#please feel free to make another request if you like

[diablasuenos]

exes | damian priest

pairing — damian priest x reader | warnings — unprotected sexual activity (please use caution in any sexual situations)

genre — smut, minors DNI | author’s note — been obsessed with him for so long, i finally got to writing a piece for him. lmk what you think. feel free to send a request my way 🫀

You didn’t realize how bad you wanted him, needed and truly wanted him, until this moment. The feelings never left. They simply simmered under the surface and finally rose to the occasion. One drunken text led to one ex picking up another ex, it should have been simple.

But nothing with Damian was simple. He was zealous and hungry and he never wanted someone as bad as he wanted you. He was sure to tell you over and over as he kissed you clumsily, working his hands around your neck and walked you backwards onto his bed. He was ravenous, you could see it in his eyes and once he was on his knees in front of your wet cunt, he felt that hunger grow.

He wasn’t eating you out, no, he was devouring you. He was working so softly against your pussy you were begging him for more. His mouth was so wet and so hot against you that you felt a heat pool in your abdomen. The hum of Damian’s mouth on you made you prop your legs on his shoulder, letting him get deeper into your as he tongue fucked you. Something about him and his desire to show you how he cared mended the part of your heart that hurt knowing he wasn’t yours anymore. But it didn’t matter that he wasn’t yours because he was still acting like you were his.

His hand was rough but they felt so right in your hair as he kissed you. He tasted like a shot of tequila, bad intentions something else you just couldn’t put your finger on, but you kept tugging on him for more. He was vocal with his kisses, mumbling how beautiful he thought you were and how badly he wanted you. His kisses trailed from your lips down your neck and to your collarbone, finding the exposed skin in the dip of your top.

“I need these off,” he commanded in between kisses. He peeled your top off and made a swift move for your pants. You laughed at his eagerness.

And boy was he needy. He found himself giving the same energy he would give to a match, being attentive and receptive to all your sweet moans. He took his time devouring you, unraveling any tension in your body that he could find. The way you whispered his name out — gasping for breath with each stroke he thrust into you — sent him reeling. He was amazed by how perfect it all felt. He wasn’t sure if it was the beers and the shot catching up with him but damn you felt like everything he ever needed.

The feeling of you around him was unlike any woman he had ever been with. Your body melted into his as he gripped the sheets, steadying himself into a rhythm, making you beg for him. His chain dangled low and you found yourself fingering it and pulling it, bringing your lips up to his ear. His skin was smooth against yours and you found yourself grabbing onto him with the same amount of urgency he was using to pound into you. There were few things in this world that you loved more than Damian, even now with your blurred lines of a relationship. You wanted every single bit of him whenever you had him. It wasn’t right but goddamn did it feel great.

“Damian,” you gasped as you felt yourself nearing the edge of pain and pleasure. There was only one man who could make you feel so many things all at once. The craziest part of it was that he felt the same about you. You couldn’t worry about why it didn’t work out, for now you just needed him. “My god.”

“Fuck, you’re right there.” Your voice was sickly sweet in his ear. His eyes found yours and for a moment you could hardly breathe - not because of the way it felt like he was looking right into you. Sex with your ex was not supposed to feel this good. Nothing had ever felt so right. But you couldn’t get too caught up because you knew in the morning that he wouldn't care, hell he probably wouldn’t even act like it happened. But you allowed yourself to dream and to scream softly at each stroke of his hips into yours.

“You feel so good,” Damian spoke. He grunted with aggressive strokes. His eyes were trained on the sight of his cock going in and out of you, the wetness glistening off his skin. “I fucking missed you.” He admitted.

A part of your heart thrived off hearing that he missed you, too. There was some small part of you that didn’t want him to move on without you. You didn’t want him to be fucking - let alone, making love — to any other woman. The thought made you sick but it also encouraged you to pull him close by wrapped your legs around his midsection and force him deeper. You moaned out his name like a meditative chant and you felt the sweat beading on his skin. You raked your nails down his back, wanting to leave your mark, not caring that it would be easily seen by the fans or camera — or any damn woman who was near.

“Damian!” You yelled as he hit your g-spot. You were dangerously close to a your orgasm. You needed him right where he was. He pushed his forehead against tours, his eyes focused on yours.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” He whispered as you gasped out for air, his lips close to your own.

Baby.

He hadn’t called you a pet name in months. No nicknames, nothing affectionate. But now here he was, coaching you through an orgasm with the utmost affection. Somehow, this felt more intimate than when you were in a relationship — this felt soul binding, sacred even.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You begged him and he obliged. You dug nails deeper into his back and he seethed at the feeling, somehow loving and hating the pain. You tried to close your eyes, your head lolling to the side but his hand found your face, squeezing gently as he forced you to look at him. The fact he was using one hand to hold himself up and the other to make you maintain eye contact was thrilling.

“Look at me while I fuck you,” He ordered and you whimpered under the pressure of his thumb and fingers on your face.

“I’m going to,” You whined, unable to finish the sentence as white hot heat flooded your face and body. Your back arched as you yelled out and Damian’s hand moved down to your neck, gripping it gently. He slowed his strokes down but didn’t stop, admiring the way your cum spread all over him. It was the hottest thing he’d seen besides your pretty face as you called out his name. “Oh my god!”

Damian let you ride the high as he stroked you deeply and you whined out for him to take it easy but he ignored your pleas. You knew you could take, he did too. The pleasure was so good it hurt.

As your adrenaline spiked you were clouded with emotion and you remembered how much you loved him. You reminded by how much you needed him, how much you loved being under his touch. You were so overcome by it all that the words came tumbling out of your mouth.

“I love you, Damian,” You said. “Fuck, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Those words sent Damian over the edge as his hips bucked and his stroke seized. He was already on the verge of an explosion but those words sent him beyond his grasp. He told himself he would pull — that he wouldn’t let this get more messed up than it was, but that was before you had come undone underneath him and confessed your love for him. As he came, Damian was sent into his memory of the first time you said I love you — it was the exact same way, the same exact position, the same exact jaw-dropping feeling rumbled in his chest. He couldn’t let you go, not after this.

“Fuck.” He groaned lowly as he pulled out of you and settled next to you.

The two of you laid in comfortable silence as you caught your breath, neither one of you wanting to be the one to speak first. Damian was stunned.

I love you, I love you, I love you. Replayed in his brain.

And he loved you, too.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴡᴇᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺

smut, established relationship, angst, inexperienced reader, p in v, spitting, praise, reassurance, softdom!matt, first time (ish), fingering

requested here!

word count - 1.7k

Matt was warm everywhere. Warm mouth, warm hands, warm breath at your ear as he laid you back against his sheets and kissed his way down your throat.

“You’re sure?” he whispered, lips at your collarbone. “Last chance, sweetheart.”

You nodded quickly, too full of want to say much more. “I want to.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.”

He kissed you again. Deep, slow, tongue slipping between your lips, and pushed your thighs apart with his knees. You were bare beneath him, skin prickling with nerves, heart pounding in your chest. You could already feel his cock, hard and heavy, dragging slow across your center as he moved above you.

You gasped when he lined himself up, breath catching when he pressed the tip to your entrance. But then, nothing. Just pressure. A tight stretch that made your thighs tense and your throat close up a little.

Matt’s hips barely rocked, easing forward, but you winced and stiffened beneath him.

He stopped immediately. “Shit, did I hurt you?”

You swallowed, blinking fast. “No. I mean… not really. It just won’t go in.”

He sat back on his knees, still between your thighs, brows drawn together. “It’s okay. Hey, hey, look at me.”

You did, even though your eyes were starting to sting. “I don’t think I’m wet enough,” you whispered. “I thought I was, but, fuck, I’m sorry…”

“Stop.” His voice was quiet but firm. His hands came to your thighs, squeezing gently. “Don’t you dare say sorry. There’s nothing wrong. You hear me?”

Your throat was tight. “I just… I wanted it to be good.”

“It is good,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “You’re letting me see you like this. Letting me take care of you. That’s so good.”

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed and a little breathless.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he murmured. “I’ll help.”

You did, slowly, and watched as Matt leaned back and brought two fingers to his mouth. He held your gaze as he spit into them, slow and deliberate, hot against his skin, and brought his hand between your thighs. You shivered when his fingers met your folds, spreading the wetness over you with slow circles, soft pressure, deliberate care.

“Feels better already,” he said lowly, more to himself than to you. “God, your pussy’s so pretty. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You nodded quickly, too caught up in the building heat between your legs to form anything coherent. His fingers pressed slightly harder, making small, deliberate circles around your clit, and you gasped, your body instinctively arching toward his hand, heat already pooling in your gut.

You whimpered as he slipped a finger inside you, just one, curling it gently while he watched your face. Then another, stretching you slow, rubbing the slick around and in you. You were already breathing heavier, hips starting to rock toward his hand without even thinking.

“There she is,” he whispered, grinning when your breath caught. “Knew you just needed a little help.”

You felt hot everywhere. “That feels so much better.”

“Yeah? Think you’re ready for more?”

“Please,” you said, barely able to get the word out.

Matt kissed you again, fingers slipping free. He stroked himself once, twice, spreading his spit along his length before guiding the tip back to your entrance. He pressed in slowly this time, watching your face, breathing heavy as he eased inch by inch inside you.

