me an attitude? Shut the fuck up and make yourself come again or I’m not fucking you for a week.” Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, you fucking love how mean he is when he’s jealous. “You knew what the fuck you were doing.”

He wasn’t wrong, you knew exactly what you were doing. Rafe had been ignoring you all week and you were feeling neglected, so you decided to do something to get his attention. You and Rafe weren’t exactly together, not publicly at least. He’s ten years older than you, and your boss. You work as a cocktail waitress at the high end bar he owns and he says it's “not fair to the other employees”. Plus he’s a fucking man whore who doesn’t want to settle down.

But the minute you decide to come into the bar on your night off with a guy who's been asking you out for weeks, he loses his mind. So maybe it was a test, to see how he reacted. And you always get what you want from him in the end. You know just how to work him.

“You did this on fuckin’ purpose. You think you’re sneaky with your little games but you’re not, baby doll.” Rafe squeezes your cheeks between his fingers as he swirls spit on his tongue before spitting directly in your face. He uses his free hand to smear it in, smudging your lipstick across your mouth. “Now be a good girl and come again for daddy.”

Rafe smacks your ass roughly with his free hand as he drops his grip on your face to your neck. He pushes you up by your throat so you’re sitting up straight in his chest again.

“Wanna see my chest hair glistening with that fuckin’ pussy juice, baby. Get it nice and wet for me.” Rafe squeezes your throat so hard it makes your vision go blurry, he lets go and reveals in the way you gasp for air. He smacks your tit and tweaks your nipple before splaying his large hand across your belly and pressing down. It makes your puffy clit rub even harder against the coarse hairs on his chest and has your eyes rolling back.

“Uh-uh, fuckin’ look at me.” Rafe digs his nails deeper into your ass, the sting bringing your eyes back to him. “Eyes on me, baby. Tell me who owns you.”

“You, daddy! Just wish you’d show it.” You whine as you look down at him through your lashes and your lips pushed into a pout. Your hands are planted firmly on his muscular chest as you continue to fuck yourself against his skin.

“That’s what this is about, huh? You want everyone to know you’re a little slut for this dick??” Rafe chuckles.

“Yes, need everyone to know who I belong to. Not just you.” Your legs are starting to get tired so your movements slow down but Rafe isn’t having that, he uses his grip on your ass and hand on your stomach to roughly pull you back and forth on his chest. Rafe laughs at you condescendingly, mocking your need for him.

“You’re pathetic, ya know that? Running around chasing me like a lost kitten or some shit.” That shouldn’t be what sends you over the edge. But that combined with the way Rafe is manhalding you and the way his chest hair snags on your clit just right has white hot pleasure wracking through you. Your legs quake around him as your cunt pulses and clenches around nothing, begging to be filled despite how sensitive you are. “Yeah that’s right, slut, fuckin’ come for me. Now turn around and gimme another one, let daddy see that perfect ass.”

You turn around and arch your back as you start to fuck yourself reverse cowgirl on Rafe’s chest. He aggressively paws at and spanks your ass. All while he deals out degradation with a dash of praise and you’re so fucking obsessed with him you almost can’t stand it. He doesn’t let up until you can’t sit up on your own anymore and you collapse in a panting heap on top of him.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet.” Rafe’s hand slides his finger across his slick chest, gathering some of your juices. Then locks his arm around your neck as he sits up, pulling your back to his front. He holds his glistening digits up to your lips, rubbing your wetness on them like its lipgloss. “Taste yourself.”

You take his fingers into your mouth eagerly, swirling your tongue around them and savoring the taste of yourself mixed with a hint or Rafe’s sweat. He pulls them from your mouth, gliding them down your chin to your neck and down your abdomen, making sigh contentedly.

“You’re fuckin’ mine and I never wanna see another man’s hands on you again.” Rafe grits into your ear as he grips onto the hair at the nape of your neck and pulls your head back so you’re looking at him. “You want everyone to know about us so bad? Quit your job at the bar and let me take care of you.”

“Are you serious?” Your eyes light up and an excited smile stretches across your lips.

“Don’t make me say it again, brat.” Rafe pulls your lips to his in a bruising kiss, sucking your tongue into his mouth before pulling off with a pop. “If you keep it up, I’ll have to tie you to my bed with a vibrator on your pussy and leave you there for a few hours. I’m not spanking you as a punishment anymore, you like that shit too much.”

Tagging mooties: @rafescorpsebride @rafesheaven @rafescvntyclubgf @eerielamb @that-sarcastic-writer @moonlightseranade @loserboysandlithium @songbirdmunson ✨

Dividers by @anitalenia

My first Rafe fic on my new account !! One of many, I’m cooking up a long fic rn. Stay tuned.🩵

[sttoru]

hi!! could you write smut of sukuna w/ corruption kink x clingy reader? i need to see more of them 🤭🤭

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. smut, pwp. corruption kink. reader is described as clingy cute / innocent. voyeurism?// exhibitionism. double pénetràtion. cowgirl. cream pies. nicknames ‘slut, brat, woman’. combined 2 requests :3

it’s honestly your own fault. you’ve been sticking around sukuna the entire day, clinging onto him like he won’t let you experience the consequences of your own actions.

“eyes on me, brat,” sukuna scoffs, thumb and index roughly turning your chin back. he needs to see your face as he embarrasses you in front of the guests and other concubines standing around the throne.

you’re supposed to feel regret, yet you’re drowning in a state of pure lust. it’s the thrill that keeps your hips going, the ache in them temporarily ignored as you search for that grande moment of euphoria.

you can’t care less about the humans at the bottom of the stairs. they’re grovelling in fear of the king of curses, knowing their heads can fly off if they dare to look up at you two.

it’s a sign of disrespect—a sign that the king of curses can’t care less about what those lowlifes have come to see him for. sukuna’s doing so on purpose, using your clinginess to his advantage.

“hah, what a total slut of a concubine,” sukuna scoffs, leaning his head against one of his hands, elbow propped onto the armrest. this is a punishment for you, though it certainly does not feel like that. even if all attendants in the room can hear you fucking yourself silly on sukuna’s dicks.

you and those sloppy sounds of your two bodies connecting.

you try to hold back your moans, but a rough yank to your hair instantly opens your mouth again. your eyes roll back and your voice spews out. “mhh, my lord—‘s too much,” you whimper, however your body doesn’t stop bouncing on his cocks. sukuna responds by squeezing your middle while he watches his lengths being swallowed by your cunt and ass.

it’s funny how you’ve been reduced to a mess—a toy he can command to do whatever he pleases. your clinginess secretly pleases him, because it reassures him that you’ll do what’s asked of you. sukuna grins lazily, letting you work for it, “too much? tsk. weren’t you the one begging f’ my attention, brat?”

he does have a point. you nod mindlessly whilst his cocks drill into you—leaving no hole empty. your eyes dart to both sides of the throne, where two concubines are situated. you can see them tremble in embarrassment and envy.

sukuna’s showing you off to everyone and they don’t like it; none of the concubines do. they hate the fact that he chose you to show off to everyone else in the room. like you’re the only trophy he’s proud of.

the guests don’t dare to speak either. nor does uraume, who’s politely looking the other way as their master ravages his favorite little concubine. they’re used to his acts of exercising his power.

sukuna keeps a firm grip on your hair, threatening to pull your head back each time you dare look around you. “you have no shame. absolutely zero,” the king of curses says condescendingly. as if the humiliation of being watched isn’t enough, sukuna’s words add to the embarrassment you’re feeling, “cock hungry slut can’t go a minute without being filled, hm?”

your whimpers get louder and your pace grows faster. his fat tips hit your deepest parts over and over again, the stretch threatening to split you in half. you’re too turned on to care. the way sukuna’s staring at you with that menacing glare—his sharp nails digging into your skin so painfully . . . you need it all.

“this ‘s why you’ve been following me ‘round all day long,” sukuna grunts—one hand coming up to free your breasts from the confines of your robes, “y’ just needed to be dicked down.” the flicks against your stiff nipples make you tighten up around his cocks again and again.

you’re nearly screaming because of everything your senses are picking up on. your half lidded eyes catch a glimpse of sukuna’s cocky facial expression and you’re almost pushed over the edge. he’s so smug—knowing he has you in the palm of his hand.

his eyes are luring you in. there’s a hint of something so primal in there - a beast impatiently waiting to be unleashed - one that sukuna is trying his best to suppress.

