#or at least they don’t look how I imagined them in my head

[doobean]

SMOKE SIGNALS ─ BAROU SHOUEI

𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Barou seems to have enough of your godawful dating life. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve reached your breaking point, too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚: explicit content ﾉ 18+ ﾉ fem!afab!reader ﾉ friends to lovers ﾉ idiots in love ﾉ roommates AU ﾉ barou centric ﾉ soft love making bc he's a CLB duh ﾉ narration heavy ﾉ kinda mean to reader but it all means well ﾉ first time/virginity loss ﾉ dry humping ﾉ fingering ﾉ missionary ﾉ no beta we die like men wc: 8.5k (longest smut fic i've written thus far whew) a/n: hello friends i am back hehe trying out a new format :3 and also a standalone barou fic because wow i've always paired this guy w nagi sjakhdkajdfh pls give me more hair down barou im begging on my fuckin knees

“Promise me that you won’t get mad,” you peek around the door frame, head poking into Barou’s room.

“The hell did you do this time,” Barou tries to keep his voice casual, red eyes flickering from his computer monitor to your face, then back again. Frankly, he has no idea what you’re possibly referring to, but whenever you’re vague like this, it’s usually not a good thing.

Your brows knit together and you clench the sides of the door. “You gotta promise me, Shouei.”

It has to be something bad, at least in his mind, because you’re trying really hard to look convincing. He can make out the small fidgeting motions by just how hard your knuckles are gripping against the door frame. Barou exhales and pauses, and it’s for a long, rare moment. He’s always the type of guy to say whatever comes to mind, and it’s usually a whole bunch of unfiltered harsh truths and things that others don't want to hear. It’s rare that Barou is actually picking his words carefully and, of course, that catches your attention even more.

“Shouei…”

After a few seconds, Barou manages to narrow the possibilities down to three. 

The first answer being the obvious choice: you’re planning to invite a bunch of your friends over for a last minute party. Your friends are loud, messy, and a bit too friendly towards him despite the numerous times he’s yelled at them. Whatever, he’s used to this by now. Afterall, he’s been living with you at this apartment for well over a year now—four years if he counts the amount of times you’ve crashed at his dorm during his time in high school and university. 

The second outcome might be directly related to the second half: you’re moving out. Could it be a new job opportunity with better pay? Hell, he’s seen you hunched over and obsessively scrolling through multiple job posting sites these past few months that he’s had a feeling that the day will come sooner or later. But it wouldn’t be something that Barou could see himself getting frustrated over.

Which only leads to the third option: you’ve somehow brought home a stray animal and expect him to be okay with it—

“Okay, dude, you’re seriously starting to freak me out.”

Barou snorts and rolls his eyes. “Can’t promise if I don’t know what it is,” and motions at the empty space by the edge of his bed. “Whatever you brought back home, though, it’s a no. You know I have a cat allergy.”

“I wouldn’t bring an animal home without telling you! Plus, that’s such a lie because you had a cat growing up,” you flush brightly and glower. Needless to say, you end up shuffling past the door frame, into full view, and Barou quickly realizes what you’re referring to, and why you’re acting so agitated. 

Breath quickly catches in Barou’s lungs. He averts his gaze, looks back, and clenches his jaw—all in a matter of seconds.

“You’re… dressed up,” he’s pretty sure his face is all contorted, because you’re suddenly acting meek again. 

“Don’t give me that look,” your hands fly up and do a poor job covering your chest and exposed thighs. 

A form fitting dress is the last thing he’d ever imagined you in, then again, you were never the type to actively show off your feminine outfits in front of him—lounging around in nothing but sweats and an oversized tee is a sight he’s more used to—until now. 

“I don’t normally see you wearing stuff like this,” he tries to make the words casual and dismissive, though he’s very aware that he’s just admitted that he pays close attention to you. And, for whatever reason, he has the burning urge to tear himself away, before the tiny voice in his head starts taunting him to go even lower. “Why are you even showing me?”

“Y’know, I had an explanation to give you, but now you sound borderline pissed,” you begin to tip toe back behind the door frame, slowly.

“I always sound borderline pissed,” Barou adds. He’s paused his task at the desk, computer monitor on mute, and the room is exceptionally quiet, except for the low, hesitant creaks from the floor panels. After another moment of studying your face, he exhales and shakes his head. “Let me guess… a date?”

“Oh,” you look momentarily surprised, or maybe that’s just his imagination. You revert back almost immediately though. “How’d you figure it out so quickly?”

If it weren’t for those damn career boosting sites, the second most used apps would be those stupid dating ones. 

Both of your parents work all the time, business partners even, so it’s been mainly the two of you left to your own devices at a young age. Barou didn’t have many friends growing up, outside of you and his sisters, if he can even count them. 

You’re generally introverted by nature, but somehow you seem to attract people who seem to lack common boundaries and have a strange affinity to soccer. Of course, that includes him, your friends, and all the dates you try and bring back—Barou never lets them go past the shoe rack and, thankfully, your dates always seemed too afraid to object. 

Your parents think that it’s a blessing of some sort. That he’s your personal guardian or a shitty guard dog to keep out unwanted men. Something about keeping you safe, another comment about being a good future son-in-law. Conversations with your relatives always tend to steer from topics of career goals, the amount of savings you have, to relationship status, and—ultimately—hey, Shouei’s available, right? Of course, you two don’t have that type of relationship.

Barou is observant, despite what others might think. Observant enough to know that you get uncomfortable when the idea of the two of you being together comes up. You tend to go quiet, then flustered, all before storming off to your own room. Maybe that’s why you spend all your energy into those dating apps—a weird rebellion phase of sorts.

He wants to chastise you, hoping it’ll lead towards you finding another pastime that consists of less unimpressive dicks. Perhaps picking up more books would be well suited for you. Though, upon recent apartment cleanings, he’s stumbled upon plenty of your obscured romance novels. The type of novels that the covers consist of half naked men in cowboy attire with the classic damsel in distress in his arms—Barou doesn’t understand why anyone reads that stuff—piled up all on the living room coffee table.

Scolding you is definitely on top of his to-do list right about now, second to decluttering the fridge. Advising that you can’t blindly trust men on these shitty platforms because god knows what they lie about to get a person’s attention. But he has a feeling that you’ll brush him off, spouting an all too familiar speech that you’ve given him plenty of times before about not being a kid. It’s probably a dumb idea, and he knows that.  

So, instead, he shrugs and ignores the anxious buzzing tugging at the back of his mind. “An educated guess.”

“Oh, hm,” you go quiet at that and he isn’t entirely sure why that makes him nervous. “Do I look weird?”

“What?”

You tilt your head. “You’re staring. Like deep in thought.”

So much for keeping his expression neutral.

“Hmph,” Barou snaps his gaze back to his monitor, observing you from its reflection. 

His awareness of your dress comes in levels of recognition. First is material: even from the distance he’s sitting, he can tell with a quick eye that it’s from some sort of designer brand. The silk fabric clings to your figure as if it was made for you, worshiping every curve and kissing your features perfectly. Second is how you chose to style it: the adjustments made to your chest is purposeful, making your cleavage the centerpiece while your neckline draws attention to it. Third is his own reaction to it: his mind races to the thought of how unfair everything suddenly feels.

“It’s nothing. It’s just—it’s different from the usual, that’s all.” An awkward beat and, “You don’t look weird.”

You lean back on your heels, body now coming back into view, and there’s a small grin. Looking closer, he sees that you’ve got your makeup and nails done, too.

“What? You’re coming at me for relationship advice now?” Barou asks, after a moment. “I’ve got nothing to say.” 

“Your big mouth always has something to say,” you look at him with quirked brows.

He sighs airily. “Who cares, it’s not like you’ll listen,” then rolls his eyes. It’s a bit of an exaggeration, of course, but you’re quite literally one of the most stubborn people he’s ever come across. 

Barou’s familiar with your on and off dating sprees before, and in the beginning he did loosely hand out some advice—even though most of the information came from all those dumb teen magazines he found in his sisters’ rooms. It’s almost like a damn script by how it plays out: obsess over a mediocre guy, go on a date or two, and be extremely disappointed when they don’t live up to your expectations. 

It’s been about three months since your last date, and Barou doesn’t understand how this one might end up any different. 

As if you’ve read his mind, you begin to explain, “We’ve been texting for a few days now. He seems super nice over video call, likes to cook, has a stable job—”

“Hate to break it to you, but that’s the bare minimum.”

“Shouei,” you grumble, “be nice.”

He feels his eyes narrow, lips pressing thin. “You planning to bring him back or something?” Barou can’t seem to mask the edge in his voice.

“If everything goes well, then yeah,” you look relatively proud of yourself. “Which is why I’m asking you to not scare him away—you’re capable of doing that, right?”

“It’s not gonna happen regardless,” the words roll out almost too naturally for both of your comfort, “something always goes wrong, anyways.”

Your lips press thin, weight shifting subtly between your feet. “Don’t be such a dick. I’m bringing a guy back this time.”

Barou doesn’t know what to say. What the fuck can he say? All he knows is that this is making him feel more annoyed than usual. You’ve got to be aware of that, right?

You two have fought before, of course. Nothing ever goes well when it deals with two stubborn individuals. Thankfully, none of the arguments have never escalated past mild inconveniences. Barou can’t seem to remember when’s the last time you’ve actually gotten angry, though. He imagines it being similar to his mom, or sisters, and it’s terrifying because you’re giving him that look—one where you’re a comment away from swatting everything off his desk.

His brows draw together for a moment, eyes squinting, before regaining his ground. He bites back his tongue. “Do what you want.”

“So, I take it that you’re not…?”

Barou scoffs, drumming his fingers against the desk. “Why would I be mad? I’m not in charge of you.”

It’s over a late dinner when Barou finally checks his messages. He sees a few notifications under your name, and he pauses. He doesn’t know why he’s hesitating, there’s a strange churning feeling in his stomach and suddenly he’s lost his appetite. Barou flips his phone down at the table before discarding his utensils, and the look Isagi gives him is a weird one.

“Everything alright there?” 

“I’m not mad.”

Across from him, Isagi leans against the kitchen counter and laughs. “Didn’t say you were,” he picks at his dinner plate with a tilted head. “So, erm, why did you call me over here again? Something about a problem…? You still haven’t gotten to that part.”

“Everything’s fine. I’m fine. Not a damn problem around in this shithole. Fucking perfect around here,” he’s suddenly hot with anger.

Isagi replies to this with a vague handwave. “If I had to guess, someone’s out on a date, again, and you haven’t done much about it.”

Barou shoots him a scathing glare. Thinks of denying for a moment. Doesn’t. “Why bother asking if you already knew?”