“Oh my god,” he groaned when he bottomed out. “You feel so good. So warm.”

You gasped at the stretch, but it didn’t burn like before. Just full. Deep. Right.

“Doing okay?” he asked, voice low and careful.

You nodded, clinging to his shoulders. “Feels good. Just don’t move yet.”

“I’ll stay right here,” he promised, kissing your jaw, your cheek, your mouth. “We’ll go as slow as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

And he didn’t. Not until your hips started to rock up into his, and your body told him it was okay to move. Not until your breath turned to moans and your hands pulled him closer. Not until he made you feel exactly how he’d promised: safe, cared for, ruined in the softest way.

His hips moved slowly, dragging against you, the pace languid and teasing, every inch of him brushing against the deepest parts of you. He kept his thumb on your clit, rubbing it with slow, gentle circles, and your body tightened around him, every nerve sensitive to his touch.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, breath heavy as he pulled back just enough to thrust into you again. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. “It’s... it feels so good, Matt. So full.”

His smile was soft, but his eyes were dark with want. “I can feel you squeezing me.” His lips grazed your ear. “You feel that?”

You nodded, gasping as he shifted, pushing deeper inside you, and your body responded — your clit aching, sensitive. His thumb brushed over the sensitive little nub just once, a whisper of pressure, but it made you buck against him, the sensation sharp and needy.

“God, baby,” he breathed, watching you writhe beneath him. “You’re so fucking responsive. I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry.”

You moaned again, a soft, needy sound, feeling him shift to angle his thrusts. He leaned down, kissing your neck, his tongue trailing slowly to your collarbone. He was so gentle with you, but the way his hips moved, dragging against you, the soft press of his thumb to your clit, it was too much. Too good.

“More,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his arms. “Please, Matt.”

His thumb rubbed your clit again, slow, enough to make your stomach tighten. You gasped at the feeling, feeling everything too intensely as he kept thrusting in slow, measured motions, dragging each stroke out as though he had all the time in the world to make you feel good. But when he pulled back, just a little, you whimpered, a frown crossing your face.

“It’s... not enough,” you breathed out, biting your lip, feeling the heat build but still not quite where you wanted to be.

He tilted his head slightly, those dark eyes flicking to yours with a knowing gaze. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet authority. “I’ll make you come, baby. Just let me.”

He withdrew slightly and shifted his position again. “Let me.” He slipped his fingers down between you both, tapping a little spit onto his fingers before pressing them gently against your clit. His touch was slow, a mix of heat and slick, and it made you gasp, thighs trembling.

“You’re so wet now,” he muttered, the sound of his voice vibrating through your skin. “Feel that? That’s all you, baby. All you.”

You moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he worked his fingers over your clit, dragging the sensation out in slow, deliberate circles, making your entire body burn with desire. It wasn’t rough. It wasn’t harsh. It was just so slow, each touch intended to make you come undone.

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, just the right amount of pressure to make your hips twitch toward him. Your breath hitched in your chest, and you tried to steady yourself, but the pleasure kept building, higher and higher. You couldn’t help it; your body was taking over, moving with him now, his cock filling you just right, his fingers working you into a frenzy.

“More,” you gasped. “Please, more, Matt.”

He smiled down at you, grinning just a little, but his eyes were dark with desire. “So desperate for me, huh?”

You nodded, unable to find the words. “I need you.”

“Tell me what you need.” His voice was low, almost possessive.

You gasped, struggling to speak as his pace quickened slightly, and you could feel every inch of him, dragging against you. “I, I need you to make me come,” you finally managed to say, your voice a desperate whisper. “Please.”

Matt’s eyes softened, his hand moving to grip your hip, holding you steady as he pulled all the way out. “You’re doing so fucking well for me. Gonna make you feel every inch, love the way you squirm under me.”

When he thrust back into you, the pace was deeper now, and each stroke made your body melt, every inch of you feeling like it was being stretched and filled in the most perfect way. He kept his thumb on your clit, rubbing it with enough pressure that you felt your whole body clench around him, almost involuntarily. Your moans grew louder, more frantic, but he kept the rhythm steady, just gentle enough to keep you on the edge without pushing you over.

He kissed your lips, his breath heavy against yours. “You close, baby?” His thumb pressed harder, just a little, enough to make your hips buck against his, your back arching off the bed.

“Yeah,” you gasped, eyes fluttering closed. “Please, Matt. I’m close...”

And then it hit, so fast, too much to catch your breath as your body tensed, everything tightening, the pleasure overwhelming. You cried out as your orgasm broke through you, waves of pleasure crashing over your body. His thumb never left your clit, still circling, coaxing the last bits of pleasure from you as your body quivered beneath him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with pride and affection. “You’re perfect.”

You could barely respond, your body still trembling beneath him, but he didn’t stop. He kept going, his cock still buried deep inside you, his hand never leaving your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles to keep you riding the high.

“You’re so wet now,” he whispered, his voice rough. “Such a good girl for me. Just let go, baby.”

You moaned, not even sure if you could hold onto anything, just letting him take over, his cock moving in and out of you, his thumb never stopping its pressure. Everything felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

Finally, when your body couldn’t take anymore, Matt slowed his thrusts, his movements tender now, each one slow and deep, helping you come down from the high. You could feel him there, inside you, still hard but gentle, holding you through it all.

He kissed you, softly, slowly, his forehead resting against yours. “You okay?” he whispered.

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. “Yeah… yeah, that was…”

“Good,” he finished for you, his smile warm and affectionate. “You’re perfect.”

You felt a gentle rush of warmth in your chest, letting the safe, caring feeling of the moment wash over you.

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers ꨄ

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this sdbdjbsj i hope u all enjoy

[oddballwriter]

I Love your idol/Singer Reader x Ena oneshot it's Really Good can you make another one but with Webseries Ena💙💛 Please I can imagine her fan girling her S/O while they Perform on Stage~☺️

#1 Fan

Webseries!ENA x idol/performer/singer!reader

Warnings: Nothing too huge. Just the prospect of ENA being shy and getting overwhelmed in certain cases. Otherwise pretty sweet

Author’s Snip: Feel free to request webseries ENA too if you guys want that.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

You’re so right about that Lex!

I’m just gonna go with the idea that you and ENA get together in the same way that BBQ and you do just for simplicity. But I definitely feel like she has her own road to grasping her feelings and eventually getting there

A lot of switching between all her different personality traits, that’s for sure

But again, ENA would be your biggest fan, even before you two met, but she’s even more passionate about you now that you two are a couple

You give her and Moony free tickets to all your shows and sets because ENA loves watching you perform and Moony likes to have the bragging rights that she gets to go to all of your shows

Moony acts like she’s all cool and casual with you and the fact that she gets free VIP entry at shows but she’s also a huge fangirl too, she just likes pretending to be super duper cool and chill even though her means of entry is by proxy with ENA who’s really the VIP

Moony thinks you two are a great couple though. Moony cares a lot about ENA and her happiness and wellbeing (in her own way) and wants to make sure her best friend isn’t getting into anything bad like a shitty relationship, and so she keeps tabs on you and ENA and finds that you really make her happy and clearly care about her too

ENA doesn’t like the spotlight or receiving any attention. She’s really shy and not great with huge social interactions where she has a bunch of eyes on her. It makes her panic and have a meltdown. So you make sure that you don’t outwardly draw attention towards her when on stage like point her out in the crowd.

She also can just hang out backstage if she doesn’t feel very comfortable with being in a huge crowd too. The people at events are always told to let her in, no ifs ands or buts. And they have to be respectful of her.

Some people try and pry about your relationship but you keep it all in private to again, keep ENA out of any attention that might stress her out.

You sing to and with her sometimes, more like a lot. It’s nice. Sometimes ENA even does one of her little dances which you find so cute

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Stuck Together Challenge

Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of May AND June, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including characters that are "stuck together" (figuratively or literally) using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, and Gen/Platonic fics are allowed! Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading. There are prompts below the cut, so keep going!

(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)

Assorted Prompts 🪢

The infamous get-along shirt

There's only one bed/desk/car

Characters play seven minutes in Heaven

Characters get stuck in an elevator together

A threat to the BAU has Quantico in lockdown

Character has to ride on the back of a motorcycle

A storm warning forces Characters to shelter together

Characters are visiting a jail when it goes into lockdown

Characters are forced to go together on a work road trip

The flight is going to be a lot longer than anyone thought

Characters are put on the same team at the annual picnic

During office renovations, Characters must share an office

Characters have to give a shared presentation for the BAU

Characters both get seriously wounded and have to share a hospital room

Characters get briefly stuck in a freezer and have to huddle together for warmth

The stakeout feels like forever when Character is stuck with their “least favorite” coworker

Characters are tasked with digitizing the BAU’s records... all of them... In the tiniest filing room

Characters are tied together as fake-victims in a work training exercise and it takes forever to be saved

During surveillance, the two have to stay close together to listen through a single set of headphones... like, really close

Characters both try to hide in a closet to avoid an embarrassing discovery... then they get stuck inside

Despite their best efforts to avoid their coworkers, Character moved next door to their least favorite

Dialogue Prompts 🧵

“Just… stay on your side.”