“aren’t you just cute. . .” sukuna mocks with a dangerous chuckle. his thumb rubs your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth for you to suckle on.

“kehehe, isn’t that what those servants call you? cute.. innocent.. adorable,” he continues, faintly groaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb. sukuna cocks his head to the right and your eyes follow. that’s where you spot your maids and lady-in-waiting in a corner.

you feel tears well up in your eyes from both pleasure and humiliation. everyone is seeing and hearing you being claimed by the monster of a curse you’re riding. your maids have always adored your innocence—how you don’t seem to be tainted by sukuna’s advances no matter what. it’s a first to them.

it has been a rumor around the estate for so long; you being the only concubine who can withstand sukuna’s wicked influence. you always seem to stay yourself, your cheery and sweet personality never changing. you’ve been known as the innocent one among all other concubines.

yet here those same maids are, watching your brain being corrupted by sin. you’re so sinfully enjoying how sukuna’s cocks are penetrating you. “n-no, am—fnghh—don’t wanna,” you stammer, speaking to no one in particular. your inner desires clash with your rational mind and your body seems to continue its erotic act.

“don’t you fight it, woman,” sukuna brings your attention back by thrusting his cocks all the way up inside you, balls slapping harshly against your ass. he’s proud with his accomplishments. you’re slowly but surely being tainted by him and it’s so pleasing.

soon enough, that damned innocence of yours is going to disappear. he’s going to turn you into a total slut driven by lust, for him and only him. he’s going to ruin you and your body until all you can think of is the pleasure he can give you.

your nails dig into sukuna’s shoulders. you moan loudly, losing the battle, as expected. the king of curses just knows how to make you give in. he takes great pleasure in seeing you lose yourself, with everyone watching how he strips you from that innocence.

“stupid, nasty fuckin’ thing,” sukuna grunts as the lower pair of his arms hold you by your hips. he halts your movements before starting his own. “y’re mine, ya hear?” he pounds up into you—making you mewl. a chant of his name leaves your lips. you simply cannot stop yourself.

“yes, ‘m yours, my lord!” you moan for everyone to hear. the pink-haired man grins in satisfaction and quickly plunges his cocks in and out of your holes, needing to release himself so he could fully claim you as his in front of the rest.

his dirty cumslut, his tainted and brainless doll.

sukuna wraps all four arms around you, leaving no room for escape. he presses you against him until you’re struggling to breathe. your head is pushed against his shoulder and your insides are being turned into mush. the gooey fluids drip down onto the throne and down the floor.

“fuck. not a drop goes to waste or i’m fuckin’ ya again,” sukuna warns before shooting loads of cum into your womb and up your ass. both your holes are stuffed full of white, sticky semen mixed with your own release. you desperately clench around nothing once sukuna pulls you off his dicks.

you try to reach your hands out towards him as he manoeuvres your body away once he’s finished. the king of curses pins your wrists at your back so he can turn you around on his thighs, forcefully spreading your legs like a trophy he’s showing off on his throne.

one arm wraps around your waist and his chin rests on your right shoulder. sukuna keeps you on his lap and continues to act like he didn’t just completely wreck your insides.

while you’re left in the intense moment, he seems to have moved on already.

“speak,” sukuna orders the humans who’ve witnessed the whole ordeal. their foreheads are stuck on the floor—none of them daring to look up at the sight, like everyone else.

you’re panting and your head is spinning. you’re totally spent. sukuna holds your limp body up on his lap as one hand is busy scooping the excess cum back into your pussy, not wasting a drop like said before.

one of the villagers finally speaks up, stating the reason for their visit to the estate. their voice is muffled due to a loud buzzing in your ear. you’re tired and can’t focus on what’s said either. you just want to sleep. . . in sukuna’s warm embrace, filled and half-naked, for the entire room to see as they continue discussing business as if you’re not even there.

[nottsangel]

ONE. cockwarming — dealer!theo

warnings — smut 18+. cockwarming. exhibitionism. guns and slight gunplay.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

“you little brat.” theo growls under his breath, his tone husky and taunting, sharp eyes locking onto yours. he takes his gun from behind his waistband, placing it next to him before his hands hastily untie the string of his grey sweatpants, freeing his already half-hard cock from his pants. without hesitation, he aggressively pulls you onto his lap, making you hover over his crotch.

“can’t even keep your hands off me for one minute, can you?” he continues, his darkened eyes staring so intensely into yours as a smug smirk curls on his lips. you feel your cheeks heat up at his teasing words, only worsening the ache between your legs as you struggle to ignore the uncomfortable dampness in your underwear.

you tried to keep your hands off him all day long— you really did. but it became difficult when he was busy all day long and unable to give you any attention at all, and you suffered from a terrible touch deprivation. he insists it’s because he has to be ‘professional’, as if one little kiss would hurt that much.

so after hours of feeling your hands roam all over his tensed body and listening to your whines about not getting enough attention, he decides to give you exactly what you want—or need—as his warm hands wander down your body, teasing fingers tracing your wetness.

“mmm, you’re mean today.” you murmur softly, your hands steadying themselves on his broad shoulders as his fingers swiftly pull your lace panties to the side, his piercing eyes not leaving yours once. with his other hand firmly on your hip, he positions you right over his precum-leaking erection and slowly pushes you down, making you hiss at the full sensation until you’re completely seated on his cock.

“finally.” you whisper breathlessly, your walls wrapping around him so tightly as the tip brushes against the deepest parts within you. but right as you want to move, theo tightly grips your hips, firmly holding you down. his smug smile widens when he notices both a puzzled and frustrated expression appearing on your adorable face.

“ohhh, you thought i was gonna fuck you? you thought you deserved that? that’s cute.” theo taunts, his tone dripping with mock surprise as his fingers slowly inch towards the gun, bringing it closer to your stiffened body.

“baby, please, just let me move!” you cry out, shivering as the cold metal of the gun slowly glides over your delicate skin, the barrel pointed right at you. a wave of fear courses through you, mingling with arousal, your wetness trickling down the insides of your thighs— he knows damn well this turns you on.

“nah… you’re gonna sit still and be a good girl for me now, a’ight? this is all you’re getting until i’m done with work.”

right when you part your glossed lips to speak, a loud knock echoes through his living room, causing you to gasp loudly. despite your desperate efforts to wiggle free from his firm grip, it’s no use, as he already yells a ‘come in’ to the client waiting in front of his door.

you frantically slap his shoulder in panic as he places the gun next to him again and smooths down your skirt, making sure it covers you both, leaving it impossible for anyone to see his cock buried balls-deep inside of you.

“you better sit still, piccola. don’t want him finding out what a filthy slut you are, huh? sitting on my cock while i’m working?”

“theodore nott, i swear to fucking go—”

“hey man, what’s good? you got any?” your head snaps to the side, your heart pounding out of your chest as you nibble on your bottom lip in unease. a regular client of theo casually walks in, hands in his pockets as approaches you both, thankfully not suspecting a thing— or so you thought.

“shit, what’s wrong with her?” he chuckles, his eyes scanning you up and down when he notices you restlessly moving around on theo’s lap, an undeniable flushed and embarrassed look on your face. your eyes widen when his gaze then lingers on your tits for a moment, theo’s eyes narrowing instantly as the grip on your hips tightens, his fingers pressing harshly into your skin.

“nothin’ you gotta worry about, mate.” he grumbles, before both his tone and eyes quickly turn icy. his hand casually reaches for the gun lying next to him on the couch, his grip on it firm and threatening as his other hand still possessively holds your hips. the poor man immediately takes a step back, swallowing hard when his eyes flick to the weapon, his hands weakly lifting in surrender.

“but uhm… look at my girl like that again i promise you’re not leaving this house in one piece, capito? coglione del cazzo.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[zvdvdlvr]

Insatiable + Viktor

Synopsis. You bring Viktor home from a long day in the lab. He wakes up and finds himself needing you.

A/n. No specified gender/genitalia of reader.

Viktor ignored the small voice in his head that tried to tell him to go home. “Just a few more minutes,” he murmured aloud. His fingers tinkered with the project in front of him.

“What’d you say?”