Like him, Isagi is oddly extremely aware of everything and everyone. On and off the playing field. Which probably explains why he’s both the coach and fan favorite of the bunch. And more of a reason why Barou is stuck third in line for most sponsorships, right behind Itoshi Rin. Well, whatever, he was never a people’s pleaser to begin with. Though, it is nice having him around to vent to—if you count offering to cook dinner in tense silence while going over sporting logistics—because Isagi Yoichi doesn’t judge. Unless your name is Kaiser, then that’s a whole different story.

A shrug. “Wanted to hear it from you, though that might’ve taken all night.” It’s not a tease.

No matter how rough and rugged Barou looks, he can’t wipe the knowing smile off of Isagi’s features.

“So,” Isagi continues, “how long before you miss out on your chance? A few months? Days? Right now?”

He lowers the volume on the TV and shoves another bite in. “Most likely never. If anything goes down south, that’ll be on me.”

“You’re thinking about this carefully,” Isagi observes, earning him another annoyed look. “It’s a good thing—you’re usually, uh, headstrong and tenacious most of the time.” It’s kinda a compliment, Barou thinks.

“We live together,” he emphasizes, “that’s different.”

“For how long, though? At this point it feels like you’re doing this to yourself.” The corners of Isagi’s lip raise, just a little. “Have you tried seeing if she likes you back?”

Barou scowls and absently fiddles with his hair, still a bit damp from the shower earlier. “What’s with that question? If I knew then I wouldn’t be inviting you over here, dumbass.”

A beat or two. He stares at the wall for a moment and cracks.

“If she liked me back then I doubt she’d be out right now with some random guy,” Barou hates how whiny his voice sounds. He’s not the type to openly complain, especially not with his feelings like this. With Isagi, however, it seems like he brings that side out of everyone. What a weirdo. 

The younger male simply smiles. “Maybe look into her dating history, you might be able to figure out some patterns.”

 “Like I’m some sort of masochist.”

“Well, you’re currently spending your Saturday evening watching football highlights with me, and I think that’s telling by itself.”

Barou doesn’t take the bait, doesn’t bother to say anything to that. He just shoves a spoonful of rice in his mouth and half-distractedly finishes watching a previous games’ highlight on the TV. A quarter way through, and he feels himself starting to drift off.

Isagi’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and that’s a surprising relief to Barou. The younger male lets out a small noise, sets his empty plate in the sink, letting water and soap soak it up for a bit, and fishes his phone out. A few seconds and he starts making his way towards the door, gym bag in hand.

“Rin’s asking to see me for something,” he mindlessly explains while slipping on his shoes. “Guess I’m gonna have to pass on keeping you company tonight, bud.” Isagi says this with a bit of playfulness, but he shoots him a look of sympathy when his hand reaches the knob.

It makes Barou flinch, badly. “Go home, dumbass.”

Once Isagi leaves the premises, he goes back to his own devices. Watching sporting highlights soon went stale, so he opted to watch a drama that you’ve been raving about a while back. 

It has an interesting start. The main lead somehow paraglides her way into a foreign country and the tall, handsome, and stoic—your words, not his—military officer has to take care of her.

He remembers, when you first discovered the drama, the main actor was all you could talk about. Sure, he’s your typical standard silent, tough guy trope, but you were especially smitten over him.

“The way he looks after her, the yearning and the need, it’s just—” you would wave your body back and forth, at a loss for words.

The ending credits snaps him out of the small lull and, out of curiosity, Barou browses through his social apps and thumbs your handle into the search bar. You guys are mutual friends, so this shouldn’t feel weird. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, he really, really doesn’t care much for what other people do in their spare time. Looking at his own account, there’s only two posts and both of them are cringey gym mirror selfies from several years ago. 

So Barou doesn’t really know what to expect when he looks through your recent story highlights.

There’s a picture of a fancy looking latte with an equally fancy looking cheese foam design on top. The guy’s out of the frame, but he can make out an arm with a decked out watch in the corner. Another picture and this time it features a set of flaky chocolate pastries on a square plate with red sauce paired on the side. The third picture makes Barou pause, because it’s a selfie of you and some guy. From appearance alone, the guy is conventionally attractive, but he also has an extremely punchable face. White collared button up shirt, except for the plain fact that it’s wild open and his damn chest hairs are poking out. He’s got his hands around your waist, his stubbled chin pressed extremely close to yours, looking into the camera as if you belonged to him.

He feels his head throbbing, almost full of cotton, and he shuts his phone off, tossing it onto the far end of the couch. Barou doesn’t bother to clean the dishes, at least not yet. He sets his dirty plate aside, letting it soak in the sink alongside with the other bowls. It’s not until after another hot, long shower that Barou starts stress cleaning the apartment. 

And, yeah, vacuuming the living room and running the loud dishwasher at nearly midnight is pretty outrageous and, frankly, dramatic—even for someone like him. By the time he’s done destressing, the air wafts with lemon essential oils and a hint of antiseptic scent. Eventually, after everything, he crawls under the blankets and lies still for a long time before the hint of sleep catches up.

It’s one in the morning when he hears you coming home; heels wobbling against the wooden panels, faint mumbling with a drawl, and sounds of keys hitting the small trinket bowl by the front door. He thinks maybe he should go see you, but stops himself halfway. Barou doesn’t know what he’ll do, how he’ll react, if you come back with smeared lipstick stains on your face, or if you smell like musk— like some stupid, rich casanova’s cologne.

Barou’s just about to pull the covers back over his head when a noise from the living room jolts him wide awake. A loud clatter, body hitting a surface, and he snaps his attention away. And, luckily for him, you just smelled like straight alcohol.

“I should’ve never gone out, I should’ve just…” A beat, followed by a series of painful groans.

You’re definitely tipsy from whatever drink that’s in your system. From what Barou can tell, it was strong. 

“Did you take anything else?” It’s a rhetorical question but he keeps his voice quiet, low, and observes you from the couch.

You’re half slumped over, limbs hanging all over the place and your trench coat is doing an awful job at covering up your promiscuous dress. Tired exhaustion plagues all over. Barou quickly covers you with a spare throw blanket on the side.

He tries to get you off the couch, as carefully as he can, and you nearly jump out of your skin from the proximity. Your eyes are glazed, mouth slightly dry and slack, and some of your makeup has smudged—whether it’s from the date or the excessive tossing and turning, Barou doesn’t really want to know. What he does know is that you’re close, now actively leaning into his touch, and your eyes meet, and he’s yet again faced with that strange fire rushing through him.

He swears under his breath, lifting you into his arms.

There’s a million things he wants to say, majority of them being half-ass insults and I told you so, but none of that seems appropriate. His face is only inches away from yours. Barou quickly realizes that his mouth has gone dry and his tongue feels heavy. His recent reactions towards you have been… confusing, to say the least.

You stir, hand shooting up to hold your head. “Is he gone?”

“Your shitty date?”

“Mhm,” your head droops to the side. “That asshole…”

He scoffs, and makes a mental note to personally beat up the guy who left you while you’re like this. “He’s not here.”

“Fuck, thank god,” your eyes hover on his neck. It catches him off-guard. You swallow, and a strange expression flicks across your face, a bit unreadable and different from your usual wasted self. “You were right, sorry.”

For a moment, he thinks he’s in a dream; that he’s still in university, still checking up on you in-between his classes and labs—out of courtesy from your family, and being on the receiving end whenever you get your hopes up. 

He shuts his eyes and opens them. 

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Barou hears every heavy thump that his heart makes as he carries you to your room. His eyes keep shifting all over your body, whether he means to or not. Most of it is out of concern, your face looks terribly dazed and you’re warm all over, even if you keep insisting that it was just one drink. You’ve never been a heavy drinker, no matter how many times you tried to train your lack of alcohol tolerance. He wonders if he should let you sleep in what you’re currently wearing but, after quick consideration, you’d probably feel extremely uncomfortable the next day.

You press into the warmth of his shoulder, against his neck, then exhale. “I’m a pretty shitty friend, aren’t I?”

“What?” Barou’s eyes flick down the hall, then back to you.

“Ugh,” you make a face. “You know what I mean. How I’m always so tunnel vision when it comes to shit like this…”

“Then just stop,” he feels his face tightening ever so slightly, the unfiltered words unclogging. “Everytime this happens. Why bother going through with it?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” You laugh a little, and it’s half bitterness, half joy—something a little broken and somehow Barou immediately understands.

He watches, almost morbidly, the way your eyes subtly linger on parts of his body for a moment, before sighing. A hesitant, unspoken conversation stuck in your throat, and all at once, Barou wants to scream. 

But he doesn’t.

He feels flames crawling up the back of his neck when you snuggle closer into his arms. Thankfully, before he can further combust, he’s pushing his way into your dimmed bedroom. 

Barou takes a careful glance around in the dark, noting the familiar scent of you, the numerous prints that hang from the eggshell colored walls, and the small pile of clothes on your desk chair. He’s only been in your room once before, but that was just to help you settle in, so he’s never really paid attention to your surroundings. Now, though, as he lays you on top of the mattress, he notices everything in this room just screams who you are, and he realizes that maybe he should’ve said his piece earlier to avoid all of this together.

The idea fizzles out when Barou feels you tugging loosely on his wrist before letting it fall against the mattress.

“Shouei,” you call out, reaching for his hand again.

He absolutely hates the way he instantly stops and holds you, cherishing the warmth of your skin. Your fingers shakily curl around his, and Barou can’t help but squeeze back. His heart is thundering against his chest, and he’s making it painfully obvious that his breathing is erratic. 

After a moment, he clears his throat. “What are you doing?” 

His blood has rushed so high to his head that it’s the only thing he can hear, clogging up in his veins and leaving him feeling like he has to cling onto you for dear life. Barou isn’t quite sure what’s happening here, still disbelieving at the way you’re batting your eyes at him, eyes brimming with tears and lips puckered.

“Stay with me, please,” you mumble.

Barou lets out an airy breath, and hears himself saying your name. He’s so confused by all the fucking emotions hitting him right now, and it doesn’t help the fact that his voice gets so soft and tender when he calls out for you. His hand twitches against yours.

This isn’t fair, this isn’t fair, this isn’t—

“You’re drunk,” he finally manages to respond.

His crimson eyes trace your face in the dark, and makes out the shine of wetness on your lips when they part. You lift your eyes, and they instantly hook him in. He resists the urge to lean forward. And, just as instantly, he wants to kneel down, close his eyes, and exist anywhere but this moment.

“I’m not,” you continue and tug him closer, forcing him to sit on the mattress. Your words come out more as hot breath. He definitely smells it but, if he’s being honest with himself, you’re usually not this desperate.

Needless to say, it’s still a concerning fact. “You’re not yourself.”

You squeeze harder, brows furrowed. “I know what I’m doing and what I want.”