“Are you… building a wall?”

“You have to stop moving.”

“Try not to make this weird, okay?” “Too late.”

“At least you smell nice.” “Please don’t smell me.”

“Is that a gun or are you happy to see me?” “It’s a gun.”

“This was not what I meant when I said I wanted to be closer to you.”

"You're a decorated FBI agent, and your instinct was to hide? Here? Really?”

“I can’t believe you’re the one to witness my end.” “It’s been five minutes.”

“Well, there’s one way out.” “You would die.” “That honestly sounds better than staying here with you.”

Rules ✂️

Your fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I collect both! You can also tag “#mentioningmargins”

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed. Please also include some indication of rating if it is NSFW.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post. For xReader fics, PLEASE specify if your reader is Female, Male, or Gender Neutral.

The use of Generative AI is PROHIBITED. Please do not enter any fics that are written in whole or in part by generative AI. Thank you for respecting my boundaries!

The Masterlist of fics will (hopefully) be posted around June 30. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

Happy writing!

[redheadspark]

May I pretty please request Din Djarin from Star Wars with prompt #9? :>

A/N - YAS! I love this, thanks for the request!

Safe

Summary - Din wants you safe. You just want to be with Din

Warnings - Light angst and fluff

You slammed your bag onto the top of your workshop table, Din sighing heavily behind you as you were shoving things in a bit abrasively since you had heat under your skin.  The morning heat seeping in from the open door that showed the market place was making it worse, but you were determined, along with a string of money that you’ve seen saving up for months on end.  If there was any time to get out of the town you were in, it was now.

But Din was thinking otherwise, which was not surprising.

“I’m going with you, end of discussion,” you huffed as you grabbed a few more of your tools to place in the bag.  You could feel his presence behind you, standing a bit stiff in his Mandolorian armor and a stoic look on his face as his helmet was under his arm.  You were used to Din showing his face to you, thought it took some time for him to trust you, trust anyone really, to see how face in broad daylight.  It was part of his life, to hide his face under his helmet in order to stay on the path that he was on.  

For as long as you have known him, truly known him, you knew he had a protective streak about him and would love to keep those he was loyal to close to his heart and safe.  Din was already a lone being in the vast open space, and for good reason.  He would rather be alone than to have someone get hurt because of him and his Mandalorian life.  You knew that it was a mysterious life, dangerous as well.  Yet you had Din, someone who both crept into your life and made your whole a bit lighter simply because of his kindness and openness to things around him.

“You know it’s not a good idea,” He advised behind you, his voice soothing and calm like fresh rain.  He was never once to raise his voice at you, he was always soothing and calm in tone when it came to you.  Ever since he stumbled into your shop to get a repair on one of his pistols.  It was an easy task to do, though you get intimidated to have a Mandalorian in your shop who was treating you with kindness and sincerity.  You gave him a decent price for the repair and even put in a few more items, Din considered you an ally.

Months later, the title of all would morph into lover. 

“No.  What’s not a good idea is you going at this alone when you need a mechanic there on your ship,” You explained as you passed for a second before walking over to another room to grab a few more tools that you almost forgot to get yourself, “Your ship is old, very old.  The last thing you want is one of your engines to blow or something exploding because of your lack of knowledge,”

Din rolled his eyes though you never saw it yourself as you walked back to the bag with more tools in hand, “Besides, you told me this next job is minor,”

“It may be minor, but it take one moment for it to go south,” Din advised you as you finally turned around and faced him. Seeing him in his armor always made her loose her breath, his kind eyes that seemed so genuine though they were filled with pain. You’ve looked into those eyes plenty of times, both with love and with some anger since he was far too stubborn at times.  You two couldn’t help but fight from time to time, mostly because of how you two should not be together because of who he was and what he lived for.

Yet you both defied the odds.

“I know about moments,” You reminded him as you walked over to stand in front of him, gently and carefully placing your hands on his arm to feel his cool armor against your fingers and palms,”I’ve have far too many myself when it came to this shop.  But those moments can either hinder you or set you free,”

You felt Din slip his hand into yours that was resting on his armor, his eyes still on you as you were watching she armor and how it shined in the light of the room.  

“The one moment I don’t regret is telling you how you changed by life,” You admitted sheepishly, a small smile on your face from the memory, “There was never anyone else for me, just you,”

“It’s forbidden with my beliefs, to have someone in my life as close and intimate,” Din explained slowly, you remembering he told you that some time ago when you two were confessing your feelings for one another, “But I was, and still am, willing to change those beliefs to have you in my life,”

It was a risk for him, for you, to be together.  He was a bounty hunter, enemies could be hunting him down without him realizing it.  He had to flee within a second, and yet, you couldn’t stay away from him.  Not from a kindness and need to help others, everything about him was drawing you near him and not away from him.  He was no saint or without sin, neither were you.  But for some reason, you two complimented one another in the best way.

“I need to know that you’re safe.  Because I care about you,” Din explained, you finally looking up at his eyes and seeing him scan yours with affection and seriousness, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” You replied smoothly, Din faintly smiled from those three words, “And because I love you, we are going to go together. Deal?”

Din could only chuckle, realizing that there was no real reason for him to argue with you.  You knew that you own this argument, and with a swift grab of your bag, you flung it over your shoulder and gestured to the opening of your shop, “Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” he hummed.  

The End

April Prompt Session

[yunamoona]

a/n: it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written something that wasn’t an essay for a class, so here’s something I’ve wrote as practice 🩶 that being said, feel free to and please do send me requests in asks! I’d love the practice ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა Short desc on what I’ll write in my pinned post for the time being

but let’s talk about Gojo and Nanami’s friendship/nonfriendship and my favorite headcanon of it for a sec,

q: Where did Nanami get his tie?

a: it was a gift from Gojo.

Nanami’s speckled yellow tie is a gaudy addition to his otherwise professional and cohesive ensemble. Which begs the question: why does he wear it and where did he get it from??

I like to think that upon his return to the jujutsu world, the former salaryman didn’t really care about something as grand as setting himself apart from other sorcerers, but wasn’t too partial to the idea of being aligned with them either.

Thus his choice of dress; the tan suit, blue button up, and loafers. Practical and comfortable, as well as something he’s used to. But he could never find the right tie to match. Despite his fondness of patterns and being a man of decent tastes, nothing would stuck. Windowpane, lattice, houndstooth. Black, red, brown— nothing seemed right. He couldn’t care less, honestly. There were more important things to worry about than the consistency of his tie. Like his accounts and how much money would go in and out of them this month. That didn’t stop it from itching at the back of his mind, however. So much so he developed the unconscious habit of adjusting it. Gojo must’ve caught onto that.

Gojo.

Nanami had never liked the man, or respected him for that matter. He only begrudgingly acknowledged that he was the strongest and most capable sorcerer. Gojo was born that way, it wasn’t a fact he could refute, nor would he try to. It’s important to be realistic. But that didn’t make the man any less of a nuisance.

“Nanamiiiin, glad to have you back on the team!”

“I’m a teacher now, did’ja know? Grading assignments is such a drag though. I’ve started just putting smiley faces on all that paper stuff— not like a jujutsu sorcerer needs to know the quadratic formula, anyway.”

“Heyyy, Nanami?” Snort, “your fly’s down.”

Every minute he wasn’t actively on a mission during work hours made him wish he’d never left his old nine to five. He wasn’t oblivious either, he deduced his own grim theory for why Gojo couldn’t stop clinging to him. The only explanation had to be process of elimination; they’d both lost someone from their graduating classes, one way or another. A friend— a best friend. Now he supposed that whatever gap Suguru Geto left behind was meant to be filled by him in Gojo’s mind. It made logical sense that someone like Gojo would cope that way.

Nanami’s not a cruel man. He wouldn’t voice a revelation like that aloud, no matter how annoying Gojo was. Instead he deflected and avoided him.

Gojo wants to get a drink after work? Ignore him, walk away.

He wants to play a game? Just ignore him— when he saw he wasn’t getting any significant reaction he’d give up and move on to the next person. Sooner or later.

Juvenile dick drawings planted in his pockets? It’s hard to not track down the bastard and stuff the scrap of paper down his damn throat. Just ignore him. Ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore—

“For you.”

Nanami’s brow quirked in suspicion at the small bag brimmed with tissue paper Gojo held before him. His eyes went from Gojo, to the bag, and then to Gojo again.

The white haired man leisurely whirled the bag around his pointer, head craned to one side as he spoke with a smarmy grin, “it’s your birthday, right? Or, was your birthday, a few days ago.” It was almost 4 months ago. “Happy cake day.”

On one hand, Kento was raised to never refuse kind gestures, lest he be rude. One the other hand, this was Gojo and perhaps he could make an exception to that moral.

“I picked it out just for youuu,” Gojo crooned in a sing-song, gesturing the bag towards him. Whatever, Nanami could care le— “it’s reeaaally expensive and nonreturnable.” Dammit.

With a heavy long suffering sigh, Nanami hooked the gift bag straps over his fingers, ignoring the widening grin from Gojo as he reluctantly accepted it. With tepid lethargy he pushed aside the plain tissue paper, pinching the cloth underneath between two fingers to hold up before his eyes. A tie. An abhorrent one, at that.