Viktor whipped around to see your lanky build leaning against a desk. He relaxed as you tilted your head with your familiar smile. “I- I missed you, my darling,” he whispered, rising to his feet. He hobbled into your arms and felt his weight sag against you. “I didn’t realize how tired I am.”

You shushed him and carded your finger through his hair. “I’ve been telling you, V. You need to care for yourself,” you coo into his ear. He relaxes completely, leaving you steady on your feet with his freakishly tall body in your arms. “But I admit, I love taking care of you.”

Viktor exhaled shakily. “Y/n?”

You hum.

He nuzzles his face into your neck and breathes in your scent. “Will you take me home?”

“Of course, my love.”

It’s the middle of the night when Viktor wakes, arms latched onto your strong form. Visions of the dream previously flickering behind his eyelids make him pant heavily as he looks down to see his pelvis grinding down  between your legs.

“Fuck,” he croaks, wrapping his arms around your neck as he degrades himself for taking advantage of you while you slept. “I’m sorry, my lover.”

Viktor’s hips move slightly fast as your hands unconsciously grip Viltor’s waist. “Y/n, please.”

You blink awake. Viktor’s pathetic humping had been the actions to wake you instead of his quiet pleads. “You’re so needy,” you inform him wryly. Your head fell back to the pillow under you. “I can’t even sleep without-“

“Y/n, I need you,” Viktor pleads, leaving kisses from your exposed neck all the way up to your eyelids. “Please give me what I need.”

Viktor’s hips stutter. His breath catches in his throat as your hands trace down his back to squeeze his ass. “You have me right here, Vik. Take what you need,” you coo in his ear.

At your breathy words, Viktor whines as he pistons his hips down. “Ple-Please y/n,” he whimpers. “Talk to me, tell me- tell me I’m yours.” 

You look at the famous, world-renowned scientist in front of you and wonder how you were blessed with the ability to turn him into the pitiful, whining, horny man in front of you. “You need my voice, is that it? I love how much you need me Viktor… I love you, Viktor.” He smothers a particularly loud groan by shoving his face into your shoulder. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? You don’t need to tell me, V. I know what my good boy likes.”

Just to tease him, you buck your hips up to grind onto his core. “Y/n!” He cries out, chasing your heat. “Fuck,” he whines.

“So reactive,” you murmur absently. “You’re doing so well, Viktor, so good for me.”

“Please, y/n, I need you. I ca-I can’t cum without you.” Tears leak from his eyes as his movements turn jerky and desperate. “Help me, please.”

You click your tongue. “Oh, Vik. This is how I feel when you’re off in your lab every day and every night. I’m showing you mercy by just being here, my love,” you tell him. “If you make yourself cum right now, I promise I’ll fuck you so good you won’t know any other words than thank you,” you coo. He sinks his teeth into your flesh as he gets closer to his orgasm.

“I’m going- I’m- y/n,” Viktor rambles as his hips unceasingly grind on you. “Y/n!”

His arms tighten around you as he spills his cum into his pants. Viktor is temporarily free from the pain in his leg as his legs twitch. “I love you,” Viktor slurs in your ear, feeling you roll on top of him. “I need more…”

You pull away from him to see how pretty he looks underneath you. The moon glinted in his eyes, and his list was evident in his gaze. As your nimble fingers unbuttoned his pants, you let him pull you back down to his lips in a lazy kiss. “Insatiable,” you chide when you pull away for air.

Viktor pulls your shirt off of your body. “I just crave you. In every way, all the time, unceasingly.”

You chuckle and grasp his chin. “I love you too, Viktor.”

[moonstruckme]

hi, my love! i hope you’re doing okay!

i’d be really interested to see the protectiveness of the marauders and how it plays out in a poly!marauders dynamic. say something happens to r (can be as minor or as severe as you prefer). how would each marauder react and how would their dynamics bounce off each other? would it make the situation better or worse?

I find it funny picturing r attempting to wrangle all three of her boys from throwing hands (especially if it was a mistake or a miscommunication between r and the “offender”) and they’re bouncing off each other and riling themselves up more and she’s just like, ffs I’m so sorry and tries her best to manhandle her three boyfriends away for a stern talking to. Like, thank you guys for protecting me and all that but a) t’was a mistake / miscommunication, and b) i can sort my own shit and will ask if i need back up (Sirius in the back like no need to ask, i’m ready to go bby). Everyone’s like wtf Remus?! because he’s usually the chill one and it’s just a cluserfuck of misplaced angst and fluffy humour.

this might overlap with some other requests you’ve written, so feel free to ignore or tweak as you see fit! no idea if this makes any sense but hope it’s fun to write if you decide to!

Hi lovely! I've done a couple fics with protective marauders before, so I wanted to try something a little different based on your prompt. I had a different vision in my head than how it turned out, but I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, sexual assault, violence

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You’ve been known to be a…somewhat short-fused drunk. It’s not that you’ll get angry with anyone for anything, only that the sort of behavior that you might normally try to ignore, you…don’t. This is usually the behavior of men. 

It’s one of those nights where the club is made up of about forty percent young girls and sixty percent older, eagle-eyed men. You’re glad for your boyfriends, who ward off the other men like a force field around you. You feel lucky to have it and disgusted to need it. 

James’ laughter is loud and bright as you spin him around after he does you. You echo it, pleased at having inspired such a sound. With his large, sturdy build, it’s rare for James to get very drunk, but he’s about where you are now. Which is to say, you’ve been sloppily dancing and giggling with each other for the last hour. 

Remus rolls his eyes fondly when James nearly spins himself out of balance, steadying him with a hand on his back. 

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Sirius shouts. 

James laughs again, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Classy, babe.” 

“Bugger off.” Sirius shoves him playfully into Remus’ chest. 

You dance with them both for a minute longer before leaning in to shout, “Okay if I go get more drinks?” 

Remus eyes you both for a second, but nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.” 

“No, stay.” You set a hand on his chest. “Don’t let Jamie dance alone. I’ll be right back, yeah?” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you head for the bar. It’s crowded, but you’re not about to worm between some middle-aged men to get to the front. You stand up on your toes and wait to catch the bartender’s eye. 

“What’s your name?” Suddenly there’s a warm body pressed up behind yours, hands on your hips. 

Your blood, already warmed by alcohol, turns hot in an instant. You step forward, too quick for the man behind you to follow. Turn to look him in the eyes. 

“Don’t touch me,” you say firmly. 

“Okay.” The man raises his eyebrows at you. He looks nearly old enough to be your father—certainly old enough to be someone’s father—with waxy skin and thinning hair combed over the front of his head. He’s in a suit like he came here from work. “Sorry, relax. I just think you’re beautiful.” 

“I’m here with someone.” Someones, you could say, but you’ve learned it’s easier in some situations to make it sound like you only have one partner, for brevity’s sake. And there’s nothing you desire more than for this interaction to be brief. 

He gives a little laugh. “Don’t take things so seriously, I’m only complimenting you. Do you like to dance?” 

You give him a hard look. “Only with my boyfriend.” 

“You look like you dance.” His eyes skim down your frame, raptorial. “I can tell. You have the body for it.” 

No sooner does his large, meaty hand connect with your ass than you’re grabbing it by the wrist, your free hand balling and aiming for his face. 

His surprised grunt comes in sync with a “Woah!” from behind you. 

You turn to find Remus and James, looking like they’ve just broken through the crowd. James is staring at you with wide eyes. One of the men near you at the bar sets a hand on your shoulder, pulling you away from the creep and forcing you to drop his wrist, but Remus is there in an instant. 

“Oi.” He grabs you, removing the man’s hand and caging you in his arms. “She’s fine.” 

“She hit him!” the man accuses. The guy from before is leaning forward with a hand pressed over his face. 

James is incredulous. “Did you see what he did to her?” 

The other man looks between you like he’s realized he’s missing something, and Remus takes a couple of steps back from the crowd with you in his arms. Meanwhile, your attacker seems to be recovering from his shock. He lowers his hand to reveal a discolored mark on his jaw, gaping at you. 

“You fucking cunt!” 

James gives him a hard shove, and more shouting starts up around the bar, various other patrons either cheering the fight on or trying to break it up. Remus grabs James by his shirt, tugging him along as he herds you towards the exit. “Alright, we’re going, we’re going.” 