Barou tears away from your mouth and glances back into your eyes, studying them closely. You’re still clamped onto his hand, and he knows you’re burning on edge, too. Undoubtedly, he’s half-mast in his pants, and he’s very aware of that, as you slowly rise up, eyeing him with an expression that can only be described as hunger. 

“We’ll talk in the morning, idiot.”

“What’s your deal?”

I should be the one asking that. 

Barou stares at you for a long moment, The silence is heavy, suffocating. The bed shifts, and in that second, that quiet desperate hope, becomes even more evident. His grip tightens, just a little, and there’s that building headache pulsing through his temple. He really shouldn’t be here, entertaining whatever this is. What he should be doing is sleeping, it’s midnight and, fuck, he has to go to practice tomorrow, but you…

“Are you even listening to me?”

“I am,” his voice is rough when he answers, words dripping with heavy caution. “Even if you aren’t wasted, you’re acting like a real piece of work, right now. None of this shit is funny.”

“I’m not trying to be—I’m being serious,” you reply, but your lips are trembling.

Barou’s stomach lurches and he swallows back a groan, not the pleasure kind. “What do you want me to do?”

Suddenly, you shift restlessly, as if taken aback. “Stay by my side.”

“I know that,” he breathes in, and out. “I asked if there’s anything you want me to do?”

The moonlight creeps past your curtains and coats you in various shades of silver. It’s then, Barou realizes, that he's afraid of what your answer might be. He’s taken care of you hundreds of times before, it’s become second nature for him to look after you, but now this feels foreign—almost daunting when you’re looking just as scared. 

But, scared as you are, you lean forward, steadying your palms onto his broad shoulders. It burns his skin at contact, but he steels himself, watching your lips part slowly. Focusing—absolutely fucking focusing—on the way that they move and the damn syllables that come right after.

He feels like dying when the words finally register.

“Kiss me.”

Barou stills, pressing a palm against the mattress and clenches his jaw, running his tongue hard against his teeth. He opens his mouth to reply—and immediately snaps it shut. It’s when you make a small dip in the bed that he recovers, gears running over a hundred miles an hour in his mind. “You want that?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” your eyes wander all over his face and the intensity almost burns his skin. “It’s embarrassing enough that I’m doing it like this…”

Barou stares in awe. His throat feels tight and his chest clenches uncomfortably. “Doing what?”

A frown erupts on your face and you’re visibly frustrated, more flustered. “Why are you choosing tonight to be a dense prick? Do you need me to spell it out for you? I’m confessing to you. I like you—god, this is so fucking stupid—I’ve liked you since grade school, throughout college, and now! The dates, the guys, none of them work out because they’re not you. Do you know how many times a guy is saying some shit and I’m sitting there thinking ‘Shouei wouldn’t say that’ or when I’m trying to find a guy that looks kinda like you, and even that’s fucking impossible—that’s how much you’re on my mind!”

Your confession—honesty—hangs in the air and Barou nearly chokes on it. You make a low, undignified sound, and press your back against the headboard, looking absolutely anywhere but him. Barou, on the other hand, hears nothing but pounding in his eardrums. He’s not sure if that’s his heartbeat, or yours. There’s a feeling of tight strings tugging at his chest again, a painful ache being left behind. After a moment, the bed creaks. 

“Okay,” he breathes, and swallows around that awful lump in his throat.

“Okay?” your voice cracks embarrassingly. “I pour out my feelings and all you say is ‘okay’? This is worse than a rejection. Yoichi said the worst thing you could say is ‘no’ and—”

“Wait, that idiot knows about this?”

 “That’s what you’re focused on? Ugh, forget it, I’ve said too much already!”

“Stop,” Barou’s face contorts into a heavy scowl, taking slight offense. “God, sometimes you ramble on so much that it’s hard to take everything at face value.” 

He hesitantly presses a palm to your cheek and holds it there, watching your sudden stiff reaction. He shudders, slowly, before dusting the palm across your cheek, ears, hair, and settles it against the back of your head. He’s aware of his breathing, shaky and full of nerves. Barou moves closer until he can feel your breath fanning over his lips. 

Before he can say anything else, you lean up and press your lips softly against his. They’re surprisingly soft, he realizes. There’s no heat to it, just a plush press of warmth, a little bit of pressure, and you’re silently swearing under your breath when you pull back. 

“Oh god, was that dumb? Am I being stupid right now or what?” Your hands fly up, cradling your face. A muffled scream, then a groan. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what I was thinking! You—me, we were—argh!” Your body retracts back, knee pressing up against your chest as you begin to lean away from him, almost in disgust with yourself.

Barou begins to feel a strange surge in his stomach and gnaws the insides of his cheek. The unusual warmth comes back and, this time, it settles between his legs, but there’s more to that. It was a small, soft kiss—barely long enough to be classified as one. He watches you fidget more before snapping.

“Do you know how to fucking relax?” Barou adjusts his grip behind your head, tangles his fingers in your hair, and drags you back in for another.

This time, it’s lasting, a more proper kiss, and he feels you getting lost in it. Your hands fumble their way back onto his body, finding ground on his thighs and leaning forward into the heat. Barou makes sure that his grip in your hair isn’t too tight, but warm and full of affection, and it makes you moan quietly, mouth parting and allowing his tongue to swipe over your lips.

Hardly any words are exchanged while he kisses you, slowly becoming more frenzied, drowning in the wet heat, tongues curling and hands roaming. There’s a steady, painful throbbing eagerness between Barou’s legs, and he’s positive that you can feel it. 

It’s overwhelmingly awkward and stupid, how worked up you both are from just a bit of kissing; from taking turns ghosting each other’s jaws and necks, to hands blindly groping and snaking under clothing to get a squeeze at bare skin. You lean up again, lips tracing the contours of his jaw, and shift a hand down, curling your fingers through his sweats and around his length. A light, breathy noise slips out of him and he feels you pulling away, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen from the heavy makeout session.

“I, um, take it that you like me back…?” You ask quietly, tugging Barou out of his trance. 

He blinks, feeling the tips of his ears flushing with warmth. “You really know how to ruin the mood, don’t you?”

“I-I just need confirmation, stupid!”

“Maybe,” Barou confesses, his voice wavers just a little as he speaks. His body shifts with you in his arms, palms cupping both sides of your face. When you refuse to meet his eyes, he huffs. “Look at me. I wouldn’t do this to just anyone if I didn’t like them.”

You make a low, unpleasant noise. “So, you’ve done this with others? I don’t want to think about that.”

Barou’s chest tangles over itself again and, for a moment, being with you feels just a little less daunting. His posture stiffens, then goes lax in a quick second. He could honestly ask you the same thing, whether or not some of the men you’ve matched with have showered you in affection like this but, given your behavior, it seems like you’ve been hesitant and selective. If Barou’s being honest, he’s glad it’s that way. 

“Then we don’t have to,” he surges forward, forcing his head down to catch your gaze before capturing your lips in surprise once more.

Eventually, he ends up hovering over you. You’re lying on the mattress, head semi-propped up against the pillows with half of his body weight on top of you—not too heavy, but not too comfortable. Barou’s vaguely aware of what this might lead to, with the look you’re giving him—with the look he’s giving you. He should really go to bed, or else he’s going to wake up with a migraine and a sore neck. But your cheek is nuzzled against his palm, he’s got his other hand running through your hair, soft and lazy, and he’s finding himself grinding against your lower half almost pathetically.

It’s impossible to put his thoughts into coherent sounds when your fingers work at his pants and manage to free his erection, springing it heavily against his stomach. Barou’s mind short-circuits, body jerking in reaction, with the slow, experimental pump of your fist around his aching cock. The look you’re currently giving him is mesmerizing, and it makes him feel as if he’s the most powerful person in the world.

He’s not sure how far you’re willing to go, especially since this feels like your first for everything. You adjust your hand around his length and let it run for a few more strokes. It feels foreign and electric at the same time, softer than his own hands that’s for sure. After you brush your thumb over his tip, smearing the pre, Barou immediately tries shielding himself from you, face buried in his shoulder, and swallows back a rumbling moan.

You pause, hand loosely wrapped around his base, frowning. “Is it bad? I’ll stop if…”

“No,” Barou clasps a hand over yours, squeezes, and sets a slow, firm pace. He shudders again when you adjust your position, hot breath fanning over his tip. “You don’t have to go down—”

“I want to,” you look at him with pleading eyes. “I want to make you feel good, Shouei.”

His mind goes through a whirlwind of possibilities, debating the urge to either run or dominate. Barou closes his eyes, breathing deeply in order to steady himself before he fully loses it. His cock twitches and your hand is clinging around him like a mold.

“Please,” you moan, a plea that’s both an invitation and a surrender, and it’s that damn voice that cuts through his brain fog.

You make a small noise of confusion when he pulls you back, and settles you flat against the mattress. Disappointment flicks across your face but disappears as quickly as it came when his palms make contact with your legs. He carefully watches you squirm, thighs pressing together, when he starts hiking up the dress past your waist and eventually off your body.

Barou sucks in his teeth, eyes drinking in your shy figure underneath him as he stares at your heaving chest, stomach, and plump thighs. He swears under his breath, hesitating for just a moment, before slipping a hand lower, past the barrier of your panties. 

A strangled moan catches in his throat as he discovers the slick heat from your arousal, thick fingers pressing gently at the entrance. Your face casts a wild, bewildered look and you throw your head back, hand covering the lower half of your face.

“D-Don’t tease me…”

Barou clicks against his teeth. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Almost entranced, he stares at your slick center, folds glistensing and your clit practically pulsing with need. His fingers tremble, exploring with hesitance born from innocence. The warmth between your thighs is new, intoxicating, and downright terrifying. With each careful, slow, tentative touch, the sound of his name spilling from your lips is like a sacred plea and it ignites a spark within him.

He can’t wait any longer. 

Barou groans as he rubs his padded fingers in between your dewy folds and slides in, a tight and perfect fit that draws a gasp from both parties. Your walls flutter around him almost instantaneously, paired by high pitched mews rolling off your tongue. He watches your knuckles fist the sheets as he starts his slow, stretching movements.

Your body squirms under his onslaught, thighs threatening to press closer from the sensitivity but he settles a firm grip on one of them. The sight of you under him, vulnerable and consuming, with hot tears springing out of the corners of your eyes, drives him over the edge. His fingers pick up speed inside, soon turning relentless, scissoring your gummy walls at a pace that you struggle to keep your volume low. Barou watches you throw a hand over your mouth when his thumb starts rolling over your clit in slow but purposeful circles. The scent of sex drenches him, listening to you mew and beg, his heavy cock leaking all over your thigh when you begin to raise your hips.

“Shouei,” you moan out, skin glistening and wet, flushed from the heat. Your fingers grasp sloppily against his biceps, sending shivers down his arms. “I want to take care of you, too.”