An odd, murky yellow with dark splotches at random that he supposed was supposed to be cheetah print. Ironic. He hated asymmetrical, chaotic patterns like cheetah print. A detail he guessed Gojo probably didn’t pick up on.

“It’s ugly.” Nanami stated bluntly.

Gojo shook his head with a waggle of his finger and tutting of his tongue. “Mm-mm~ it’s designer.”

Nanami stared at him, really stared at him for a long moment. Trying to decipher why he’d even bother with a birthday gift when he obviously didn’t even care to know when his actual birthday was.

“I appreciate the gesture. However, it doesn’t change my opinion of you.” It was more of a drawn line than it was a thank-you, attempting to bait him into revealing whatever his weird intention was.

“I know.” A simple response that beared more questions than it answered.

“It doesn’t make me respect you, either.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

At the bottom of the bag was a similarly fashioned white and black handkerchief. And those two items he got as his very late 22nd birthday gift were the last he ever received from Gojo.

Years later, Nanami’s put his assumption of Gojo trying to “fill a blank” to rest. They aren’t best friends, but there is a camaraderie in shared experiences and past. And he knows now that Gojo understood that— had always understood that. That you can’t simply replace a person, nor would either of them ever try. All considered he still wouldn’t call him a friend— dismissing him instead as the obnoxious coworker he tolerates.

[tinytalkingtina]

WIP Weekend

Thanks for the tag @sourw0lfs!

I know I still have a number from last weekend in the inbox, but this weekend I actually will have the time to get to them, huzzah!

Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I'll write 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from that WIP. No limits to the amount of emojis you can request, please feel free to send multiple

🐶 B.A.D. D.O.G. (sequel to the college AU puppy play Stomeddie/Stommie fic) is nearly there! Hoping to have time this weekend to make a final push <3

🧜‍♂️ Participating in the STMonsterCalendar Mermay Bingo event, with 2/4 fics for this completed so far. Still need to work on the SFW paired buckingham/steddie fics, but been having fun doing research on waterparks and fleshing out what were supposed to be super short 300-500 word fics. They'll both probably end up closer to 1k, oops. Gonna publish the first of these probably this coming week though!

🏴‍☠️ Eddierotica: "Eddie writes the world's worst erotica about characters who are just poorly disguised versions of himself and Steve. They're not dating." continues! Loving the enthusiasm for this one, hoping I'll have more creativity in the tank to do this justice haha. For what I've been picturing as Steve's live reaction please see this coincidentally perfect photoset Djo recently released. 💥Steddie Big Bang: Secret fic is at 5.5k now, and written out some fun consequences to the worldbuilding choices in this story. This can't be publicly shared yet, so if you send in this emoji feel free to pick another fic as well, and I'll write 3 sentences for both.

Tagging some folks to join in and work on their own WIPs this weekend :D

@vthx @hbyrde36 @pearynice @queenofshenigans @onirislanding

@dame-zoom-a-lot @fkinkindagauche @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @queenie-ofthe-void @yesdangerpls

@apomaro-mellow @strangerthingswritersguild

Enjoy a SFW snippet from 🧜‍♂️ below the cut featuring Eddie's gay longing

Just as he managed to get his group seated, tinny speakers stuttered to life and began to play a jaunty naval-themed tune: it was time for the show to begin. Eddie’s heart beat faster in anticipation of seeing him again. One by one, the mermaids appeared, decked out in bright colorful tails and waterproof makeup to match. Each one was “more lovely than the last!” as the announcer proclaimed. Except that wasn’t true. Because Mermaid #5, with his fire engine-red tail, was the only one Eddie had eyes for. As he swam around, Mermaid #5’s blonde-highlighted hair swirled in the current. It made the perfect halo for his beautiful face, with it’s strong nose, sparkling eyes, and infectiously warm smile. From his vantage point in the arena, Eddie could just make out moles dotted all over his mermaid’s body. And, oh, what a body! Mermaid #5 wasn’t jacked up with bulging muscles like Schwarzeneggger. No, he was all lean lines from swimming strapped into a tail all day. He even had visible abs from some angles, like when he was picking up and tossing another mermaid to fly and flip in the air. Eddie swallowed a sigh. Surely, Mermaid #5 had to be the prettiest boy in the world. And the prettiest boy in the world would never know how smitten he was. Eddie was too much of a coward to even ask around for the guy’s name, much less strike up a conversation. Sure, the sparkling stud Mermaid #5 wore in his ear was promising, but the guy had to already be taken by someone (that hypothetical lucky bastard). Which meant he’d have to be content with pining from afar and bemoaning his fate to Chrissy evening after evening. Not that she was any help, egging on his hopeless crush and laughing at how he tripped over himself to hide whenever he spotted anyone with frosted tips coming his way.

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader: afab/fem!Reader Character: Trafalgar Law Kink: #8 Breeding Kink Prompt: #9 "Fuck, you feel so good." Gift Giver: @jadedrrose

Summary: Law promises to attend to you thoroughly, after you spent all day wanting his attention.

Content Notes: vaginal fingering, light begging, praise, dirty talk, cream pie, soft dom Law

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

Your hands were on the backs of your knees, holding onto your legs as Law’s hands pressed into your thighs, helping you spread your legs wider for him. The position was embarrassing, more so because he’d spent a few minutes just looking at you while you held yourself open for him. Those golden eyes didn’t seem to miss anything, and the tip of his tongue over his upper lip as he nearly leered at you already had your breath coming out heavy.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, hand running down your thigh as he unbuttons his jeans, pushing the pants and boxers down and stroking his stiffening cock slowly.  The way your expression changed when you saw his dick just turned him on more.

It wasn’t fear, not after the first time when the size had darkened your features a little, but now it was just desire. Greedy, needy, desperately obvious for him to see, and he loved it.

“Law, please,” you beg a little, shifting your hips.

“Begging already? Not even going to let me play with you a little first?” He hums the words, moving his hand from his shaft to your slit, pressing a finger against your lips. He moves it up and down a little, grinning as he pushes a long finger inside you.

“You’re already so wet.” He pushes a second finger in, causing you to gasp as a lewd wet sound fills the air. “When you said you’d been thinking about me all day, you meant you’d been thinking about doing this with me all day, hm?”

You avert your face, gnawing on your lip a little. You hear Law chuckle quietly, leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

“I’m flattered,” he assures you, leaning back and lining himself up with your soaking pussy. “If you’ve been wanting this all day, I won’t keep you waiting.”

He pushes in a little, grabbing onto your thigh once the tip’s in, and pushing your legs back as he sinks into you slowly. You let out a shaky breath as he fills you up, feet flexing as you try your best to stay still.

“That’s my good little snowdrop.” He sighs, moving your legs so your ankles are against his shoulders, threading his fingers through yours and holding your hands as he begins to move slowly. Your legs trembling against his chest make it difficult for him to continue his slow pace, but he’s not ready to rush yet.

“You always… feel so good,” he says, leaning over you. The motion presses your legs back, though not any more than they had been earlier. “Everything from your trembling limbs,” he teases, kissing your ankle. “To your tight, trembling, sweet fucking pussy.” He nearly growls the words, pinning your hands into the bed and snapping his hips into you to punctuate each word.

Law grinds his hips into you, pushing deep and leaning into you more. You gasp at the sensation, squirming under him as he begins to thrust into you, leaning low enough your legs slip off his shoulders and rest into the crooks of his arms.

He slows a little, lips brushing against yours, following behind an airy gasp from you, and kissing you deeply. His hands hold onto your tightly as his tongue pushes in your mouth, hips pushing him deeper and grinding into your clit with each shift and movement. You turn your head to the side, drawing in a deep breath and shaking from the pleasure building.

“Please!” You gasp as he kisses and licks your neck, pushing pleasure into you as you twist and tremble under him. “Please, La-Law.”

“Mmm, please what?” He murmurs into your skin, teeth sliding against tender flesh and pulling shivering gasps from you.

“F-fill me up. Cum… inside me, please.” You beg, a moan rattling in your chest as his teeth press into your skin just deep enough to make your back try to arch, despite being pressed into the mattress.

“Anything for you, (Y/N).” He agrees, nipping at your earlobe a little before he adjusts enough to start thrusting into you almost roughly. His breath is coming out heavy and you realize he was holding himself back for a while, almost as though he was waiting for you to ask for it.

His hips buck erratically, thrusting almost harshly as you feel him empty himself inside you. His fingers tighten against yours, flexing jerkily as a soft grunt turns into a few heavy breaths. He shifts his hips slowly, grinding against your clit and keeping you on edge while he takes a moment to recover.

“I’m going to fill you up twice as much as I make you cum,” he insists, grinning as he starts to move his hips more. “Or maybe I’ll make you cum twice as much as I fill you up.” He corrects, leaning low and speaking right by your ear.

“I’m sure you’ll be too full of cum and pleasure to know which one it was by the end of it.”

Check out the event - requests are accepted until 7/31/2023 EST

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

Hmmm watcher grian spiderverse? A pirate or Listener Martyn from the life series?

i decided to go with listener martyn, i will be drawing a watcher grian later tho lmao (i wanted to answer your ask asap, so you get a listener martyn and grian'll come later, hope that's good w/u)

i popped him into spider-canary's dimension, he's one of the other super-powered beings there-- but instead of him being a villain, he's more like a bit of a wild card who just pops up behind jimmy and chats with him, which gets jimmy very annoyed most of the time.

design below the cut!!