Your journey out of the building is hurried and difficult to follow in your addled state, but everything seems to catch up to you when the dark club gives way to glaring fluorescent streetlights. You bend over under a wave of nausea. 

“Hey.” James sounds more sober than he had a few minutes ago. He stoops to look at you, your eyes wet. “You okay?” 

Remus says something to him quietly, passing James the car keys. He unwinds his arm from around you and kisses your head. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says gently. “Go wait in the car, okay?” 

“Okay…” Your voice is hardly a whimper. “Where are you going?” 

But Remus is already gone, waving down the bouncer outside of the club. 

You turn to James. “Where is he going?” 

Tears blink out of your eyes as you ask. The corners of James’ mouth turn down sympathetically. 

“Oh, my girl.” He wraps a big arm around your shoulders, kissing your head as he leads you towards the car. “What’s wrong? Does your hand hurt?” 

You shake your head, though it does a little. Your knuckles and the tops of your fingers feel odd and sore, and there’s a throbbing that goes all the way down to your wrist. That’s not what’s bothering you, though. You’re not sure if you can pick what’s bothering you. The predatory stares you’ve endured all night; the sickening realization of the man’s body pressed up against yours; his easy, blithe laughter; your own white-hot anger, there and gone before you could take account of yourself—it’s all too much. 

“I can’t believe I hit him,” you admit tearfully. 

James lets out a little laugh. “I saw, baby.” He unlocks the car, opening the back door. 

“I didn’t mean to.” 

“I—oh, okay.” James doesn’t stop you when you don’t get in, instead sitting on the floor of the car with your feet on the gravel parking lot. He sits beside you. “It’s okay if you did. He deserved it.” 

You put your head in your hands. “I don’t hit people.” 

He makes a soft sound. A big hand lands between your shoulder blades, rubbing softly. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. It’s…I get that you wouldn’t usually, but I think this counts as a special circumstance. Rem, he saw what was happening, but we couldn’t get to you fast enough. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, you know?” 

You don’t reply, and he lets you sit in silence for a while, your weeping gradually stopping. When Remus comes back, it’s with Sirius in tow. 

“What the fuck happened?” Sirius asks tipsily. “I was looking for you!” 

“Did Remus not tell you?” James sounds excited to be the one to share the news. 

“Alright, dove?” Remus asks at a more reasonable volume, crouching in front of you. “Does your hand hurt? Can I see?” 

“No, he’s being bloody tight-lipped.” Sirius ruffles Remus’ hair. “Just said you had to go. Oi, you alright, lovely?” 

“She punched a guy in the face,” James says proudly. 

“She what?” Sirius’ mouth pops open. You shrink some under his gaze. “Baby, you what?” 

“I didn’t mean to!” you insist, though it’s hard to stay miserable when two of your boyfriends look so obviously delighted. 

Sirius shakes his head, awestruck. “What did I miss?” 

James fills him in quickly while Remus prods at your hand, eventually commending you on a rather clean hit after he’s certain you didn’t break anything. Sirius can hardly keep his mouth shut while James talks, nor can James keep from using a series of vulgar names for the man who’d touched you, though he checks on you a couple of times to be sure his storytelling isn’t upsetting you. When he’s done, Sirius’ stare has darkened, his arms crossing as he leans against the side of the car. 

“Do we think he could perhaps use a matching bruise on the other side?” he muses, gaze flicking to the entrance of the club. “Maybe one of you could point him out to me.” 

“You’ll get to see him soon,” says Remus. You look at him questioningly, but he only gives you a small smile. Cryptic.

“Really, she’s already handled it rather well herself.” James slides his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your head. “You should have seen it, I had no idea she could punch like that.” 

“Me neither,” you sigh. 

Just then, the door to the club bangs open. Two bouncers come out in their uniform black tees, hauling between them another man. 

“Alright, alright, leave off!” The creep from earlier struggles in their grasp. All three of your boyfriends tense. As he comes through the doorway, his discolored jaw catches the light. 

Sirius whistles. “Shit. That is bloody gorgeous.” 

You feel the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips, but try to remain contrite. You catch Remus’ eye. 

“It was pretty impressive,” he says, also smiling. 

You chew your lip. “You don’t think it was wrong?” 

“What’s wrong about it?” Sirius asks. “He touched you, you touched him. I’d have done the same if I were there.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “We know, love.” 

“I’m just saying, I could make it symmetrical…” 

“No,” Remus says sternly. He helps you up, ushering you into the backseat. “It’s time to go home.” 

James buckles in beside you while Remus gets into the driver’s seat. Sirius lingers outside the car. 

“He’s not gotten far yet, are we sure…” 

“Aw, baby, does your hand hurt?” James asks loudly. 

Sirius turns, crawling in to get a look. “Shit, did you bruise something? How’d you make a fist?” 

James reaches across him to shut the door, and Remus drives away.

[pucksandpower]

Jilted

Charles Leclerc x runaway bride!Reader

Summary: you find out that your groom is a cheating bastard on your wedding day … Charles helps you pick up the pieces

The sun-drenched bridal suite buzzes with anticipation as you stand before the full-length mirror, your reflection a vision in white lace and satin. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through your veins. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but something feels ... off.

“You look absolutely stunning,” your best friend, Mia, gushes as she adjusts your veil. “James won’t know what hit him.”

You force a smile, trying to shake the nagging feeling in your gut. “Thanks, Mia. I just ... I can’t believe this is really happening.”

Mia squeezes your hand reassuringly. “Cold feet are totally normal. Trust me, once you see James waiting for you at the altar, all those doubts will melt away.”

A soft knock at the door interrupts your thoughts. Your mother peeks her head in, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

As she enters the room, you notice her clutching her phone, her knuckles white. “Mom? Is everything okay?”

She hesitates, exchanging a worried glance with Mia. “I ... I’m not sure how to say this, honey.”

Your stomach drops. “Mom, what is it? Just tell me.”

She takes a deep breath. “I just got off the phone with James’ mother. She... she overheard him talking to someone. A woman.”

The room spins as you struggle to process her words. “What are you saying?”

“It seems ... it seems James has been seeing someone else. For quite some time, apparently.”

The words hit you like a physical blow. You stumble back, gripping the edge of the vanity for support. “No,” you whisper. “That can’t be true. We’re getting married in an hour!”

Mia rushes to your side, her arm around your waist. “Y/N, breathe. We’ll figure this out.”

But you can’t breathe. The room feels too small, the air too thick. “I need ... I need to talk to him.”

Before anyone can stop you, you’re bolting from the room, your dress billowing behind you as you race down the hallway. You burst into the groom’s quarters, startling the group of groomsmen inside.

“Where is he?” You demand, your voice trembling.

James’ best man, Tom, steps forward, his face pale. “Y/N, what are you doing here? It’s bad luck-”

“Where. Is. He?” You repeat, each word dripping with venom.

The bathroom door opens, and there he stands — the man you thought you’d spend forever with. James’ eyes widen as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

You laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “What’s wrong? How about you tell me, James? Who is she?”

His face crumples, and in that moment, you know it’s true. “Y/N, I can explain-”

“Explain?” You spit. “Explain how you’ve been cheating on me our entire engagement? How you were going to stand up there and lie to my face, in front of everyone we love?”

James reaches for you, but you recoil. “Please, just let me-”

“Don’t touch me!” You scream, tears streaming down your face. “How could you do this to me?”

The room falls silent, save for your ragged breathing. James’ groomsmen shift uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. You turn to leave, but James grabs your arm.

“Y/N, wait. I love you. We can work this out,” he pleads.

You wrench your arm free, fixing him with a glare that could freeze hell itself. “Love me? You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

With that, you’re running again, pushing past concerned guests and ignoring the calls of your name. You burst out of the hotel into the blinding sunlight, your legs carrying you down the street without a destination in mind.

You don’t know how long you run, your white dress now stained with dirt and tears. Eventually, you find yourself in a part of town you don’t recognize, your feet aching and your lungs burning. A neon sign catches your eye — The Dive Hole.

Without thinking, you push open the door to the dingy bar. The few patrons inside turn to stare as you stumble in, a bride in full wedding attire, mascara streaking down your cheeks.

The bartender, a gruff-looking man in his fifties, raises an eyebrow. “Rough day, sweetheart?”

You laugh, the sound bordering on hysterical. “You could say that.”