He spreads your legs even further out, applying more pressure to your core. Seeing the sight of you buckling your hips, grinding so shamelessly down on his fingers, brings him more pleasure than it should. Hearing the sighs and whines you babble out tells him everything he needs to know.

Barou raises his lips to your temple as he picks up the pace, groaning from the lewd sounds below. “Finish for me first, I don’t like owing favors,” he starts kissing your throat, tongue tracing over your sweet spots as your walls start fluttering around his digits.

Your hands land on his biceps, clutching his body as close to yours as possible while you calm down from the rush, unable to stop the way you're wailing his name right into his ear. It isn’t until Barou releases his fingers that he realizes that his sweats are now soaked from your orgasm.

“I'm sorry...” You sharply turn your head away, pleasure quickly replaced by embarrassment.

Barou carefully brushes the hair out of your eyes and captures your lips in a sweet and tentative kiss. “Was gonna get rid of them anyway.”

"Oh," you breathe out, unable to form a more suitable response.

He gets up from the mattress and manages to free himself from the remainder of his clothes. Normally, he would toss them in a hamper, but tonight he’s kicking them to the side. Mild anxiousness and anticipation claws at his throat when he formally settles between your legs and, this time, your hands are back to poorly covering up your bare, flushed out body.

Barou furrows his brows and gently pulls them aside, already reading your thoughts. “Stop, you don’t look weird.”

“But—”

He bends down, hands kneading on the flesh of your breasts while his mouth latches onto the side of your neck. You struggle to keep your voice down and squirm under his touch, again. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. “Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

It’s like he can almost see all the blood rushing towards your head when he pulls back. You’re nodding, shaking and quivering, and he can practically hear your heartbeat over his own.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” Barou’s amazed that he’s able to keep it together, that his voice is even, because your fingers are slowly guiding his cock towards your entrance.

He’s had a girlfriend in the past, though the intimacy has never gone past making out. He has a faint idea of how it should feel and what he should do, but all that thought gets thrown out when his tip presses softly against your wet folds. Everything starts to feel unbearingly hot and tight.

“I trust you,” you sharply inhale when the first few inches slide into the soft, heated space, and spread your legs wider. You shift against the mattress, a hand splaying on his chest while the other is fisting the sheets. “I trust you more than I trust myself, Shouei.”

He hisses in response to that, adjusting his length, and cranes his head back so he can avoid releasing everything right then and there. You bite back a loud moan as soon as he bottoms you out, your nails digging and leaving half crescent marks into his chest at the stretch. 

“Shit—you’re so warm,” he steadies his breathing, and reaches out a hand, caressing your flushed cheeks. He carefully dives in to kiss your lips and then your throat, biting until he nearly breaks skin.

You shudder beneath him, responding with a noise that’s in between a moan and a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”

Barou ignores your taunting and scrapes his teeth along the ridge of your throat until he finds your earlobe, basking in the way you’re squeezing around him. “How you do want me to fuck you?”

Silence takes over as your answer, eyes widening at his response. A small thrust and he watches you wince from the stretch. Barou slows down his movements, pulling all the way out before sliding back into the hilt. Shocks of pleasure surges through his veins, and his throat rumbles with every tight pulse your velvety walls offer him, holding your hips steady as he builds up the rhythm. 

Your moans and gasps send shivers down his whole body, arching your back as he finds the furthest point. Your grip on his chest tightens, fingers grasping, nails breaking the skin. Though, the pain is nothing compared to the binding pleasure Barou feels being buried deep around your enveloping, addicting warmth. His brain melts into a puddle, every nerve in his system heightens to a new level as you’re tightening around him.

You raise your hips higher, opening yourself and deepening the angle that he can thrust his way through. Barou’s browline pools in a thin veil of sweat as he works his way through it all, staring down at you in a silent, consumed gaze. He presses his hips forward and manages to find the spot that makes you violent and wild. The sound of his name shatters the air and you throw your head back, bliss screeching through both of your veins.

"Shouei, it’s too much," you cry out.

Barou sucks in his teeth, fingers pressing hard into your flesh. “Just breathe, you’re okay.” 

He watches your eyes widen with a shaky nod. Your chest rises and falls, eyes frantically darting from the area between your legs up to his face in an attempt to calm yourself.

“I-I know, I know,” you respond, choked out and breathless.

Any consideration for neighboring guests in the complexes are abandoned as Barou pumps into you, his core tightening as every thrust brings him closer. Your walls and arousal coat around his cock with eagerness, as if afraid to let him go.

At the sight of you, teary-eyed and a babbling mess, Barou leans down and his mouth captures yours in another searing kiss that mutes your sounds. Your fingers shoot up, tangling in the mess of his long, black locks, pulling him closer until there’s no space left—until he feels nothing but wet skin and sheer desperation.

He buries his face in your neck, his hot breaths and pants tickling your skin as he senses the incoming orgasm. Barou shuts his eyes and lets his concentration break, mind fully focusing on the feeling of you swallowing him as he works his cock deep inside of you as he could go. All he can think about is how warm and tight everything feels, the sounds you’re making, how much he loves hearing you, and how long he’s been waiting for this moment. Now, with your cries of passion filling the room, back arched in a way he can't even fully describe, it’s more than he can handle, more than he can believe.

Your walls clench violently around him, one hand flying up and tugging at his hair so hard that it stings. But he’ll take it, Barou will endure all the pain and hunger from you knowing you’re cumming hard on his cock. He lets the pain ebb away, turning into waves of ecstasy. Your name falls from his lips and fills the dark room.

Barou bites back a moan and chews his lower lip, head nuzzled deep into your shoulder blade and hips stuttering as his vision goes blurry. Pleasure overtakes him, both immense pressure and the immediate release of it exploding in his skull, and he ends up gasping for air, legs jerking and body trembling as he releases inside of you.

He holds you tightly, rocking your body and panting against your warm skin as both of you try to catch your individual breaths as the aftershocks settle through. Everything stills, all that’s left are the low hums of the air conditioner and your frantic heartbeats. Barou isn’t sure how much time has passed when he finally feels his length go limp. Gently, he slips out and catches the way you moan in disapproval at the feeling of sudden emptiness. 

He raises his head and meets your eyes, finding yours wet and half-lidded, completely fucked over. Lifting a thumb to wipe away the threatening tear, he rolls off and settles upright by the edge of the bed. The darkness strains his eyes, but he manages to find what he’s looking for. A few moments later and he hands you a few tissues from the bedside table and cranes his body.

“Are you okay?” Barou’s cautious of the volume of his voice, as if raising it an octave higher would break you even further.

Your breath hitches, wincing and moving meticulously to avoid spilling out all the contents on the sheets. “I think I am?”

“You sound unsure.”

“Well,” you prop up next to him, body curling tight together like a coil, head nudging against his bare shoulder. “We just had sex.” 

The word almost slaps him in the face, making him sit up even straighter.

“We… did,” he said, slowly, and now feeling a certain way that he isn’t sure how to describe. Comfortable isn’t the right word, but it’s not exactly uneasy either. But that’s another step to think about, one that he probably won’t take today. He pauses for a moment, tongue heavy in his mouth, but pushes through and ignores the fretting in the back of his mind. “Do… Do you regret it?”

“No,” and you’re quick with it, despite avoiding eye contact. Instead, you curl your fingers around his bicep and squeeze hard. After a pregnant pause, you throw back the question. “How ‘bout you?”

“I don’t,” Barou finds himself equally as responsive, and he’s sure about a lot of things. 

He’s sure he’s going to wake up tired and sore, but definitely is still going to out perform his other teammates tomorrow. He’s sure that one day he’ll surpass Isagi. And he’s sure that he wants to be here, with you. You two are best friends and… what, girlfriend and boyfriend now? It’s a crazy thought, but it has his heart fluttering like some dumb teenage romcom. 

You simply nod, humming in deep thought, before reaching over and pulling him in for another kiss, and this time, it’s soft and delicate. Fragile, slow, and it has Barou clenching around the edge of the mattress. You’re both making quiet sounds, and he wants to keep going, but he can’t quite subdue that little bubbling jolt of fear in his head. And, because you’re stupidly observant at the strangest times, you pull back.

“We should… probably talk about this, right?”

“We should,” he agrees but, as soon as he glances at the time, exhaustion hits him like a freight train. Barou shudders and he allows gravity to take over, collapsing back onto the cold, wet mattress.

“Hey,” you shake him, enough to rouse some of the tiredness away. “Don’t crash here tonight, everything’s covered in sweat.”

He scoffs and turns over, relishing in the mild comfort. “You’re starting to sound exactly like me.”

“C’mon, Shouei,” he can’t exactly see you from this angle, but he imagines a big pout plastered over your face. “I mean it, let’s sleep in your room. This is like a sex bed…”

“Don’t call it that,” Barou cringes. 

“I mean, technically it is. Y’know, couples get twin beds in hotel rooms all the time for that purpose and—”

“If we move to my room, will you promise me that you’ll be quiet and get some sleep?” Barou can slowly feel bags forming under his eyes.

Your weight shifts above him and you make a small noise of approval. “Sure, but no promises.”

© 2023 DOOBEAN. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

#doobean writes #bllk #blue lock #bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock x female reader #bllk x female reader #barou shoei smut #barou shoei x reader #barou shouei #barou smut #barou x reader

[hazelsmirrorball]

Lacy | Oscar Piastri x Logan Sargent x Fem! Reader

summary: oscar piastri has everything logan sargent could ever wish for but he would trade everything just for y/n to seem him the way he sees her

faceclaim: olivia rodrigo

pairings: oscar piastri x gf!singer!reader, logansargent x friend!singer!reader

a/n: can’t even tell you what is this, but it’s something different that’s for sure. Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language

Logan Sargents eyes wandered all over Oscar Piastri’s apartment. His heart beats to the rhythm of the clock near him. He could feel sweat dripping from his forehead as he waited for Oscar to enter the living room. For a guy that almost exploded his phone with messages for them to hang out; he’s taking a lot of time to pay him attention.

At first he didn’t want to come, but part of him felt guilty if he denied his best friend’s invitation. He couldn’t say he was busy because the McLaren driver could read right through him. He nervously played with his hands trying to think of something, anything but the thought of Oscar’s longterm girlfriend. He felt bad, he couldn’t lie to himself and deny what was going through his head.

But as Logan’s eyes continuously scanned his around his apartment trying to distract himself it was as he saw the ghost of her leaning towards him. Every bit and piece had, y/n’s touch, everything traced back to her.

Her sweet perfume lingered on the couch cushions. While an empty can of her favorite drink sat on the table in front of him. As he kept looking his eyes rested on the small table next to him, the red cherry lipstick that covered her beautiful lips stared back at him as he felt his stomach turn. Pieces of her used handmade bows that had little strands of her hair. Logan let a deep sigh imagining all the times Y/n would come in the paddock with her sweet cherry lips and her beautiful hair flowing in the wind.