( scott + jimmy's designs )

3. The Listener (aka Martyn)

main inspo for this is from @/cherrifire 's design btw :3

age: 30 pronouns: he/she sexuality/romantic orientation: lesbian gynesexual height: 6'9'' SMP: Last Life personality: down-to-earth, funny, laid-back, anxious, constantly fatigued, fickle, reserved, charismatic

"I'm not here to harm you, but I'm not here to help you either. I'm not some malicious beast, Spider-Canary. I just like to... listen. The Watcher, on the other hand. Now, there's a malicious presence." -- The Listener

______________________________________________________________

The Listener is definitely a more recent nuisance for Spider-Canary; he showed up about a year ago and now just appears in random places where Jimmy is, annoying the hell out of him as well as spooking him away from his prey. Martyn likes to hang upside-down from buildings (which is where he most often gets the jump on Jimmy) as his powers are pretty much those of a bat's, so super-hearing (obviously), hanging upside down from stuff, being nocturnal, etc.

Martyn's outfit is obviously quite different to either of the spider-man designs I've drawn so far, mostly because he's NOT spider-man. So his hair is blonde, as you'd expect-- it's kind of a dusty blond, maybe even light brown. His blindfold is dark brown, the same color as the main part of his vest, his boots, and his sleeve cuffs. His sleeves themselves are a slightly lighter yellow than his hair, and that same color is repeated on his... butt-cape?? What's that thing called? Ah never mind, you know what I'm talking about. His pants and scarf are orange, as well as the button-strip in the middle of his vest. The buttons are about the same color as the vest itself.

[dem0nyo]

☆ six hairstyles!!!!1! (no idea what to title this) ☆

a bit random, but i guess the common theme here is micro bangs. suitable for your vampires and darkly-inclined simmies (or whoever really). most of these were wips from last year and the way i make hairs has changed a bit since, but thought i'd still share them.

unedited CAS screenshots and more info under the cut.

BGC

feminine frame

24 EA swatches + 17 extras

teen-elder

hat compatible

all LODS, all maps

TOU

✧‧₊˚ DOWNLOAD: Patreon (FREE) | SFS ‧₊˚✧

thank you so much for the support <3 if there are any issues, please lmk

still not sure if i like render previews so i included CAS pics anyway. renders are nice looking but they don’t accurately preview how CC looks in-game and they can take a long time, at least on my PC still running on 2017 hardware. my GPU is decent but everything else, not so much. anyway...

Maila 🦇 (7377 polys)

named after Maila Nurmi aka Vampira, this is a Chelsea cut with v-shaped bangs and pigtails. this was actually a request i did last year based on someone's OC. idk if they have a Tumblr, but shoutout to them anyway <3

Rosario 📿 (16625 polys)

another older one. i'm thinking about making this unisex but i'm so dejected rn i don't feel like opening Blender for a bit (someday tho). it's not locked to fem frames but it will clip with the neck when put on masc frames.

Odette ⚰ (15485 polys)

based on this one hairstyle i saw on Pinterest, i can't find it for some reason even though i made this fairly recently.

Lucinda ☀ (19814 polys)

wavy jellyfish cut, this is the most recent one i made. it’s for an OC of mine and it's probably my favorite out of all these. maybe.

Yesenia 🕷 (10869 polys)

just a little edit of the L&D updo, nothing too special. made this when the pack just came out. i could’ve done more with it and added more strands because i like to suffer but it’s fine.

Valentina 🖤 (17332 polys)

idk honestly. this was meant to be for personal use but i thought it was cute enough to share.

[dior-luxury]

I need some teasing romantic fluff, can I request the housewardens reaction to being pulled into a random room by their lover and being smother with kisses. Please and thank you 💖💖

Kiss And Make-Out

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff - she/her .

- [𝐜𝐡.] dormleaders

- [𝐩:𝐬] suggestive themes . mentions of making out ofc

Note: Honestly thing took me shorter than I thought it would to write Lol. And I tried my best to not make it extremely suggestive... But I then realized I have free will and just made it regularly suggestive.

Riddle Rosehearts

The hallway was quiet, lined with the dignified wallpaper and polished wood of Heartslabyul’s east wing. Riddle was walking beside you, dutifully listing the upcoming events for the next dorm meeting, when you suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"Wait—what are you—!" he sputtered, blinking rapidly as you tugged him into a nearby, empty reading room.

The door slammed shut behind you. Bookshelves stood in neat rows, sunlight streaming through high windows. But you didn’t give Riddle a chance to take in the room. You spun him to face you, pressing your body close, your hands already cupping his cheeks.

“[Name]!” Riddle gasped, eyes wide, ears turning red. “This is highly improper—”

You kissed him before he could finish.

His breath hitched as your lips met his in a flurry of soft, passionate kisses—one on the lips, another on the cheek, then two more down his neck. His back gently met the shelf behind him, a soft thump muffled by his uniform. He stood stiff for a second, flustered beyond belief, but then…

"...You're being completely unreasonable," he mumbled between kisses, although his hands were now resting on your waist. "I can't focus when you do that."

But he didn’t stop you.

Your kisses moved down to his collarbone, and Riddle squirmed just a bit. His face was a flaming red now, his breathing shallow. You could feel the way his heart was thudding under your fingertips as you ran your hands through his soft red hair.

“I’m trying to behave…” he whispered.

“But you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you replied sweetly, stealing another kiss from his lips.

Eventually, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out a quiet, surrendering sigh. “Only you could get away with something like this…” he muttered, arms now wrapped around your waist. “But if Trey walks in, I’m blaming you.”

Leona Kingscholar

You knew Leona was headed back from Spelldrive practice—his shirt clinging to his broad chest, his hair tousled, golden skin glistening with sweat. You had timed it perfectly.

As he turned the corner toward the dorm hallway, you jumped out from behind a tapestry, grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“Tch—what the hell—”

You dragged him into an unused music room, slamming the door behind you.

“Oi, herbivore, are you trying to start a fight?” Leona snapped, eyebrows furrowed, tail lashing in confusion.

But your only answer was kissing him hard.

The snarl caught in his throat immediately vanished as you caught him by surprise, hands sliding up his toned chest, lips moving over his with soft, heated insistence. For a moment, he stood stock-still, blinking, your kiss leaving him dazed. Then you kissed the corner of his mouth, then under his jaw, and he let out a slow, very audible groan.

“You really woke up and chose chaos today, huh,” he muttered against your lips.

He let his bag drop with a thud. “You could’ve waited ‘til I showered, but nah, you want your king like this?”

You nipped at his lip playfully, whispering, “I want you like this especially.”

That was enough.

Leona’s hands gripped your hips with a growl, spinning you and pressing you back against the wall, kissing you with fierce hunger now. His tongue brushed yours, his fangs grazing your lower lip as he kissed you harder, deeper. His tail flicked behind him, betraying his rising desire.

“I should punish you for ambushing me like that,” he murmured against your ear, voice gravelly.

“But I won’t.”

His smirk was dangerous and lazy all at once.

“Not yet, anyway.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul had just finished another long meeting in Mostro Lounge. You waited until the twins had left him alone in the hallway before you struck.

“Azul, can I borrow you for a second?” you said sweetly, tugging at his sleeve.

“Ah, certainly, my pearl—wait, where are we—?”

You pulled him into a supply closet of all places. It was dimly lit, a little dusty, but private. Azul looked around in confusion, pushing up his glasses.

“I—is this about the contract I was drafting—?”

You didn’t answer. You kissed him.

The poor boy short-circuited. He froze as your hands slid into his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp. You kissed his lips, then his cheek, then the underside of his jaw, and he visibly shivered.

“[Name]—w-wait—why now? I-I didn’t prepare—!” he stammered, glasses askew, already blushing violently.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again, long and slow this time. Azul's knees buckled slightly, and he caught himself by gripping the shelves behind him. His breath was trembling as you ran your fingers down his sides.

“You… you’re going to kill me,” he whispered, eyes wide behind his fogged glasses. “This is too much for a man of my constitution…”

But even as he said that, his hands found your waist, gently pulling you closer. His lips brushed your ear.

“I suppose I shouldn’t complain about having such an affectionate girlfriend…”

You smiled. “You love it.”

“…Don’t tell the twins.”

Kalim Al-Asim

You caught Kalim just as he was coming down the golden staircase in Scarabia, humming to himself, all sunny and unbothered. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you.

“[Name]!! I was just about to look for—WHOAAA!!”

You didn’t let him finish. You grabbed his wrist and yanked him into the nearest room—one of the spare guest suites with gauzy curtains and sun spilling in through the arched windows. He stumbled in after you, laughing the whole time.

“You’re so full of surprises today—ACK!”

You tackled him onto the cushions, landing right on top of him with a mischievous grin. Before he could ask anything, you started kissing him—peppering his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, and his lips with kisses so fast he couldn’t even catch his breath.

“Wha—mmf! Wahahaha—[Name]!! Wait!!” Kalim laughed uncontrollably, trying to catch your hands in his. “You’re kissing me too fast—I’m gonna pass out from happiness!!”