As you collapse onto a barstool, the weight of the day finally crashes down on you. You bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

The bartender slides a glass of amber liquid in front of you. “On the house,” he says gruffly. “Looks like you could use it.”

You lift your head, offering him a watery smile. “Got anything stronger?”

***

The world spins as you stumble out of The Dive Hole, your wedding dress now stained with whiskey and regret. The streetlights blur into a hazy glow as you teeter on your heels, struggling to maintain your balance.

“Hey, watch it!” A passerby shouts as you nearly collide with him.

“Sorry,” you slur, waving a hand dismissively. “Just trying to ... to find my happily ever after. Have you seen it? I think I lost it somewhere.”

The man hurries away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk. You laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the empty street. “That’s right, run away! Everyone else does!”

As you take another unsteady step, your heel catches in a crack in the pavement. You lurch forward, bracing for impact with the cold, hard ground. But instead of concrete, you find yourself enveloped in warmth.

“Whoa there!” A gentle voice exclaims. “Are you alright?”

You blink, trying to focus on the face of your savior. Kind green eyes peer down at you, filled with concern. The man helps you regain your footing, his hands steady on your arms.

“I’m fine,” you insist, even as the world continues to tilt around you. “Just ... just celebrating. It’s my wedding day, you know.”

The man’s brow furrows as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Celebrating alone? In the middle of the street?”

You nod vigorously, immediately regretting the action as nausea washes over you. “Yep! Best day ever. Who needs a groom anyway, right?”

“I’m Charles,” he introduces himself, his accent warm and inviting. “And I think maybe you should sit down for a moment. There’s a bench just over there.”

He gently guides you to the nearby bench, helping you settle onto it. You slump against the backrest, your head lolling to the side.

“So, Charles,” you drawl, poking him in the chest. “What brings you out on this fine evening? Looking for love in all the wrong places?”

Charles chuckles softly. “Actually, I was just heading home after a late dinner with friends. And then I found a beautiful bride who seems to be having a rough night.”

You snort, gesturing to your ruined dress. “Beautiful? I look like I’ve been through a war. A war of the heart.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles offers, his voice gentle and free of judgment.

For a moment, you consider spilling everything. But the wound is too fresh, the betrayal too raw. Instead, you shake your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes once more.

“No talking,” you mumble. “Just ... can you sit with me for a bit?”

Charles nods, settling onto the bench beside you. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

You sit in silence for a while, the cool night air slowly clearing your head. Charles remains a steady presence at your side, occasionally glancing at you with concern.

Finally, you break the silence. “I should probably go home. Except ... I don’t really know where home is anymore.”

Charles frowns. “You don’t have anywhere to go?”

You shake your head, a humorless laugh escaping your lips. “Nope. Funny how your whole life can fall apart in a single day, huh?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, seeming to wrestle with a decision. Finally, he speaks. “Look, I know we’ve just met, but ... I have a spare room. You’re welcome to stay there for the night, just to sleep it off and figure things out in the morning.”

You blink at him, surprised by the offer. “You’d do that for a stranger?”

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Well, we’re not exactly strangers now, are we? Besides, I couldn’t live with myself if I left you out here alone.”

You consider his offer. Every logical part of your brain is screaming that this is a bad idea, but something in Charles’ eyes tells you he can be trusted. Plus, you’re not exactly swimming in options at the moment.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “Thank you, Charles.”

He helps you to your feet, steadying you as you sway slightly. “My car’s just around the corner. Think you can make it?”

You nod, determined. “Lead the way, knight in shining armor.”

The ride to Charles’ apartment is mercifully short. You spend most of it with your head against the cool glass of the window, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Charles fills the silence with gentle small talk, his voice soothing in the darkness.

When you arrive, Charles helps you out of the car and into the elevator. As you ascend, the reality of your situation starts to sink in.

“Oh God,” you groan, leaning against the elevator wall. “What am I doing? I don’t even know you. For all I know, you could be a serial killer or something.”

Charles chuckles. “I promise I’m not a serial killer. Just a guy who couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.”

The elevator doors open, and Charles leads you down the hallway to his apartment. As he fumbles with his keys, you sway on your feet, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you.

“Here we are,” Charles announces, pushing open the door. “Home sweet home.”

You step inside, taking in the stylish but comfortable living room. “Nice place. Very ... un-serial-killer-like.”

Charles laughs. “Thanks, I think. The spare room is just down the hall, but maybe we should get you some water first.”

He guides you to the kitchen, filling a glass with cool water. You accept it gratefully, gulping it down.

“Easy there,” Charles warns. “Small sips or you’ll make yourself sick.”

You nod, slowing down. As you finish the water, a wave of emotion washes over you. The events of the day come crashing back, and before you know it, you’re sobbing.

“Hey, hey,” Charles says softly, moving closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, burying your face in his shirt. Charles stiffens for a moment, surprised, before wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m s-sorry,” you hiccup between sobs. “I’m getting your shirt all wet and snotty.”

You feel Charles’ chest rumble with a soft laugh. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what washing machines are for.”

He holds you as you cry, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You cling to him, this kind stranger who’s shown you more compassion in one night than your fiancé did in years.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles asks gently.

You shake your head, still pressed against his chest. “Not yet. Maybe... maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he says simply. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You stay like that for a while, your sobs gradually subsiding into quiet sniffles. Charles continues to hold you, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.

As your breathing evens out, exhaustion begins to overtake you. Your eyelids grow heavy, and you find yourself struggling to stay upright.

Charles seems to sense your fatigue. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He leads you down the hallway to the spare room, supporting most of your weight as you stumble along. The room is simple but cozy, with a plush-looking bed that seems to call your name.

“There should be some spare pajamas in the dresser,” Charles says. “They might be a bit big, but they’ll be more comfortable than that dress.”

You nod sleepily, already fumbling with the zipper of your gown. Charles quickly turns away, a blush creeping up his neck.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you to it,” he stammers. “Bathroom’s right across the hall if you need it. And I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, your eyes already half-closed. “Thank you, Charles. For everything.”

He smiles softly. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

As the door closes behind him, you manage to slip out of your wedding dress and into a pair of soft sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. The bed feels like heaven as you sink into it, your body finally relaxing after the emotional roller coaster of the day.

But as you lie there in the dark, the silence allows your thoughts to creep back in. Memories of James, of the life you thought you’d have, of the future that’s now shattered. Tears begin to fall once more, soaking into the pillow.

Before you know it, you’re padding out to the living room, sniffling quietly. Charles looks up from his spot on the couch, concern etched on his face.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Every time I close my eyes, I see ... I just ... I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Without a word, Charles opens his arms. You practically collapse onto the couch next to him, curling into his side. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

You nod against his chest, fresh tears soaking into his shirt. Charles doesn’t seem to mind, just holds you tighter and begins to hum softly, a soothing melody that washes over you.

As you lie there, surrounded by the warmth and kindness of this virtual stranger, you feel something you haven’t felt all day: safe. The steady rhythm of Charles’ heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of calm.

Your eyelids grow heavy once more, and this time, you don’t fight it. As you drift off to sleep, still wrapped in Charles’ arms and using his shirt as a makeshift tissue, your last coherent thought is a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better.

***

The first rays of sunlight filter through the unfamiliar curtains, gently rousing you from your slumber. For a blissful moment, you’re disoriented, unaware of where you are or why your head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. Then, like a tidal wave, the memories of yesterday crash over you, bringing with them a fresh wave of pain and embarrassment.

You groan, burying your face in the pillow. How did you end up here? Slowly, fragments of the night before come back to you — a kind stranger, an offer of shelter, crying yourself to sleep on the stranger’s couch.

Charles.

His name was Charles.

The smell of coffee and something deliciously savory wafts through the air, making your stomach growl despite the lingering nausea. Reluctantly, you drag yourself out of bed, wincing at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is a tangled mess, mascara smudged under your eyes, and you’re wearing clothes that are decidedly not yours.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself to face your host. You pad quietly down the hallway, following the sounds of movement in the kitchen. As you round the corner, you see Charles standing at the stove, his back to you as he hums softly to himself.

You clear your throat softly. “Um, good morning.”

Charles turns, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Good morning! How are you feeling?”

You grimace, running a hand through your tangled hair. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck. Emotionally and physically.”