Logan’s hand slowly reached for the table in front of him, trying to snap himself out of the trance he was being suck into. How can a thing so sweet ruin all his morals, all his beliefs. He felt guilty, guilty for wanting the one thing that made Oscar Piastri happy.

But why couldn’t he have her? Oscar wasn’t a bad person towards Logan, well at least not directly. Oscar Piastri had everything Logan Sargent ever wanted. A perfect F1 career, a perfect team, a perfect life and the perfect girl. Oscar was smart, attractive and funny, everything opposite from Logan. At least in his eyes. Why couldn’t Logan have this one thing? What did Oscar have that Logan didn’t? He swore he had potential, he just needed time for people to see it. Oscar had the only thing Logan Sargent really wanted, Y/n.

“Sorry, mate! I was busy helping Y/n hang a painting in her room. But my attention is one hundred percent on you now” Oscar said sitting down next to Logan. He slowly scanned Oscar body noticing the familiar lipstick stain adorned on his lips.

As much as Logan wanted to avoid the facts. He found himself stumbling upon the couple everywhere he would go. Photos of them in the paddock, group hangouts, hell even fans would tagged him in their couple pictures. It drove him insane, he tried to rationalize, to call himself. But every single thing Oscar did was poison for Logan, he couldn’t take it anymore. It was like Oscar deep down knew about Logan’s feelings towards her and was out to get him. He wanted to make him suffer, there wasn’t any other reason. Oscar was to get Logan, that was a constant thought in his head. Maybe he was jealous or maybe he idolized Oscar in a way no one else could.

“Oh, it’s no problem really. Mentioning Y/n I don’t know if you remember the text I sent you a few weeks ago” Logan said placing his notebook in the table in front of Oscar and him. Oscar looked at the notebook and nodded

“Yeah! I showed y/n the thing you wrote and she was over the moon! she enjoyed it a lot, she was in a complete writers block so that helped her a lot with writing that new ep she wanted to do. So thank you so much logan, i owe you one big time” Oscar said slightly punching logan shoulder as he forced a smile letting out a chuckle with him.

“that’s what friends are for. But she decided to make the poem into a song? i didn’t think it was that good” Logan responded raising an eyebrow towards Oscar. He simply shook his head and turned towards him.

“I don’t know where or how you wrote that poem. But i trust y/n’s opinion, that song is going to be a hit!” Oscar responded in attempt to shake Logan insecurities. He quietly nodded, feeling a real smile starting to creep up.

“what’s the name of the song?” Logan managed to slip out

“Lacy”

Oh, Logan Sargent Loathed the dazzling starlet that was Oscar Piastri and even though he didn’t have y/n. he would do anything to have Y/n bows around his wrist and her lipstains on places only the two of them would know, even if he had to play the long run.

y/nnnn via instagram!

liked by logansargent, oscarpiastri and 2,368,902 others

y/nnnn so excited for my new single that’s coming out real soon!!! thank you so much to one of my favorite drivers @logansargent that gave me the main inspo to write this song, love you so so much and i wish you guys love this so as much as i do x.

view all comments

landonorris for a moment i forgot you were a singer, i thought you were just oscar’s annoying gf

-> y/nnnn shut up

user101 mother is back!!!!

user23 thank you logan for being y/n’s inspiration

user1893 team logan!!!!!!

user78 team oscar!!!

oscarpiastri so talented! i love you so so much

logansargent you are wonderful y/n!! i’m always proud of you and ur music

#imagines #imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar pastry #oscar pastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #mclaren #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargent fluff #loscar #lacy #oscar pastri smau #f1 smau #smau #f1 social media au #f1 x female reader #f1 fic #f1 x y/n #oscar piastri x logan sargeant

[callsign-rogueone]

liam's lesson

bf! Xaden x reader x Liam Xaden decides to give Liam a lesson in pleasing a woman, but not just any woman; you, his girlfriend, who Liam's had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong? words: 5.3k (now officially my longest fic ever!) 🏷: NSFW, afab reader who is referred to with she/her prns and as a "girl", established relationship with Xaden, Liam has a puppy crush on you (we love pathetic, lovesick Liam in this house!), nothing between the boys, they're both just focused on you, fucking someone other than your partner (not cheating, as everyone involved is consenting) while said partner watches, maybe you're a little bit in love with Liam (aren't we all?) Xaden is in charge here, teaching Liam how to make you cum. oral, fingering, and penetrative sex (all f recieving), unprotected sex, very brief misuse of Xaden's shadows, Xaden is the king of Tyrrendor but Liam is the king of aftercare. I think that's everything. once again, proofread with a migraine so be nice. okay byeee

Admittedly, Liam had been a little nervous when Xaden had pulled him aside at dinner and told him to come over to his room around ten to talk — what secret, urgent revolution stuff did they need to discuss? Was something wrong back home? Surely he wouldn’t have waited if that was the case. 

He knocks hesitantly, and the door unlocks for him — part of Xaden’s magic that Liam still isn’t used to. A lot has changed about his older brother in the two years they’ve been apart. 

He starts to ask why Xaden wanted to see him at this hour, but then he catches a flash of pale blue in his periphery, his head turning toward the other side of the room, where he sees you stretched out on Xaden’s bed in your pajamas — which don’t leave much to the imagination. 

He stops mid-sentence and whirls around, averting his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“Did you forget about the little conversation we had last week?” Xaden asks, amused.

It takes Liam a minute to realize what the older boy is referring to. “You were serious?”

He catches a glimpse of the lace-clad curve of your hip in the mirror in front of him, shutting his eyes tightly and willing himself not to get hard — not over his brother’s girlfriend. That’s definitely crossing a line.

“Of course I was serious,” Xaden answers.

“And you’re… you’re okay with this?” he asks you, still not convinced he isn’t dreaming.

“You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” you answer.

He still looks hesitant. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Liam nervous, but his normal confident and happy demeanor is nowhere to be seen. It hurts, somehow. 

“Hey,” you soothe, sitting up straight, “if you don’t want to do this, that’s okay. We’ll never speak of it again.”

“No,” he answers, finally looking at you in the mirror, swallowing hard, “I do want to.”

It might ruin him forever, but he really does want this. He’s wanted something with you for ages, and if he can’t have the real thing — his lips on yours and his hands on your body, pleasing and worshiping you the way you deserve — he might as well watch Xaden do it instead.

“Okay, then.”

Xaden wastes no time pulling you into a deep kiss that you melt into almost instantly — so his dominance and control extends into the bedroom, too. That should have been obvious.

He pulls back after what feels like ages for Liam but mere seconds for you, and you whine softly, needing more.

“Hear that? That’s the sound you’re looking for. Those little whimpers, and the squirming. You want to get her nice and needy first.”

Liam nods, still just watching, unsure what his role will be in all of this. He tries to ignore the ache of his cock, tries not to think about it, but the sight of you in those tiny silk pajamas, if you could call them that, is impossible to look away from, and impossible not to get turned on by. He’ll definitely need to sort himself out after this is over, but at least it’ll fill the spank bank forever — he’s never going to forget this.

“Go ahead,” Xaden prods, and Liam feels like he might faint — this is a hands-on lesson? He’s supposed to touch you, not just watch?

You pat the space next to you on the bed, motioning for him to take a seat.

He kicks off his boots hastily, padding across the floor and stopping in front of you.

You uncross your legs, letting them dangle off the edge of the bed, your knees only an inch or two from his thighs now. “Hi, Li.”

Gods, the way you say his name so sweetly, shortening the four letter word into two, the way you’re gazing at him so sweetly, and the sight of you, your usual rider’s leather stripped away, with soft pastel silk in its place that covers less than half of what your uniform does... You even smell sweet, sugary and floral, a mix of all the pretty products you’d used in the shower you’d taken prior to this little engagement. He can tell how smooth and soft your skin must be even without touching it. 

“Hi,” he manages, blinking at you. 

There’s a few seconds of awkwardness before you take the reins, bringing a hand up to cradle his jaw and guide him to where you want him, his lips just an inch away from yours — letting him be the one to close the gap.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you say in a gentle whisper, setting your hand back down. 

You’re too sweet, too kind and caring. This is a mistake, a terrible one, that he’ll likely never recover from, but he’ll regret it forever if he walks out on you right now; this will likely be the only opportunity he’ll ever have to touch you like this.

He leans forward, nudging his nose against yours gently before he goes in for a kiss, thankful that he’d brushed his teeth in the last hour. You taste sweet and minty, your lips slippery with whatever salve you use to keep them that soft. 

You continue guiding him through it, settling one of his hands on your waist and the other on the small of your back, how Xaden had held you, deepening the kiss, introducing your tongue a bit, starting him off slowly. 

He steps forward, nudging your legs apart with one of his so he can be even closer to you.

There’s that cute, needy sound that he’d been instructed to look for. Boldened, he holds you a little tighter, pulling you toward him the way he’d seen Xaden do. You seem to like it, tangling a hand in the soft black fabric of his tunic and tugging him closer, whining softly.

He finally pulls away, breathless, just looking into your eyes for a moment, memorizing them. He’s never been this close to you before, never noticed the little streaks and flecks of different colors within your irises... 

“Good,” a deep voice assesses. 

He startles, stepping back as he remembers that Xaden is still leaning against the armoire five feet away — after all, this is his room, his bed, and his girlfriend.

You’d almost forgotten, too.

“Keep kissing her, and grope her a little,” Xaden says candidly. “She likes being handled.”

Xaden’s wording gives him pause. Her, She. Not girls in general, but you. He’s teaching Liam how to please you. He shakes the thought from his head, reminding himself that this is a one-time thing.

You’re giving him that soft, worried look again. He steps forward, putting his hands back on your waist and pulling you into another deep kiss. You squeak in surprise as his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently over the slippery silk. 

He chuckles, a warm, rumbling sound that you’ll never grow tired of hearing, his lips trailing over your jaw down to your neck. 

Xaden likes to leave his mark on you, sucking at your skin hard enough to leave purple bruises the next day, scraping over your pulse with his teeth… but Liam just wants to savor you, to press gentle kisses to every inch of you, to nuzzle his nose into your neck and breathe you in.

You relax against him, content to let him continue kneading at your hips and waist, rubbing his hands over the smooth skin and massaging out any tension left over from the long day of classes and flight training.

He’s worked his way down your neck to your collarbones and chest, his lips brushing the neckline of your nightshirt. He hesitates there for a moment, unsure how to proceed, but Xaden is quick to give more directions.

“Arms up, honey.”

You comply readily, Liam helping lift your shirt over your head. He folds it into neat quarters before he sets it aside on Xaden’s desk, treating the silky fabric as carefully as he does its owner.

You give him a nod of permission, and he slides his hands up your ribs to your chest, admiring the weight of the soft flesh in his hands for a moment, squeezing gently.