You finally paused just long enough to look down at him. His white hair was a little messy, his golden eyes gleaming, his face flushed and grinning like the sun itself.

“Was that all for me?” he asked breathlessly, cheeks glowing.

You nodded and leaned in again, kissing his lips a little slower this time.

He melted under you like butter on hot sand.

“Wow,” he murmured, now dazed. “You’re… amazing. I think my heart just did a triple somersault. I should throw a party just to celebrate this moment!”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You really would, huh?”

“Of course!! I’ve never felt this lucky in my life!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil was walking briskly through the upper halls of Pomefiore, hair and uniform immaculate as ever, when you stepped directly into his path.

“Vil,” you said, breathless and determined.

He arched a single, elegant eyebrow. “Yes, darling?”

Without answering, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into a side hallway, then pushed open a door into one of the unused dressing rooms. The full-length mirrors and velvet furniture gave the room an intimate feel—one Vil would usually approve of.

“What exactly are we—mmph!”

You shut him up with your lips.

You kissed him firmly, again and again, ignoring his stunned stillness. His back lightly hit the vanity table, and your hands found his jaw, tilting his head as you kissed a path from his lips to his cheek to that spot right below his ear.

Vil sucked in a sharp breath.

“[Name]… this is hardly a—ah—suitable location…” he said, voice breathy despite himself.

You kissed down his neck, and he gripped the edge of the table hard enough for the wood to creak.

“…I’m trying to remain composed,” he hissed, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re ruining my lip gloss.”

You kissed him again, slower this time, tasting the faint berry gloss on your lips. “I’ll buy you another one,” you whispered.

His hands finally slid up your arms, resting on your waist. His expression softened, pride melting into fond exasperation.

“You’re so bold when you want to be,” he murmured, brushing his forehead against yours. “But you should know… if you keep kissing me like that, I might not let you leave this room for a while.”

Idia Shroud

You had to be sneaky with Idia—if you startled him too hard, he’d vanish into a puff of blue flame and digital pixels.

So when you saw him walking back from the library with headphones in and Ortho floating behind him, you waited until he was alone—just outside the server room in Ignihyde.

You pounced.

“AHHH—SYSTEM ERROR, WHAT THE—?!”

You yanked him into an empty tech room and closed the door behind you. Idia stumbled backward, hair flaring slightly blue with panic.

“W-Wait, are we being chased?! Is this a boss battle? Did you glitch through reality again—?”

You didn’t let him finish.

You kissed him. Right on his startled, slightly parted lips.

His brain blue-screened.

Idia’s body stiffened like a glitching NPC. You kissed him again, this time on the cheek, then again, trailing little kisses along his jawline. His hoodie bunched under your fingers as you leaned into him, holding him close, while his hands flailed in the air like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“M-M-M-M-Moe overload—emergency shutdown imminent—!!”

You giggled and pressed a softer kiss to the tip of his nose.

That seemed to reboot him. Slowly, his shaking arms wrapped around you, awkward at first, but growing tighter as you kept going. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Are you real? Like… for real real?”

“Very real,” you said, kissing him one more time.

He leaned into you then, forehead pressed to your shoulder, still flustered but clinging to you like you were the only stable thing in his world.

“…You’re OP,” he mumbled. “Totally broken character build. It’s unfair. Nerf girlfriend pls.”

Malleus Draconia

It was late evening, just after sundown, and you spotted Malleus walking alone through one of the lesser-used halls of Night Raven College—moonlight catching on his horns, his cape flowing behind him like royalty incarnate.

“Malleus!” you called, jogging up beside him.

He turned with a small smile, the kind that he reserved just for you. “Ah, my love. What fortune brings you to this path?”

Without warning, you grabbed his hand—cool, calloused, always gentle—and tugged him through the closest heavy oak door. The room was empty, dark except for the faint shimmer of magic-laced torches. Dusty furniture and a grand window gave it an old, castle-like feel. Perfect.

“Where are we going?” he asked, tilting his head. “Is there danger?”

You didn’t answer. You pushed him back gently against the wall and kissed him.

His eyes went wide, not in shock, but in the quiet kind of awe that only Malleus seemed capable of. You kissed his lips, then his cheek, then the pale stretch of skin along his neck. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pulling him closer, kissing him again and again—slow, soft, reverent.

“Dearest,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion, “your affection is… overwhelming.”

You kissed the tip of his jaw. “Is that a problem?”

“…Not in the slightest.”

His voice dropped low, velvety and deep, as he rested his forehead against yours. “You wield power greater than most—did you know? Not in magic, but in how effortlessly you undo me.”

You smiled and kissed him again, this time slower, and something in him finally gave way. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as his lips met yours again, more certain now, more claiming. His kisses were intense and unhurried—like time stopped for you and him alone.

“If this is what it means to be mortal,” he whispered between kisses, “then I never wish to be a god again.”

[mybbmbby]

Thinking about Simon loving back scratches.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

˚ ༘ ꕥ ⋆｡˚

You could never simply just, go to sleep around Simon. No, of course, he wanted you to scratch his back. The first time this happened you thought it was almost amusing, hearing his faint groans as your fingernails scratched down his scarred skin. Soon it became routine, him rolling onto his stomach as you settled into bed, silently asking for you.

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It was just another regular night, you and Simon had been lounging on the couch watching TV. A yawn escapes your lips, giving a final squeeze to his hand before standing up from the couch. He knew what that meant, you were tired.

“M’gonna finish this episode, love,” he said softly to you as you walked out of the living room, an “ok,” leaving your lips in reply as you walked to your shared bedroom. You made your way to the bathroom, dragging a makeup wipe across your face to remove any lingering traces from your skin.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed your eyes, relishing the rare sensation since your lashes were usually coated in mascara. You dragged a damp washcloth across your face, the warm sensation soothing over your skin. Soft footsteps against the carpet could be heard as you rubbed moisturizer onto your face, hearing Simon plop down onto the bed.

Turning off the bathroom light, you headed back into the bedroom, rummaging through your dresser for some pajamas. Grabbing an oversized shirt, his shirt and a pair of shorts, you discarded your other set of clothes into the hamper.

“Nice view,” a gruff voice spoke from behind you as you slipped on the shorts. You huffed out a laugh at his words, slipping on the t-shirt before making your way over to sit down on the other side of the bed. “Y’look good in this,” he said quietly, his calloused hand gripping lightly on the edge of the t-shirt.

“Thanks, Si,” you replied, watching as he released the fabric and rolled over onto his stomach with a faint groan. Your eyes narrowed slightly at the sight, amused at his actions. “That's how you’re sleeping?” You questioned teasingly, seeing his head turn to the side to look at you. “Back’s itching, could you scratch it a bit?” He said, his voice slightly muffled from the sheets.

Amused by his words you huffed out a laugh; it was time. You moved over, sitting down on your knees as your hand began to scratch slowly along his shoulders. You could see how his muscles tensed under your touch, hearing him let out a faint groan.

“Seems like I do this every night now,” you said softly, nails continuing to scratch slowly along his skin. “Yeah? S’nothing wrong with that,” he murmured out quietly, eyes fluttering closed. “You can always just ask, y’know, doesn’t bother me,” you said quietly.

He hummed in response before murmuring out quietly, “Your hands feel good, so soft.” Your hand moved lower, scratching down his spine gently. You smiled softly at his words, your other hand going up to run through his short blond hair, fingers playing with the strands by the base of his neck. “Is-“ you were cut off by a loud snore erupting from his throat, seems like you put him to sleep.

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Please feel free to leave requests! : ̗̀➛ 💌

[slapmeshigaraki]

"You're pretty when you cry."

summary: uhhh meanie!rafayel likes it when you squirt...to put it simply

cw: pussy slapping, really condescending, slut shaming, daddy

"No no no more talking. You lost your speaking privileges." The usually soft-spoken boy was suddenly enraged, growling through his gritted teeth as he slammed his hips into you from behind, snaking his free hand around your body and covering your mouth.

"You should be thanking me, honestly. It's not like you deserve to feel good, do you? Brats shouldn't get to come at all. I'm doing you a favor, aren't I sweet?" Your muffled screams only made him fuck into you faster, your sticky skin smacking against his, creating such filthy sounds--god, it was all making him so painfully hard. Tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes now as he forced your face down into the mattress, reveling in the way he could see every muscle in your back tense and contract whenever he pushed himself into you.

"Fuuuck, you're so wet, angel. You don't like this, do you? You getting off on being bullied? Only a slut would like that--you're not a slut, are you baby?" He released your mouth, anticipating an answer, but only moans left your lips.

"Answer me and don't fucking lie." His hips stilled at once, a few free fingers sliding down between your legs, threatening to slam down onto your clit if he didn't hear what he wanted to.

"No not a slut--fuckk please keep fucking me."

"Mmmmh see, princess that was a lie. Do you think a good girl's cunt would be this fucking nasty?" Without warning, he pulled out entirely, leaving your hole to clench around nothing as he placed a harsh slap onto your cunt. You screamed out at the sensation, quickly trying to force your legs closed, but it was no use, as Rafayel forced your thighs apart with one of his own.