He chuckles sympathetically. “I bet. Here, sit down. Coffee?”

You nod gratefully, sinking into a chair at the small kitchen table. “Yes, please. And maybe some painkillers if you have them?”

“Coming right up,” Charles says, placing a steaming mug in front of you before rummaging in a drawer for the pills.

As you sip the coffee, relishing the warmth spreading through your body, Charles returns to the stove. “I hope you like omelets. I wasn’t sure what you’d be up for, but I figured eggs are usually a safe bet.”

“Omelets sound perfect,” you say, your stomach rumbling in agreement. “Thank you. For everything. I ... I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”

He waves off your thanks, sliding a plate in front of you. “No need to thank me. I’m just glad I could help.”

As Charles settles into the chair across from you with his own plate, a comfortable silence falls between you. You pick at your food, your appetite warring with the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

Finally, Charles breaks the silence. “So ... seems like yesterday is quite a story.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “A very long one.”

Charles’ green eyes meet yours, filled with gentle curiosity. “Care to share?”

You hesitate, pushing your food around your plate. Part of you wants to keep it all locked away, to pretend yesterday never happened. But another part of you is desperate to unburden yourself, to make sense of the whirlwind that turned your life upside down.

Taking a deep breath, you begin. “Well, yesterday was supposed to be my wedding day.”

Charles nods encouragingly. “I gathered as much from the dress. What happened?”

“I found out my fiancé — ex-fiancé now, I guess — has been cheating on me. Throughout our entire engagement.”

Charles winces. “Ouch. That’s ... I’m so sorry.”

You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant even as tears prick at your eyes. “Yeah, well. Apparently I’m great at picking them.”

“How did you find out?” Charles asks gently.

You laugh bitterly. “Oh, it was a real soap opera moment. His mother overheard him on the phone with the other woman, literally an hour before the ceremony. She told my mom, who told me, and ... well, you can imagine how that went down.”

Charles shakes his head, disbelief etched on his face. “That’s awful. What did you do?”

“I confronted him, of course. In front of all his groomsmen. It was ... not my finest moment. There was a lot of yelling, some crying, probably some mascara running. And then I just ... ran. In my wedding dress. Like some cliché runaway bride, except I had nowhere to run to.”

You pause, taking a sip of coffee to steady yourself. Charles remains silent, his face a mix of sympathy and something else — anger, maybe?

“I ended up in some bar I’d never been to before,” you continue. “Drank way too much, way too fast. And then I was stumbling around on the street, and ... well, you know the rest.”

Charles nods slowly, processing your story. “Wow. That’s ... that’s a hell of a day.”

You snort. “You can say that again.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Charles says, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand gently. “No one deserves that kind of betrayal.”

His touch is warm and comforting, and you find yourself fighting back tears again. “Thanks. I just ... I feel so stupid. How did I not see it? We were together for five years. We were supposed to spend our lives together. And all this time ...”

“Hey,” Charles interrupts softly. “You’re not stupid. He’s the one who made the choice to betray your trust. That’s on him, not you.”

You nod, not entirely convinced but appreciating his words nonetheless. “I guess. It’s just ... where do I go from here? We had a whole life planned out. A home, careers, maybe kids someday. And now it’s all just ... gone.”

Charles is quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe this is an opportunity.”

You look at him skeptically. “An opportunity? To what, have my heart ripped out and stomped on?”

He chuckles softly. “No, no. I mean ... look, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you’ve been given a chance to rewrite your story. To figure out what you really want, without having to consider someone else’s dreams or expectations.”

His words give you pause. You’d been so focused on what you’d lost, you hadn’t even considered what you might gain. “I ... I guess I never thought of it that way.”

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to see it as a positive yet,” Charles assures you. “Healing takes time. But I promise you, this isn’t the end of your story. It’s just the beginning of a new chapter.”

You manage a small smile, the first genuine one since yesterday morning. “Where did you learn to be so wise, huh?”

Charles grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh, you know. I moonlight as a philosopher when I’m not rescuing damsels in distress from the streets.”

You laugh, surprised by how good it feels. “My hero,” you tease.

As your laughter fades, a comfortable silence settles between you. You find yourself studying Charles, really looking at him for the first time. He’s handsome, in a boyish sort of way, with kind eyes and an easy smile. There’s something familiar about him, but you can’t quite place it.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “I’ve shared my tragic backstory. What about you? What’s your deal, Charles?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, you know. Just your average guy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Average guys don’t usually invite strange women in wedding dresses to stay the night. Unless ... oh God, you’re not married, are you? Did I just cause some poor woman to think her husband was cheating?”

Charles laughs, holding up his hands. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m very much single. And I promise, inviting strange women in wedding dresses to stay over is not a regular occurrence for me.”

“So what do you do, then? When you’re not playing knight in shining armor?”

A flicker of something crosses Charles’ face before he answers. “I’m ... in sports. Racing, actually.”

You nod, impressed. “Racing? Like, cars?”

“Formula 1,” he clarifies. “I’m a driver.”

Suddenly, it clicks. The familiarity, the nagging feeling that you’ve seen him before. Your eyes widen. “Oh my God. You’re Charles Leclerc. The Ferrari driver.”

He grins sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.”

You bury your face in your hands, mortified. “Oh God. Oh God. I cried all over a world-famous race car driver. I used your shirt as a tissue. This is ... this is so embarrassing.”

Charles reaches across the table, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Hey, none of that. I’m just a person, like anyone else. And I meant what I said — I’m glad I could help.”

You peek at him through your fingers. “You’re sure? Because I’m pretty sure I got mascara and snot all over your probably very expensive shirt.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “I promise, it’s fine. The shirt will survive. I’m more concerned about you. How are you feeling now?”

You consider the question, taking stock of your emotional state. “Honestly? Still pretty awful. But ... maybe a little less awful than before. Thank you. Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”

Charles smiles softly. “I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time. And hey, look at it this way — you’ve got a pretty unique story to tell now.”

You groan, but can’t help laughing. “Oh yeah, because drunk and crying in a wedding dress is exactly how I wanted to meet one of the best F1 drivers in the world.”

“One of the best?” Charles teases, clutching his chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m clearly the best.”

You roll your eyes, grinning despite yourself. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of such greatness.”

As you banter back and forth, you feel something shift inside you. The pain is still there, raw and aching, but it’s no longer all-consuming. For the first time since yesterday, you feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay after all.

***

The roar of engines fills the air as you make your way through the bustling paddock, the excitement of race day palpable. You can’t help but smile, still amazed at how much your life has changed in the past few years. From runaway bride to Formula 1 WAG — it’s a plot twist you never saw coming.

“Mon cœur!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Charles jogging towards you, his race suit tied around his waist. He grins as he reaches you, pulling you into a quick embrace.

“Hey, you,” you say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Charles shrugs, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve got time. Besides, I needed my good luck charm.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Flatterer. Go on, get back to work. I’ll be cheering you on from the garage.”

He steals one more kiss before heading back towards his team, leaving you shaking your head with a smile. As you turn to make your way to the Ferrari motorhome, a familiar face in the crowd stops you dead in your tracks.

Your ex-fiancé is standing just a few feet away, gawking at you with wide eyes. For a moment, you’re frozen, unsure how to react. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, since that disastrous almost-wedding day.

Before you can decide whether to acknowledge him or pretend you haven’t seen him, James is moving towards you, a strange mix of emotions playing across his face.

“Y/N?” He says, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Is that really you?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Hello, James.”

He looks you up and down, taking in your sleek outfit and the VIP pass hanging around your neck. “Wow. You look ... different. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with my partner,” you say simply, not feeling the need to elaborate.

James’ brow furrows. “Your partner? You mean like ... a business partner?”

You can’t help but laugh. “No, James. My partner. As in, the person I’m in a relationship with.”

His eyes widen comically. “You’re dating someone involved in Formula 1? Who?”

Before you can answer, a small group of fans approaches, their eyes lighting up as they spot you.

“Excuse me,” one of them says excitedly. “You’re Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, right? Could we please get a picture?”

You smile warmly at them. “Of course!”

As you pose for photos with the fans, exchanging a few friendship bracelets as well, you can see James out of the corner of your eye. He’s standing there, mouth agape, looking like he’s been hit over the head with a frying pan.