“And these cute little nipples,” Xaden coos, curling a wisp of shadow over them. You whine softly at the cold sensation, squirming a bit, but he doesn’t seem to care, still speaking to Liam. “Play with them. Rub your fingers on them, pinch a little bit, suck on them… But be gentle. She’s sensitive.”

He starts off slow, brushing his thumbs over them gently while he returns his lips to your collarbones, pressing little kisses over the soft skin. And then he moves down, down… 

You sigh happily at the feeling of Liam’s tongue laving over your nipple in slow, gentle licks, continuing to tease the other with his fingers. He wraps his lips around it, suckling gently, and you tangle a hand in his hair, cradling the back of his head and keeping him close. 

“That’s a good sign, too,” Xaden instructs. “Keep going.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice — he’s intent on taking his sweet time with you, licking and sucking and teasing the sensitive little buds. He could do this for hours, just to hear your soft sighs of pleasure and see the blissful look on your face while he works.

You decide that Liam Mairi is simply perfect at everything he tries. The top of his class, and an excellent student. He’s done everything right, passing Xaden’s assessment with flying colors. But if he’s this good with his tongue up here… you need that pretty blond head between your thighs, immediately.

“Shh, honey,” Xaden soothes. “He’ll give you what you need in a minute.”

You flush, realizing that your soft whimpers have become more frequent and higher pitched, more urgent, bordering on pathetic. 

Liam pulls back, taking a second to admire you and giving your chest one last squeeze before he moves further down.

Gentle fingers hook into the waistband of the tiny pair of shorts you’re wearing, pulling them down your legs along with the even tinier underwear, a scrap of lace that while very pretty and undoubtedly expensive, must be removed, as it stands in the way of him burying his face between those gorgeous thighs of yours.

He wonders if you’ll taste as sweet as you had in those shameful dreams, the ones that had necessitated long, cold showers in the morning and sitting clear across the table from you at breakfast, trying not to look you in the eye.

“I’ll take those,” Xaden volunteers smugly, and Liam tosses them at him, returning his attention to your pussy.

“Holy shit, honey,” he swears, “you’re soaked.”

“Good,” Xaden praises. “That means you did everything right so far. But you still need to make her cum before I’ll let you fuck her.”

Liam’s eyes widen almost comically. He hadn’t expected Xaden to let him touch you at all, but now he’s allowed to go all the way with you? This has to be a dream.

“Only if you’re comfortable with that,” you remind him gently. “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” he answers, too quickly. Cute. 

You smile at him; another tiny cut that will be rubbed full of salt tomorrow morning, when he’ll have to see you sitting with Xaden at breakfast and pretend this never happened, that he hasn’t known the taste of your lips and the feel of your skin.

“Then hop to it, pretty boy,” you encourage, smiling — it’s clear that you don’t mean it as an insult, but as a sweet pet name; he’s absolutely gorgeous.

Liam doesn’t need instructions for this part. He gets you settled up against the pillows, making sure you’re comfortable there before he gets to work. He kisses each of your hip bones, his hands smoothing over your legs to part them enough to accommodate his broad shoulders as he lays down on his stomach, hooking his muscled arms around your thighs.

Xaden crosses the room toward you, perching on the edge of his desk, right next to the bed.

You gasp softly at the feeling of Liam’s tongue on you — he’s doing exactly what he’d done to your chest, those soft little licks and sucks, his hands massaging your thighs gently… 

“Just like that,” you breathe. He’s worked you up so well that you’re already close, and if he keeps doing what he’s doing, you’ll be cumming on his tongue in a minute or two.

He’s a very fast learner, and incredibly responsive— he’s figured out what earns him those cute little noises that have him throbbing with need, and now he’s doing those things over and over.

He resists the urge to reach down and stroke himself to take the edge off, knowing he wouldn’t last, not with how sweet you taste and the warmth and softness of your thigh against his cheek, your hand in his hair…

“Liam,” you mew, tugging at the soft blonde strands.

Your jaw drops at the realization of just how easily his name left your lips, how natural it felt… You look over at Xaden, wanting to apologize, but it’s hard to form words right now with how good Liam’s tongue feels sucking at your clit.

“It’s okay, honey,” Xaden soothes, tilting your chin up with a gentle hand. “You should let him know how good it feels — how else will he learn, hm?”

You nod, your eyes still locked with his. The depth of those nearly-black irises is such a stark contrast to Liam’s ice blue, but you could easily drown in both, never able to find your way back up to the surface.

“Slip a finger in, slowly.”

Liam’s hands are just as giant as Xaden’s, his fingers just as thick — but rougher, calloused from his constant whittling. Such a cute, innocent hobby. But there’s nothing innocent about the way he’s touching you right now.

“Look for that little rough spot,” Xaden instructs, still looking you directly in the eye. “Press into it a little bit.”

You whimper softly, entranced by the little gold flecks in his irises. 

“Sounds like you found it,” he says, sounding amused. “Now curl your fingertips against it, press up on it gently…”

Liam is a perfect soldier, in every sense of both words; very good at following orders, complying without hesitation and getting the job done, but he might be too perfect, too gentle and handsome and kind, too loving… too good to be true. He’s going to absolutely ruin you — both by making you fall apart for him, in what is undoubtedly going to be one of the best orgasms of your life, and by breaking your heart when this is all over. 

You focus back on the pleasure, the thoughts fading away quickly. “So good, baby,” you breathe, “just like that.”

Liam hums in acknowledgment, continuing the motions, the soft lap of his tongue and the gentle press of his fingertip into that special little spot quickly building up the pressure between your hips, getting you closer and closer…

“Add a second finger. You’ll need to stretch her a little if you want your cock to fit.”

It’s easy enough for him to slip in his middle finger beside his index, your body providing no resistance to the intrusion; you’re aching for it. You have been since Xaden told you about this little plan of his.

You need to thank him profusely for this later. Maybe you’ll get on your knees for him in the shower, or- “oh,” you gasp, the deep pleasure intensifying now that Liam is pushing two fingers into that little spot… you’re not going to last.

“Xay,” you whimper, remembering the rules he’d laid out for you prior to Liam’s arrival — Liam might be allowed to play with you for one night, but you’re still very much Xaden’s, and he’s still very much in control here.

He coos down at you patronizingly. “You getting close, honey? You wanna cum on Liam’s fingers?“

“Yes, please,” you pant, whining up at him.

“Such good manners,” he praises. “Go ahead, honey. Show him how pretty you sound when you cum.”

It only takes a few more seconds of that delicious pressure building before it becomes enough to throw you over the edge. You whine, tightening around Liam’s fingers and squirming in his grasp, babbling a mix of swear words and thank-you’s and both of their names. 

Liam slows his pace, letting you ride it out with a few more soft licks.

“Keep going,” Xaden orders. “She knows what to say if it’s too much. Doesn’t she, honey?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage between your cute little cries, gasping as you feel cold bands of shadow wrap around the backs of your knees, keeping your legs spread while you squirm in sensitivity, undecided between chasing the pleasure and running from it.

Thank the gods for sound shields.

It’s clear to Xaden that you’re reaching your limit, starting to get overwhelmed, and he doesn’t want to wear you out just yet. “Stop,” he orders, calling back his shadows.

Liam withdraws his fingers, and you slump back down against the pillows, spent and panting.

Liam doesn’t have to be told to comfort you after, to take care of you in the comedown — he does it instinctively. “Shh, honey,” he soothes, scooping you into his lap and holding you close. “It’s okay.”

You rest your head against his collarbone, cuddling into him and letting your eyes fall shut, just taking a moment to breathe.

“You did so good for us, pretty girl. Just breathe, hm? You’re safe with us.”

Xaden had convinced himself that this would be a one-off thing, but seeing the tenderness with which Liam is holding you, stroking your hair and cooing soft praises… 

Liam’s a good guy, kind-hearted and caring, but this isn’t just that — no, this is genuine love that he senses between you. It might be heightened right now due to the incredibly intimate experience you just had with one another, but there’s something there. He gets the feeling that there always has been, even before your days at Basgiath; it’s just been brought to the surface tonight, and oddly enough, Xaden isn’t mad about it at all.

It should piss him off. He should detest the idea of another pair of hands, male hands, on his girl, but it’s Liam. He loves Liam. Not in the way he loves you — and he doesn’t want to fuck him, that’s for sure — but he cares for the younger boy deeply, and if anyone else is going to be touching his girl, he’d want it to be Liam. Maybe that’s why he’d suggested this whole thing in the first place.

You’ve made a full recovery by now, caught your breath, and you sit up in Liam’s lap, drawing him into a kiss.

Such a needy little thing, always eager for more. Liam is happy to help, kissing you back easily, smoothing his hands over your sides and kneading your hips. He places a hand on the back of your head, another on your waist, laying you down in one slow, fluid movement — again, with the utmost gentleness, making sure that you’re comfortable.

“Put a pillow under her hips,” Xaden instructs. 

Liam takes one from the head of the bed, his other hand hooking under your knees to lift your lower body off the bed — you giggle, impressed by his strength.

Liam wonders if you like being thrown around a little bit, manhandled, held down… you’d look and sound so pretty getting pounded into the mattress, face-down ass-up, whimpering into the pillows, but he’s not wasting this opportunity on a quick, rough fuck — and Xaden would probably take issue with that, anyway. No, Liam’s going to take his sweet time with you, treat you nice and gently, and look into your eyes while he does it.

Your jaw drops at the sight of him finally pantsless, the thick black uniform fabric pulled off to expose the pale muscle of his thighs. Gods, you’d love to straddle one and just grind against it while you kiss him, those giant hands on your hips helping guide you back and forth until you came, and then…

Holy shit. 

Everything about Liam Mairi is perfect, including — and especially — his cock. And you need it inside you, now.

He strokes himself once, twice, as if he isn’t rock-hard already, dragging the tip through your wetness, letting it tease your clit…

You whimper softly, shifting your hips down to try to guide him into you.

“Words, honey,” he reminds, in a tone eerily similar to Xaden’s. The last twenty minutes have certainly boldened him.

“Want you to fuck me, Liam, please,” you ask softly, pouting up at him. “Need it.”

He could never say no to that pretty face, never deprive you of anything you wanted. He slowly pushes forward, giving you the first two inches. 

You take in that same little breath you do when Xaden slides into you, looking up at Liam the same way, with glossy eyes and parted lips, gripping the sheets on either side of you. He takes one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “You okay, honey?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, taking a moment to adjust. He’s not quite as big as Xaden, but it’s still more than enough to fill you completely, a slight stretch as he slowly makes his way forward, a little bit at a time.

He leans down to kiss you, stroking a roughened hand over the softness of your waist soothingly. It’s taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to lose it right now, at the feeling of you wrapped around him, but he needs to make sure you’re okay first before he does anything else.