"Don't try to run now. You wanted this remember. You were the one using this dirty fucking mouth to beg me earlier, 'pleaseee daddy, just touch me.' I'm touching you now, aren't I baby? What do we say when someone gives us a gift?."

"Thank you thank you..." Another hard smack landed on your clit, forcing a shriek out of your mouth.

"I said thank you!" You protested at the unwarranted punishment only to be met with another harsh spank.

"I heard you." He did, but that didn't mean he was going to stop. The way your cunt was soaking his fingers and the way little gasps left your lips each time he slapped your swollen clit was far too entertaining. It was only a matter of time before your struggled screeches turned into moans, your hips gently grinding back against his palm at every point of contact.

"Please..."

"Please what? What do you want, baby, hm? Come on use your big girl words."

"Please, can I cum?" He couldn't help but to laugh at the pathetic request.

"Be more specific. What do you want me to keep doing, huh? What is it exactly that's about to make you cum all over my fucking hand?"

"Please keep slapping my cunt, daddy." There it was... he had you right where he wanted you--gasping and writhing beneath his touch, making a little puddle of drool on the sheets, begging him to do something so degrading to you. He had won and Rafayel was anything but a humble champion.

"Aww of course I will, pretty girl. Go ahead and cum for me. Fuckkkk that's it. This pussy is so fucking sloppy for my fingers, come on. Give it to me, angel--it's mine...Shittt what a creamy mess." A few more smacks and you were cumming, tits smushed against the mattress, back arched, ass pressed back into Rafayel's fingers as incoherent little mumbles left your mouth. Much to his surprise though, you weren't just cumming from him slapping your clit--you were squirting. A stream of wetness covered your thighs and his torso, his eyes widened at the sight as he continued forcing his palm down against your flesh.

"Fuckkk you are sick. Making a puddle like this all over me--you tryna mark your territory or something, baby?" Before you could answer you felt his length slam past your entrance once again, somehow stretching you more than before as you quivered and shook, your orgasm still coursing through your body.

"Wait wait please--fuck slow down..." It was no use, his palm was against your mouth once more, your juices covering his skin, the taste of your own wetness soaking your lips.

"Speaking privileges revoked, once again. If you're not gonna use your mouth to say something smart, then you should just be quiet all together, huh? You're sick, aren't you? You're a nasty slut--let daddy give you your medicine, baby. Let me make you a good girl again." His grip on your face forced your back to arch even more than before, pulling you up from the mattress, your back against his chest. It wasn't until now that he saw your face, eyes low, hair glued to your forehead with sweat, your neck glistening from the spit that had dripped down past your lips--but it was the tears that he liked the most, the way your little wet eyelashes looked, the pouty pleading gaze... he could've came right then.

"Fuck...can I tell you something, sweet girl?" All you could do was sob and moan out against his palm.

"You're pretty when you cry." he whispered, placing the softest kiss to your wet cheek. "Make another mess for me, will you? I wanna see this pussy cry again too, angel."

a/n: okayyyy sorry for being MIA. full transparency, i started taking antidepressants a few weeks ago and they make me have like NO sex drive at all. until today i randomly thought about fucking rafayel, so i decided to fill one of my asks. anywayyyy hope you enjoy, specifically the person that asked for this. have a good day, lovelies xx

[autumnscribbles]

take care of you | rc

pairing: mommyissues!rafe x pogue!reader

summary: after a heated argument with ward, rafe seeks comfort from the only woman in his life who’s ever stayed

warnings: wee bit of theorizing about mama cameron (death)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: hey friends!! thank you to the anon that sent this request in!! i love me a soft rafe moment who just needs to be held🥹 enjoy!! feel free to send me more angsty/soft rafe i love it!!!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Rafe slammed the truck door shut behind him, twisting his key into the ignition. Ward stood in the doorway ahead of him, his mouth moving but his words unheard. Rafe stopped listening to him even before he decided to leave. He couldn’t listen to it anymore. The rain pelted the windowsill, overpowering the pounding sound of his accelerated heartbeat. He pulled out of the driveway, no destination in mind. He just had to leave.

As he drove, his headlights broke through the rain ahead, illuminating the pitch black road. His breathing was still heavy, trying to ignore his fight with Ward. They weren’t exactly few and far between, but this one had escalated particularly badly. He replayed it over and over, on the verge of screaming just to make it stop.

He didn’t know why he tried to hard to impress Ward, or to get his validation. Everyone is his life left in one way or another. Whether it was on their own terms, or they were taken. He clung to Ward and the fact that just maybe, he would stick around. Be proud of him. In the end, everyone gave up on him. Everyone screwed him over.

Except maybe one person.

When Rafe first met you, he didn’t like you. He never thought he could be friends with a pogue, let alone be with one romantically. You had too much confidence for someone who didn’t have very much. He admit, he thought less of you. He judged you about things that didn’t truly matter. Eventually, he began to find you endearing. You didn’t need boats, a big house, designer clothes, or anything material to be happy. You knew who you were, and he admired that.

You understood him in ways no kook ever had, and probably more than any kook ever will. You knew hardship, and you saw through his bravado. You could tell deep down, he was in pain. No money could fix what was truly happening inside. All the other kooks were shallow. Never having any conversations with substance, just rambling about bullshit. Rafe never really fit in with any of them. He pretended to be friends with most of them, to keep up appearances and his reputation. At the end of the day, he knew none of them truly cared about him. Even worse, he knew they would mock him if they knew he was with you.

Without realizing, Rafe ended up pulling into your driveway. Through the still pouring rain, he could barely see your house. All the lights were off, including the porch light. Were you home? He didn’t even know. As his mind reeled, he automatically drove here. He wanted to see you. Wanted your comfort. Before you, he hadn’t had that in a long time. Since his mom…no one had ever been there for him. No one to tell him things would be okay, no one to comfort him, or hold him. He craved it.

He hopped out of the car, jogging through the rain to your front door. He rapped his knuckles, hoping you would appear on the other side. He saw a light turn on inside, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

You opened the door, met with a dripping wet and sad looking Rafe on the other side. You were surprised to see him. You had some distance from each other recently, since Rafe told you that his friends couldn’t know about your relationship. You pulled back as he continued to hang out with them, unsure how to move forward.

Seeing him here made your heart sink. He pouted as his blue eyes bore into yours, sadness overcoming his entire expression.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “Please.”

“Of course,” you muttered. You stepped aside, letting Rafe into your empty house.

He crossed the threshold, a shiver coming over his body at the sudden change of temperature. His wet clothes left him cold, making the warmth of your house even more shocking to his system. He wiped at his face in attempt to dry it.

“Are you cold?” you asked gently. “Here let me go get you some clothes and a blanket.”

You walked away for a moment, leaving Rafe standing in your doorway. You gathered a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that belonged to your brother. He wasn’t here, he wouldn’t mind. You snatched your fuzzy blanket from your bed, scurrying back to where Rafe stood waiting. You passed him the clothes, offering him to go change.

As he took his time, you put a kettle of water on the stove. Opening your white cabinets, you rummaged through the various flavours of tea you had. You settled on chamomile. You knew Rafe liked it, even though he would never admit it to literally anyone else. You grabbed 2 mugs and placed the tea bags inside as the kettle began whistling.

You took the two steaming mugs out to the coffee table, where Rafe sat on the couch, waiting for you.

“Here,” you muttered, handing him the mug. You grabbed the blanket, placing it across his lap. “That should warm you up.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, gentle eyes looking up at you.

You sat down beside him, tucking your legs up on the couch. You both sat in silence for a moment, sipping your tea. He let out a small sigh after his first sip, a little smile tugging at his lips.

“My favorite,” he whispered. You responded with a nod.

“You take such good care of me,” he said, breaking the silence more. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Rafe,” you sighed.

He shook his head, not wanting you to deny the truth. He didn’t want you to tell him that he deserved it when he knew it wasn’t true. You were consistently there for him, exuding a kindness he’d never felt. Yet what did he do in return? Essentially tell you he’s embarrassed about your relationship. It was ridiculous, and you shouldn’t be nice to him.

“Come here,” you whispered, opening your arms to him.

His eyes welled up with tears, and he leaned over, resting his head on your lap. You tugged the blanket up slightly higher, covering his torso. You ran your hands through his hair and down his back, feeling the tension release from his body.

Unexpectedly, the tears continued to fall harder. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as he heaved out a sob.

“You’re okay,” you cooed. “I’m here.”

He let out all the emotions he had been trained to hold back. Grown men didn’t cry. Strong men didn’t cry. This is what he was told over and over. No one ever let him express himself freely, or show vulnerability. For some reason, he felt safe to show it around you. Confident that you didn’t judge him, or view him as weak.

He didn’t realize how much he was craving to just be held. To have his hair played with, his back scratched. To be told it’s okay. He couldn’t remember a time when someone treated him so gently. He wondered if his mom was the last person who truly took care of him. Now, he felt responsible to take care of people around him most of the time.

“Talk to me,” you said. “What happened?”

“My dad,” he blurted out. He rubbed the tears from his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. “We got into a fight, as always. I accused him of…of killing my mom.”

“What?” you asked, unable to hide the shock in your voice. “Do you really think…”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was too young, but sometimes what he says just doesn’t add up. Doesn’t matter anyway, not like anything would happen to him.”