Once the fans move on, James practically pounces on you. “Charles Leclerc? You’re dating Charles Leclerc? How ... when ... what?”

You sigh, already tired of this conversation. “Yes, Charles and I have been together for a while now. Is there something else you needed?”

He shakes his head, still looking dazed. “I just ... I can’t believe it. How did this happen?”

“It’s a long story,” you say, not particularly wanting to rehash your past with him. “One I don’t really have time to get into right now.”

James seems to ignore your hint, his eyes narrowing. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t expect me to believe that you’re actually dating one of the best F1 drivers in the world. What’s really going on here?”

You feel a flash of anger at his dismissive tone. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, no offense,” James continues, oblivious to your growing irritation, “but last I knew, you couldn’t tell the difference between F1 and NASCAR. Now you’re supposedly dating a Ferrari driver? It doesn’t add up.”

You clench your fists, trying to keep your cool. “People change. They grow. They learn new things. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He scoffs. “Right. So I’m supposed to believe that in the few years since our ... since we last saw each other, you’ve not only become an F1 expert but also managed to snag one of the most eligible bachelors in the sport? Come on, Y/N. What’s the real story? Are you some kind of ... I don’t know, brand ambassador or something?”

Before you can respond, a warm hand settles on the small of your back. You look up to see Charles standing beside you, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.

“Everything okay here, mon amour?” He asks, his eyes flicking between you and James.

James’ jaw drops even further, if that’s possible. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.

You lean into Charles’ side, drawing strength from his presence. “Charles, this is James. My ex-fiancé. James, this is Charles. My boyfriend.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up in recognition, but he recovers quickly, extending a hand to James. “Nice to meet you,” he says politely, though there’s a hint of steel in his voice.

James just stares at the offered hand, then back at you, then at Charles again. “This ... this is a joke, right? Some kind of prank?”

Charles drops his hand, frowning. “I assure you, it’s not a joke. Y/N and I have been together for over two years now.”

James shakes his head vehemently. “No. No way. This doesn’t make any sense. Y/N, what are you playing at?”

You feel your patience snap. “I’m not playing at anything. Charles and I are together. We’re happy. I’m sorry if that’s difficult for you to comprehend, but it’s the truth.”

“But ... but how?” James sputters. “How did this even happen?”

Charles tightens his arm around you, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Well, if you must know, I found her wandering the streets in a wedding dress, crying her eyes out because her fiancé was a cheating bastard.”

James blanches, his face turning an interesting shade of purple. “That’s ... that’s not ... you can’t just ...”

“Can’t what?” You challenge, feeling emboldened by Charles’ support. “Can’t move on? Can’t find happiness with someone who actually respects me? Can’t build a life that doesn’t revolve around you?”

A small crowd has started to gather, attracted by the rising voices and the presence of Charles Leclerc. You can see people whispering, phones discreetly pointed in your direction.

James seems to notice the attention too, his eyes darting around nervously. “Look, Y/N, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-”

“It’s not a game,” you interrupt, your voice firm. “This is my life. A life I’m very happy with, I might add. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Charles has a race to prepare for.”

You start to turn away, but James grabs your arm. “Wait, just ... just tell me the truth. Is this some kind of revenge? Did you set this all up to get back at me?”

Charles tenses beside you, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I suggest you remove your hand,” he says, his voice low and controlled.

James lets go as if burned, taking a step back. “I just ... I don’t understand. How could you … with him?”

You take a deep breath, deciding to end this once and for all. “James, listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once. What happened between us was years ago. I’ve moved on. I’ve built a life I love, with a man I love. Your inability to believe that says far more about you than it does about me.”

You turn to Charles, softening your voice. “Come on, love. You need to get back to the team.”

Charles nods, pressing a kiss to your temple before addressing James one last time. “It was ... interesting meeting you. Enjoy the race.”

As you walk away, leaving a stunned James in your wake, you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Well, that was ... something.”

Charles chuckles, squeezing your hand. “You handled that beautifully, mon cœur. Though I have to admit, I was tempted to deck him when he grabbed you.”

You lean into him, smiling. “My hero. But I think leaving him standing there like a fish out of water was far more satisfying.”

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you pause, turning to face Charles. “Thank you,” you say softly. “For being there, for backing me up. For ... everything, really.”

Charles cups your face gently, his green eyes full of love. “Always. You know I’ve got your back, just like you’ve always had mine.”

You stretch up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, you know that?”

He grins, that boyish smile that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. “I love you too. Now, how about we go win a race, yeah?”

As you enter the garage hand in hand, the organized chaos of the team preparing for the race enveloping you, you can’t help but marvel at the twists and turns that led you here. From the lowest point of your life to the highest — all because a kind stranger couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.

You squeeze Charles’ hand one more time before he heads off to his car. As you watch him go, you silently thank whatever twist of fate brought him into your life that night. The road hasn’t always been smooth, but you wouldn’t change a single moment of it.

After all, sometimes the best love stories start with a broken heart and end with a chequered flag.

[milkloafy]

I COULD BE YOUR CRUSH — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you gush about your crush to neuvillette over some tea, and your crush unexpectedly joins the tea party and overhears you talking about him. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, fem!reader (use of princess as a petname), sassy neuvi, mentions of ayato ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.2k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: alexa play crush by tessa violet,, LOL i was thinking so hard about the song title then i was like okay yeah these lyrics work ;-; titles are so hard.. anywayyy PLS ENJOY SOME WRIO FLUFF FOR THE SOUL !!

“You just don’t understand, Neuvillette,” you sighed dramatically, stabbing your fork into the delicate cake in front of you. “He’s totally swoon-worthy.”

Neuvillette took a sip of his tea before carefully placing the cup back on its saucer. For a while, he continued to stay silent, as if considering his words.

Once he finally opened his mouth, the only question that came out was a calm, “How so?”

It didn’t take long for a million reasons to pop into your head.

“Well…have you seen his arms?” you gushed. “Is that not enough of a reason in itself?”

Neuvillette scoffed, a smile of amusement playing on his lips.

“That’s not all, of course,” you clarified, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa next to you and hugging it close to your chest. “He’s also caring and kind and treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.” 

Neuvillette’s gaze flickered briefly to the door behind you, but you paid it no mind.

“Not to mention how he looks when he gets all serious. Neuvillette, have you ever seen him talk about a prisoner he had to punish? It’s so…” You hid your face behind the pillow, cheeks flaming at the thought.

Before you had a chance to collect yourself, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You immediately stilled in your seat, slowly bringing the pillow back down to your lap.

“Sorry I’m late. Who are we talking about?”

Neuvillette smiled, ignoring your frantic look directed right at him. “Wriothesley, welcome. You are not too late. Please, take a seat.”

Wriothesley slipped onto the sofa, taking a seat next to you. Neuvillette poured him a cup of tea that he graciously accepted. Looking over at you, Wriothesley brought the drink up to his face and asked, “Care to tell me who you were speaking of before I arrived? It sounded like you were singing their praises.”

You fiddled with the the hem of your silk pajamas— Neuvillette failed to inform you beforehand that a certain someone would be joining the tea party, so you appeared in your regular sleep clothes. You racked your brain trying to come up with a response. 

“Oh, you know… Kamisato Ayato,” you managed, vaguely remembering how you saw his name and face on the cover of The Steambird recently. “The head of the Kamisato clan is such a…dashing and strong leader. I think.” 

“I didn’t realize you were close to Kamisato,” commented Wriothesley, sitting with one leg loosely draped over the other as he leaned back against the sofa.

“Oh,” you shook your head, “no. No, I’ve never even met him.”

Wriothesley raised a singular eyebrow in question. “Your words earlier seemed so strong for something directed at a man you have never met.” 

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though your heart threatened to beat our of your chest. “You know how enamored a crush can make someone.” 

“I do,” Wriothesley agreed, his gaze locked onto yours so intensely that you almost had to blink.

“I’m sure you do,” remarked Neuvillette, still sipping his tea.

You and Wriothesley both looked over at him.

Neuvillette blinked. “Did you forget I was here? This is my office, is it not?” When no one responded, he sighed. “Well, I finished the last of my tea and I have some work to wrap up. Feel free to stay as long as you need.”

Neuvillette made his way back to his desk and Wriothesley refocused his attention towards you. 

“So. Kamisato Ayato,” he brought the clan leader up once more.