“M’ ready,” you tell him softly.

“If it hurts, say the word and I’ll stop, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay,” you answer obediently, your heart melting — Liam has always been sweet to you, if a little shy, but right now it’s increased fourfold, every word and every touch coated with love and care. 

“Attagirl,” he praises, giving you a little peck before he straightens back up, adjusting his hold on your waist and starting to rock his hips into yours.

You both gasp in unison at the feeling, soft pleasure spreading through your core.

“How’s she feel?” Xaden asks, a note of smug amusement in his tone — it's clear that Liam is finally starting to lose his grip a little, his breathing getting heavier, his cheeks flushed…

“Like heaven,” he answers, trying to keep his composure, “so warm and wet and tight… fuck,”

He’s so fucking deep inside you, hitting all the right spots and touching you in the right places, working his way into your heart and carving out a space for himself between your ribs. You hold his hand a little tighter, whimpering softly.

“Doing so good for me, honey, taking me so well,” Liam soothes, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “How’s that feel?”

“Really… good… So… deep,” you manage, your eyes still locked with his, your breaths coming in little pants and gasps.

“Yeah?” he asks, teasing, “Can you feel me in your tummy, baby?” He lays a giant hand between your hips, pushing down, and your jaw drops — the added pressure makes you feel even more full of him, makes every sensation more overwhelming and intense. 

Where did he learn to do that?

“Uh-huh,” you stammer. “Feels so good, ah,” It’s very good. Overwhelmingly good. 

Xaden makes a mental note to try that with you later — you look like you absolutely love it.

The little fucker didn’t need lessons at all, just a confidence boost, and you’re certainly giving that to him. Xaden knew that deep down, knew about that little puppy crush he’s had on you for years, which hadn’t faded in the time you’d been apart, but decided to offer you up anyway, precise reasons unknown.

He gets the feeling that this might not be a one-night thing after all. But maybe that’s for the best. Maybe Liam can warm your bed and tend to your heart while he’s busy running his revolution and spending late nights on wingleader duty, doing his dagger drops with the fliers…

Liam adjusts the position of his hand, a long finger reaching down to swirl over your clit, and the combination of it all is enough to get you there.

You tear your eyes away from Liam’s to look over at Xaden, a panicked little whimper leaving your lips. 

He knows exactly what that sound means. “Shh, honey, it’s okay,” he coos, stroking your hair. “You can cum.”

“Thank you, oh, fuck,”

Liam hadn’t gotten a proper look at you last time, his eyes closed and his head tucked between your thighs, but looking down at you now, seeing your face; cheeks flushed, lips parted in cute little panting breaths, hands clutching the sheets… and then he feels it — feels you clamp down on him, your thighs trembling against his as you shatter.

“Fuck,” Liam rasps, his fingers digging into your hips to ground himself as he continues to fuck you through it. 

You’re drowning in the deep blue of his eyes, and you need something to hold on to. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down by the shoulders so he’s practically laying on top of you — you always do this to Xaden, needing to feel him close to you in your hazy state, and Liam isn’t an exception.

The closeness definitely does something to Liam as well. He braces his forearms against the bed and continues to rock his hips into yours, panting soft praises. “Attagirl. So pretty, so soft and sweet and perfect… you feel so fucking good, sweetheart, doing so well for me.”

If you weren’t his brother’s girlfriend, he’d probably throw an I love you in there too, find some way to call you his, to tell you how much you mean to him outside of this bed, but he still has enough rationality left to know would be a bad idea even without Xaden supervising this whole thing.

He’s so close to you, your entire bodies pressed together, your breaths mixing and noses brushing… you’re clinging to him, continuing to whimper up at him softly… He’s about to fall apart himself. 

“You can cum inside her, if you want,” Xaden offers, too casually.

You keen at the idea, shifting your hips to try to take him deeper.

“Oh, would you like that, pretty girl?” he asks teasingly, through panting breaths. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes, please,” you beg, wrapping your legs around him tighter.

He’s not going to last. He starts to move a little faster, chasing his own high — he’s never waited this long, never spent so much time on a partner’s pleasure, and while you absolutely deserved it, he needs his own release desperately. “Oh, fuck,” he gasps, “gonna cum, baby, are you sure you want me to—”

You tangle your hand in the short blonde hair at the back of his neck and yank him down into a kiss, keeping your legs tight around his waist, not letting him pull out.

He whines against your lips, the prettiest little muffled moan as he spills into you. 

“Holy shit,” he pants, his cheeks red from the exertion. He’s always pretty, but nothing beats this, all flushed and fucked out, his hair mussed and lips swollen from the kisses you’d shared, eyes half-lidded…

You commit the sight to memory, suddenly hit with the realization that you’ll never see it again. For all intents and purposes, this “lesson” is over, and starting tomorrow morning, Liam will go back to being your boyfriend’s little brother, and nothing else.

He seems to realize the same thing, resting his head over your heart and breathing you in for a moment, the both of you lingering in the afterglow, not wanting to say goodbye. You hold him a little closer, stroking your hand through his damp hair silently.

Xaden lets you have a minute together, seeming to understand the significance of this moment for the both of you, and backing off.

He slips down from his perch on the edge of the desk, giving you space, but you reach for him, wanting him close, too. 

“Can Li stay the night?” you ask in a small voice, not ready for him to leave.

He smiles at you. “Of course he can, sweet girl.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Now let's get you both cleaned up.”

You hum sleepily, letting him pull you up out of bed and get you ready for the showers.

It’s surprisingly not awkward, the two boys working in tandem to clean you up — neither of them mind the other’s presence, having been desensitized to casual nudity from years — or in Liam’s case, weeks — of sharing a bathing room with a handful of strangers.

Liam dries you off, sorting out your hair while Xaden helps rub in that sweet-smelling lotion and dresses you in one of his shirts before you flop down into bed, cuddling up between them contentedly. 

You give Liam a sweet little goodnight kiss before you roll over, working yourself into Xaden’s arms like you always do, curling up against the strength of his chest, your head over his heart. 

This could work, Xaden decides. You have enough room in your heart for both of them, and he knows that Liam’s intentions are pure — the only hitch will be managing his own emotions, namely any jealousy that arises over another man being romantic with his girlfriend. 

It had honestly surprised him when he’d decided to offer Liam a night with you. He’s always considered himself possessive, ready to glare at anyone who looked at you too long — and that had intensified after he’d gotten his magic, once he could “read” people, but maybe that’s why he’d let Liam in, because he felt nothing but love and admiration from the boy. 

Still, he can’t help but feel a little left out, even if he’d been the one controlling the whole situation — he hadn’t gotten off himself, too focused on coaching Liam and making sure you were okay, and then it would just have been awkward to do anything with you while Liam sat there idle… 

Tomorrow morning, after Liam heads back to his own room, you’ll have some fun, just the two of you. Maybe he’ll tie you up with his shadows again, or press you up against the wall in the showers… the possibilities are endless, but he’ll probably decide on sleepy morning sex. It’s a Friday night, so you can sleep in a little Saturday morning, and have time for a lazy, loving fuck before anything is expected of either of you. He’ll remind you how much you love each other, and treat you as sweetly as Liam had — admittedly, he hasn’t been too gentle with you lately, focused on fucking out the stress of his third year, and being wingleader and leading a revolution on top of it all, but you’d taken it well, literally.

He’ll sleep on it, give it a day or two to simmer before he’ll discuss it with each of you; you first, of course, to see what you say so he doesn’t get Liam’s hopes up, but from the way your hand is still tangled up with Liam’s, his chest pressed to your back and his face nuzzled into the side of your neck, it’s pretty clear that neither of you would be opposed to them sharing you.

But all that can wait — for now, you just need to rest, tucked safely between the two boys that love you more than anyone else in the world.

#liam mairi #xaden riorson #fourth wing #liam mairi x reader #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing x reader #mine #18+ #smut

[alltheyoungmoons]

The Gift - pt. II

G - WIP - Part I/? - 1k words - ATYD timeline compliant.

“You’re going to help me?” Lily’s pink lips stretched into a wide smile, her hopes restored.

“Of course, anything to make our Moony happy”, Sirius nodded, chivalrously. “So, let’s start with the things you want to avoid? Easier if they’re out of the way.”

“Alright, so: definitely no sweets, chocolate or cigarettes,” she eyed him severely at the latter, but with a smirk “…he’ll get enough of those as is. No more hand-knitted items either, I just don’t have the time, even if I enchanted my needles to do it on their own - and I’ve been gifting him those since second year anyway…” she kept reasoning out loud, keeping track on her fingers. Sirius was nodding along, realising at that moment how long and how well she knew Remus. She probably was the only other person in the world who knew him as well as Sirius did…almost. Sirius relished in the thought that he would always be number one in that regard “…and no more studying supplies! I’m looking for something that will last far beyond school.”

“Ok, that’s a great starting point” Sirius agreed. “So - books are always a safe choice with Moony, but let’s just keep them as a last resort for now, if you really want to impress him. If we don’t figure out anything better.”

“I agree… he really doesn’t need to do any more reading until the end of school!” she chuckled, “I don’t know how he manages, it’s a miracle he’s still got perfect eyesight!” She shook her head fondly. 

Sirius chuckled at that, too, thinking of all the times he caught Remus with his face so buried in a book you’d think he was snogging it. 

“Right? You’d think he’d be half as blind as James at least, by now” he shrugged, smiling, lowering his voice considerably “I guess being a dark creature has his perks after all…did you know he can see in the dark?”

“He cannot!” Her surprise poking through her whisper.

“Oh yes” Sirius nodded. He was now swinging back and forth on the back legs of his chair. “Caught him strolling in the dark many times - the maniac. First time he gave me a right fright, too."

Lily shook her head disbelievingly - for all she knew about Remus, she must’ve never inquired on the extent of his lycanthropy. 

“Speaking of James,“ Lily grinned “have you ever tried his glasses on? He took them off the other day while we-“ her whole face changed to red “Anyway I put them on, and..” She blinked slowly, leaving her facial expression to convey the sheer shock of this discovery. 

“Of course I’ve tried them on!” Honestly, who did the woman think he was. “Once, in first year, we bet who could last longer, me with his glasses or him without. They made me so sick I took them off after a few minutes, but of course he couldn't see I had, so I just waited until he admitted he couldn’t find our dorm room door to go down to breakfast.” 

Lily rolled her apple green eyes, but she was smiling. 

“It’s incredible how thin the lenses are, too,” she mused, “Muggle glasses for such a prescription would be as thick as butterbeer glass bottoms! A kid in my primary school class had them - they made his eyes so small!”

He tried to imagine James with such a contraption on his nose, struggling to hold in his barking laughter - he was terrified of Pince. He was also quite uneasy in libraries still, but Lily’s presence made it much more bearable. 