You nodded silently, knowing he was right. Even if Ward had killed her, no justice would be had. You knew Rafe grappled with the loss of his mom. Rose wasn’t exactly a replacement. She was cold, unkind. Rafe was in a constant battle with Ward. Trying to impress him, get his validation. Rafe grew up wanting his dad’s success, but most of all he just wanted his love. His acceptance. He didn’t think he would ever have a real family. That possibility only came into view when he met you.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” you consoled him. “I know how tense things can get with your dad. My arms are always open if you need a break, or need to talk.”

He sat up from your lap, facing you. His eyes were bloodshot from his previous tears. His usually hard features had softened, his eyes still carrying a deep sadness that you knew you couldn’t fix.

“I’m going to tell everyone we’re together,” he told you. “You’re…you’re perfect. You don’t deserve to be hidden. I don’t deserve you in general.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “When you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” he nodded. “I think…I think you’re the only person who actually cares about me. Who listens and…sees me.”

Your eyes welled up slightly. You weren’t expecting Rafe to say something so vulnerable like this. His rough edges were beginning to soften around you.

“I see you, Rafe,” you told him. You reached out and cupped the side of his face, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone.

He leaned forward, his warm lips crashing onto yours. The kiss was desperate, yet gentle. You didn’t realize how much you had missed this. When you pulled away, Rafe’s eyes were glistening once more.

“Everyone in my life leaves, or screws me over,” he told you, repeating his previous thoughts. “Please don’t leave me.”

You pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. He melted into your touch, safety and warmth encompassing his entire being.

“I’m here, Rafe,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You heard his stomach gurgle, making you let out a quiet chuckle. “Hungry?”

He nodded into the crook of your shoulder. You laughed once more as he pulled back, a smirk on his face.

“Let me make you something,” you told him. You planted a kiss on his cheek before standing up, placing the blanket over his carefully. “You just sit here and relax, okay?”

“I love when you take care of me, baby,” he murmured as he rested his head on the arm of the couch.

You smiled down at him before going into the kitchen to make him some food. He felt safe with you. You had to admit that your heart soared at the thought that you were the first person he came to after a fight with his dad. The first person he opened up to about his mom, to try in front of.

You didn’t even realize it would always be you. You would always be the first person he would run to, even in a crowded room.

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[bamsara]

I think that one thing people fail to understand is that unsolicited literary criticism coming from an online stranger who is reading with no knowledge of what the authors intended goal is, is not going to be received the same as say: the authors beta reader or friends who know what the authors intended goal and has the sufficient knowledge and input to help the author reach that desired outcome.

"But I'm only trying to be helpful" How do I know you have the knowledge and literary skill for you to be able to actaully do that when we don't know each other and you are essentially a stranger to me? Are you applying this criticism based out of personal biased experience and desire to see the story or characterization be driven in another direction or tweaked, or do you know the author's intentions for the character? If the story is incomplete, are you basing your criticism of a character on the incomplete narration with only partial information available of them or are you building up a report until the story's completion? Did the author provide you with the information needed to make a fully informed criticism?

Have you discussed with the author what their plans are or are you assuming them based off the narration, especially if the narration is proven or implied to be unreliable or missing key points of the plot? Are you unbiased enough to help them reach their desired outcome for the characters and story regardless of your personal feelings towards the characters/antagonists and setting? Can you handle being told your specific input isn't wanted because you're a reader and/or have no written anything relating to their genre or topic? Do you understand and respect that the author's personal experiences might influence their writing and make it different than how you would have done it personally? Do you understand if an author only wants input from a specific demographic relating to their story?

If it's for fanfiction or other hobby media, are you holding a free hobby to a professional standard? Are you trying to give criticism because you feel like the author has produced 'subpar job performance' of their fic? Are you viewing their work as a personal intimate outlet or something that must conform with mass media? Are you applying rules and guidelines when the fic is shared for simple sharing sake? Is your criticism worded appropriately and focused on the parts where the author has requested input on rather than a general dismissal and or disapproval?

Have you put yourself in a place where you assumed you have the input needed for the story to evolve better, or have you asked what the author needs and what they're having trouble with? Can you handle having your criticism rejected if the author decides their story doesn't need the change and not take it as a personal offense against your character? Are you crossing that boundary because you think you are doing the author a favor? Are you trying to be helpful, or do you just want to be?

I think sometimes when people hear authors go 'please don't give me unsolicited writing advice or criticism' they automatically chalk it up to 'this author doesn't want ANY constructive feedback on their stuff at all' and not "i already have trusted individuals who will help me with my writing goals and- hey i don't know you like that, please stop acting so overly familiar with me'

[ijustwannabecool]

Defending Your Honor

Charles Leclerc x Wife!Reader Summary... When online hate targets you, Charles takes matters into his own hands. A fan gets banned. The fandom gets obsessed. And you? You get reminded that Charles will always choose you—loudly, publicly, and intimately.

Trigger Warnings: Online harassment, misogynistic slurs, public confrontation, smut, explicit language

A/N: enjoy reading this little piece. let me know how you like it. dont forget to like, reblog, and comment your thoughts. request are open guys, so feel free to request anything. have a beautiful day :)

--

Charles wasn’t always online—but when he was, it was either to scroll through memes Arthur had sent or to check your Instagram.

Even after a long race weekend—press conferences, media obligations, debriefs—he always made time to find you.

That night, you were curled against him on the couch of your Monaco apartment, fast asleep in one of his red team shirts. The TV hummed softly in the background, showing some home renovation show you’d both forgotten to change.

He should’ve gone to sleep too. But instead, he opened Twitter.

You were trending.

Not in a fun way.

#JusticeforYN

His brows furrowed. Clicking into the tag, his stomach tightened.

A video from the Canadian GP paddock. You and Charles, walking hand-in-hand, laughing at something he’d whispered. Normal. Sweet. Intimate.

Then another clip.

You talking to Arthur, sipping on an iced coffee with a soft smile. And in the background—loud, jarring, hateful voiceovers:

“Charles’s hoe.”

“She’s only famous because she’s fucking him.”

“She thinks she’s special? Please.”

The woman recording was clearly visible. A bright red Ferrari crop top and cowboy hat. Screaming over the barrier.

Charles’s jaw clenched as the screen glowed against his face. You hadn't even flinched. You hadn’t heard any of it over the music and crowd.

But now he had.

Scrolling deeper, he found more: the same account tweeting threats. Saying she’d be at Silverstone. That she was going to “ruin” you. That she’d won a meet and greet through a sponsor.

Not on my fucking watch.

You found him pacing the kitchen the next morning, phone pressed to his ear, wearing nothing but boxers and a deep frown.

"...yes, I want her name off the list. Immediately. No, I don’t care who approved it. It’s a safety concern."

You rubbed your eyes. "Cha? Everything okay?"

His expression softened. He pressed the phone to his chest. "It’s handled, mon coeur."

--

Silverstone.

You were chatting with Lily and Carmen near the espresso machine when Charles stiffened beside you.

“She’s here,” he murmured under his breath.

Your chest tightened. You didn’t have to ask who. You saw the flash of red and country through the corner of your eye.

She was in line for the VIP meet and greet.

Charles excused himself with a kiss to your temple. You watched him cross the room with that quiet, purposeful energy that always made people stop and stare.

“Hi,” he said politely to the girl.

She lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh my god! Charles, I’m such a fan—”

“Can I speak with you? Privately.”

They moved off to the side. You couldn’t hear the conversation, but you saw her face fall. Security flanked them moments later.

Charles returned a few minutes later and wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss behind your ear.

“She won’t bother you again. Or anyone else.”

Later that evening, tucked in your hotel bed, his hand slid beneath your shirt.

“Still thinking about it?” you asked softly.

He kissed your shoulder. “Only how I should’ve found her sooner.”

You turned in his arms, straddling his lap. “You’re not responsible for every idiot with a Twitter account, Cha.”

His hands gripped your thighs. "Non. But I am responsible for making you feel safe."

You leaned forward, brushing your nose against his. "I feel safe."

His lips were slow, reverent, then suddenly needy. His hands pulled your underwear aside and you gasped into his mouth.

“You’re mine,” he whispered into your skin, over and over. “Only mine.”

----

Fan Footage, Later That Week:

A blurry video of Charles sneaking a kiss against your neck before heading into the team garage. Captioned: “he’s obsessed with her and I love that for him.”

A Polaroid posted to your Instagram: your feet resting on Charles’s lap in the motorhome, coffee cups on the table, his hand on your thigh. Caption: quiet moments.

Another clip from a fan outside the paddock: Charles lifting your suitcase out of the car while wearing your name embroidered on the back of his jacket.

----

Twitter Aftermath

@f1gossipgirl: charles leclerc handled that like a KING. his wife is off limits, period.

@slowmoferrari: she didn’t even flinch. queen behavior.

@theylovecarles: charles removing a fan for disrespecting yn, then going out and qualifying P1? the husband energy is CRAZY.

----

That night, as you curled into his chest, Charles whispered, “They’ll never understand what you mean to me.”

You smiled against his collarbone. “They don’t have to.”

He kissed your hair, heart steady now. “I’ll always protect you. Always.”