You choked out a laugh of exasperation. “Are we still on this? Just let me have my silly little crush on someone across the world who doesn’t even know I exist.”

Tapping his fingers against the teacup, Wriothesley huffed. You realized he looked almost annoyed and frustrated.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, Wriothesley opened his mouth and said, “Would it be overbearing of me to say I wish you had said a different name when I asked who you were gushing over?”

A strange mixture of curiosity and hope filled your chest.

Curiosity as to who he thought you were talking about. Hope that maybe he thought it might’ve been him. 

“You could never be overbearing,” you assured, grabbing a small biscuit from the table and softening it up in your warm tea. “Would it be nosy of me to ask who you wished I was gushing over?”

Wriothesley grinned. “You are certainly nosy. But it’s one of the things I like about you.”

You laughed, wiping a crumb off your lip with a napkin. “Does that mean you won’t tell me?”

“Perhaps another day.”

In the distance, you heard Neuvillette clear his throat loudly. You looked over and saw him glaring straight at Wriothesley. They stayed like that for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Whatever it was, it seemed intense. You were quite glad that glare wasn’t directed at you.

“I believe Wriothesley would like to share that information with you now,” Neuvillette announced after Wriothesley looked away with a sigh.

“Does he?”

“I do,” Wriothesley confirmed, the slightest bit begrudgingly. “Me.”

You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t elaborate. 

You blinked. “What about you?” 

“Are you going to make me say it?” Wriothesley let out a strangled laugh, grabbing a biscuit to munch on himself. “When I overheard you and Neuvillette talking about your crush, I was hoping it was about me.”

You blinked. “Why about you?” 

Neuvillette made a strange noise as a book fell off his desk. He cleared his throat. “Pardon me.”

You barely had time to wonder if he was okay before Wriothesley finally responded.

“You really don’t make things easy for me, isn’t that right, princess?” Wriothesley said with a helpless smile. “I hoped you were saying such sweet things about me, since I would say equally sweet things about you.”

With your stomach turning at both the pet name and his admission, you managed to say, “And if I were to tell you it really was about you?”

“That would make me a very happy man,” he said, unable to contain his delight. “Who wouldn’t be happy to hear the most beautiful and caring person they know is interested in them as well?”

You heard Neuvillette tap his foot impatiently in the background, but you ignored him. You and Wriothesley were having a moment here. 

“So, you’re saying you like me, too?” you asked, not wanting there to be any chance of a misunderstanding. The two of you made it this far, you couldn’t let it fall apart now.

“I like you very much,” said Wriothesley with a nod. “And I have something to take care of at the Fortress this week, but when we both have time next week, perhaps we can celebrate with a dinner. Without Neuvillette there.”

“Please, without me there,” Neuvillette chimed in, his arms folded as he sat in his chair.

You laughed, standing up and brushing the imaginary dust off your pajamas. “All right, I can take a hint, Neuvillette. I’ll help you clean up before I go. And Wriothesley…” 

“Hmm?”

You met his gaze and the corners of his eyes crinkled. You fought off a giggle as you returned Wriothesley’s smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness filling you. “It’s a date.”

[tbaluver]

Hey (●’◡’●)ﾉ I really love your works and want to request a short/long story about lads guys reaction when they found out mc/reader has a high s*x drive and she's embarrassed about it ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

It's okay if u don't want to ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

I'll understand

P. S: I love youuuu ❤❤❤

If You Had A High Libido- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content, oral reader receiving, head canons/ reactions + small smut scenarios a/n: hihi anonnie! i'm so happy to hear you love my works and i hope this was okay lmk ! if not this doesn't exist okay ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) sorry it's taking me a while to write and post stuff i'm currently studying and it's taking up most of my time (っ- ‸ - ς) anyways i hope you enjoy reading ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ p.s i love you too cutie ! your emoticons are soso cute i love them !! (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

poor baby was so confused on why you wanted to go for so many rounds. he thought he wasn't doing enough for you until he asked and that's when you embarrassingly told him about your high libido

"But....do you feel good?" He asked, tilting his head curiously.

"So good, that I can't get enough of you" You whisper, leaning in to press your forehead against his before pressing a heated kiss on his lips.

Xavier is always there to please you whenever you need or wanted him too. He can handle pretty much anything. If he was tired after many rounds, he'll lie down on his back and let you ride him til you meet your sweet release again. He'll give you plenty of options. You can ride his face, his thigh, whatever you want until you were satisfied.

When he says he'll be there for you, he means it. When you were whimpering softly, desperately ignoring the heat growing down there as you try to go back to sleep. You didn't want to wake up your sleeping boyfriend but it seems he was already awake. You felt his arms snake around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"Would you like me to help you?" He knew you would be lying if you said no, even if he slides his hand in between your legs to find you practically soaking already. You bit your lip, feeling his hard erection against your ass.

Zayne:

He didn't understand why you were so embarrassed about telling him. He knows and can read you so well. You can't hide anything from this man. He noticed the way you bit your lip when he licked off the excess ice cream on his fingers or when your thighs clenched when you watched him get dressed.

He would reassure you that having a high libido is natural to have and there is no "normal" sex drive.

"I can assure there is nothing to be embarrassed about having a high libido." He says, his voice remaining monotone as he adjusts his glasses. "Just tell me how I can help you."

He would not be irritated or bothered at all if you needed him. Although if he was busy with work then he'll make a couple arrangements to make sure he finishes his reports while you get your fill. He'll keep you seated on his lap and let you ride off his thigh or he'll keep a toy or his finger or two in you as he continues to finish his patient report with his other free hands.

He'll know what you want whenever you press your ass against him whenever you both cook or whenever you sit on his lap.

He slips a finger under your panties, pulling them down with ease. His cock was hard and he could feel your cunt soaking quickly. He settles you on top of the counter, slowly pushing his length inside of you. His pace starts off slow as your body hums in response.

“That’s it...just like that's my good girl”

The pot that was already cooking was probably close to burning as you two were distracted meeting your sweet release.

Rafayel:

Oh, He loves it way more than he should and he uses this to his advantage to feed off his little praise kink. He just loves to hear his cutie need him so so bad. Hearing you beg and whine for him is like a siren's song to his ears, attracting him closer to you.

"What's wrong cutie?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as he tucks the stray hair behind your ear. You bury your head in his chest, too flustered to admit you wanted more, even after all the rounds you've done together.

"Want m-more" You murmur, your voice muffled against his chest. He chuckles softly, clearly amused, and continues to tease you while gently stroking your hair. "What's that? You need my dick again? Do you want me to fill you up princess?"

You respond by rolling your hips, grinding against him, hoping he would get the idea.

He'll fill you up everyday or whenever you need him too. He loves watching you beg and drip a mix of yours and his juices down your thighs every time as if you were in heat.

"Want me that much? Gonna fill you up so much." Feeling his cum ooze down your legs, his dick going impossibly deeper inside of you. Snapping his hips as whines escape your lips.

Sylus:

“Satisfied baby?”

Your core ached for more and you silently debated on telling him. You knew if you told him you were satisfied, your vibrator or your hands can’t even compare what he does to please you. You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, not realizing Sylus notices this.

He leaned down, tracing kisses down your jawline, to your neck to grab your attention again. “Use your words baby.” He whispers hotly, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

"M-more Sy.."

It does not take him that long to get used to your high libido. If anything he can match your energy or do more. He'll keep going even if his stamina runs out, if it ever runs out.

Sometimes he's uses this to tease you. While he's away for a couple days, he'll send you pictures of his body. His shirt slightly lifted up to give you a tease of his abs and his v-line peeking above his waistband.

If he was feeling mean, he'll send you a mirror pic of his chiseled abdominal, and his carved v-line leading down to the girthiest dick you're familiar with or he'll send you a video of him stroking his dick to get you riled up. "Need my pretty girl to wrap her lips around it"

You're like a drug to him and he's addicted to you. He wants to spend as much time he has with you and he does not find you to be a bother if you were feeling needy when he was in his office.

He buries his head in your folds and you can feel his tongue in and out of you. You push your hips back to meet more of him as he reaches down with one hand to stroke himself. He groans into you, the vibrations bringing you closer to the edge. You reach down to play with your clit as he fucked you with his tongue.

He needed to be inside you as much as you want him to be.