“So, books aside then…” Lily went back to wondering what to get their friend. “Isn’t there maybe another magical contraption that could work? Like that compass?”

Sirius knew she was asking him because, being the heir to one of the oldest and most traditionalist “Pureblood” clans in the country, he was basically the resident expert in magical paraphernalia. He felt his thoughts starting to race, raking through the images of the countless useless knick-knacks sitting in display cases in Grimmauld Place, Kreacher polishing them with the care reserved for an infant... Though now, being surrounded by books, it was hard to concentrate on any other object - the more he tried to avoid thinking of them, the more it felt they were the key to solving their problem. Surely the library stored some sort of catalogue…? 

“And to think that when I met you, at any mention of reading you’d have squirmed away as if you’d been chased by a Boggart” Sirius had teased the taller boy as they made their way into Flourish & Blotts, that past December, just before- “Yeah” Remus gave him a sly smile “You’ve created a monster.”

Sirius felt as if he was struck by lightning and slammed the front legs of his chair on the floor. He was grinning madly, and Lily was staring at him. Everything had fallen into place.

“Oh spill it, you peeve me so when you act like this!”

Sirius didn’t have time to argue back - not only was this a great idea, better-than-perfect even, but he was sitting across the only other person who could truly understand the impact of it. 

“So you know how dear ol’ Remus is always reading…”

“Yes, we’ve established that, but we said-“

“But when we first met him,” he interrupted “he didn’t. He couldn’t. I know you know about it, you made him that invisible thing in second year.”

“It’s not invisible, it’s transparent.” She corrected. A note of embarrassment then started in her voice “But yeah… I knew about your spell, too. It was dead impressive, still is, to be honest, but he couldn’t use it during the summer, you know.”

He didn’t know, though, he hadn’t thought about that, and of course Remus had never brought it up. Sirius silently cursed his purebloodness. 

“Right, so, if you were able to turn that plastic sheet into a reading aid…”

(He hoped he pronounced “plastic” correctly. He had mispronounced it once and Mary didn’t let him live it down for weeks.)

“…then you could do the same with glass! Glasses!” Lily was beaming, getting the suggestion right away. The girl was truly smart as a whip.

“Reading glasses” Sirius nodded, grinning wildly. He knew, this was going to work. 

#part 2! next chapter is coming next week i fear #i'll eventually post this as a one-shot once it's finished #wolfstar fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders #sirius black #the marauders #lily evans #marauders hc #all the young dudes #atyd marauders #wolfstar fic #moonflower #all the young dudes headcanon #remus headcanon #remus lupin headcanon #remus x sirius #wolfstar hc #wolfstar headcanon

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 11

When the vampires returned to Loki’s place, Claire and Louise were glad to see that everyone was ok. Even though they were all covered in blood.

‘Is everyone ok? Was it hunters?’ Claire asked as she rushed to Loki.

‘All good. Yeah... hunters managed to get into the school.’ Loki nodded. He was just glad that she was ok.

‘There’s the main bathroom upstairs and the one down here, feel free to clean up everyone. I'm going for a quick shower in the en-suite before we decide what to do next.’ Loki said to the others as Claire wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He made his way upstairs and Claire went with him.

‘I bagsy the upstairs bathroom.’ Jessica said quickly as she grabbed Spencer’s hand and dragged him upstairs.

‘We’ll take the downstairs one!’ Severus said quickly as he and Toshi darted down the hall to the small bathroom at the end.

Chris huffed in annoyance.

‘Kitchen?’ Louise suggested.

‘Good idea.’ Chris smiled and went with her to the kitchen.

‘We’ll just have to wait then.’ Matt huffed as he folded his arms over his chest.

‘There’s a hose out back.’ Chris called to him with a chuckle.

David laughed a little, though Matt didn’t look overly pleased. They went through to the living room in the mean-time, Bat greeted them with happy chirps, though did look concerned when she saw them covered in blood.

‘Hey, cutie!’ David sat down and Bat instantly jumped into his lap, purring.

‘It’s bad enough that we have to worry about ourselves, but I feel for the guys having to worry about their humans too. It can’t be easy.’ Matt said as he sat down.

‘Maybe they should turn them sooner than later, so they’re at least stronger.’ David suggested.

‘I think Loki would rather die than turn Claire before she’s ready.’ Matt said.

‘Has he said if that’s the long-term plan?’ David asked.

‘I heard him mention that they’d talked about it when she’s a bit older, more in-line with Loki’s age. Apparently drinking her blood is too addicting right now.’ Matt smirked.

‘I imagine it is.’ David nodded. ‘What’s up with you, you’re really restless?’ He asked when he noticed Matt's leg bobbing up and down constantly.

‘I just hate the fact the hunters got into the school right under our noses!’ Matt sighed in frustration.

‘I know, I do too. I’m sure we will get to the bottom of it though.’ David assured him.

-

‘Is Louise alright about it all?’ Loki asked Claire on the way up the stairs.

‘She’s ok, just worried about Chris and the rest of you, like I was. How bad was it?’ Claire asked Loki when they got into the privacy of their bedroom and en-suite.

Loki was quick to remove his bloodied shirt. Claire was trying not to think about how damn sexy he looked naked with blood splattered on him…

Loki ran a hand through his hair. ‘I… I tore into someone. I let myself get too carried away.’ He turned his back to her.

‘Loki. It’s not your fault, you were doing what you needed to do.’ Claire moved in behind him and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face against his back. ‘The hunters don’t care about who they hurt, going after innocent vampires, they deserve what’s coming to them.'

Loki sniffed at the air. ‘Are you… are you aroused?’ Loki asked as he turned in her arms and looked down at her with an eyebrow up.

‘What? Me? Aroused? At my sexy vampire boyfriend being all macho and covered in blood? Absolutely not!’ Claire said quickly as her cheeks turned red.

Loki chuckled and shook his head. He dipped his head down and kissed her on the lips hungrily. ‘As much as I’d love to ravage you right now, the others will be waiting to go over everything.’ He sighed over her lips.

‘Not even a quickie in the shower?’ Claire asked innocently and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

‘Ohh so naughty.’ Loki growled and scooped her up by her bum, holding her flush against him as he carried her through into the bathroom.

Loki managed to get rid of his trousers while Claire turned the shower on and removed her dress. They hopped in and didn’t take long to get handsy, Claire was already aroused enough though so they didn’t need to do much foreplay.

Claire knew that Loki was needing a release, he was feeling conflicted over killing the hunters in the way he did, plus all the blood that was exposed had driven his instincts wild. So she wasn’t surprised when he pinned her against the wall and fucked her roughly, nipping at her neck in the process, doing his best to avoid sinking his fangs into her right now.

Claire certainly didn’t complain at the feral-ness of the fucking, her body was cheering in delight at being taken in such a manner. She could barely catch her breath as he pounded into her, she didn’t care if everyone in the house heard her whimpering and moaning over the sound of the running water.

-

‘I thought being a vampire would be easy and safe.’ Spencer chuckled as he and Jessica decided to have a quick shower as well, since they had the big bathroom. The shower was big enough for them both.

‘It’s not always fun and games, unfortunately.’ Jessica sighed.

‘So I’m beginning to see.’

‘Do you regret being turned?’ Jessica asked as they got into the shower and just rinsed the blood off their bodies, as tempting as it was to fool around, they decided to behave themselves since they were in someone else’s house, and they knew that others would no doubt want to use the bathroom.

‘No, otherwise I’d be dead.’ Spencer laughed. ‘Plus, it means I can keep up with you better.’ He smirked and grabbed her hips to move her back against the tiled wall of the shower.

‘Behave, others will be needing in, remember.’ Jessica giggled.

Spencer huffed and pressed his forehead against hers. ‘I guess so.’

‘Besides, I want to know what the hell is going on. We need to figure out how they got in.’

When they got out of the shower and started to get dried before putting on their bloodied ball clothes again, they could hear the sound of Loki and Claire going at it.

‘Why do they get to have sex but we can’t have a quickie?’ Spencer pouted.

Jessica laughed and kissed his pouting lips. ‘It’s their home.’

-

‘Blood looks good on you.’ Toshi smirked at Severus as they shimmied into the small bathroom. It was just a toilet and a sink.

‘Looks better on you.’ Severus smirked back at her.

They filled the sink with water and found a cloth under the sink in the cabinet. Toshi soaked it in the water then was about to wash her face, though Severus gently took it from her. ‘Allow me.’

He took his time softly wiping her face clean, then he focused on her arms and around her neck and chest. Toshi smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the way he was taking care of her. She returned the favour for him once her skin was clean of blood.

‘How do you think they got into the school?’ Toshi asked as she chucked the cloth into the sink once they were done, turning the water a nice bloody red.

‘I’m not sure. It’s quite the concern though. I don’t like what they said to Loki about going after our humans, too. With you being an ex-hunter, you may be even more at risk if they see you as a traitor.’ Severus said with a frown.

‘N’aww. You know you don’t need to worry about me.’ Toshi smiled sweetly and cupped his cheek.

Severus turned his head and kissed her palm. ‘I know you can look after yourself, but you know I still worry. I always will.’

‘I know… I’m more worried about Claire and Louise, though. They can’t really protect themselves, can they?’ Toshi turned to the sink and pulled the plug, she tried to clean the sink up a little so it wasn’t left too messy.

‘Not as such. I doubt Chris and Loki would let anything happen to them. Although tonight was a close call.’ Severus sighed.

‘It was indeed.’ Toshi agreed, she slipped her arms around Severus and laid her head on his chest.

Severus held her tightly to him and slid his hand slowly up and down her back. ‘I’d be even more out of my mind with worry if you weren’t highly skilled.’

Toshi’s eyes flew open as she suddenly realised she knew what needed to happen.

‘We need to talk to Chris and Loki, they need to teach their girls some fighting skills… just in case.’

‘Hmm, perhaps that could work. I doubt they would physically have the strength, but couldn’t hurt to have some training under their belts.’

‘Exactly.’

-

When Chris and Louise got into the kitchen, Chris closed the door over so they’d have a little privacy.

‘You weren’t hurt, were you?’ Louise asked softly, when Chris turned to face her, he saw worry all over her face.

‘Not at all.’ He smiled. ‘This blood isn’t mine, don’t worry.’ He chuckled as he motioned to his white shirt that was more red than white now.

‘Thank you for making sure Claire and I got to safety. I still can’t believe you managed to carry us both with such ease.’ She laughed a little shyly. ‘And I’m glad you’re ok.’

‘I will always make sure you’re safe, pumpkin.’ He reached out slowly and cupped her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and the nickname.

He’d been a little worried about Louise seeing him covered in blood like he was, but realising she didn’t seem scared, he was so relieved. In-fact, he could’ve sworn that he could smell a small hint of arousal in the air… making his mouth water.

Chris cleared his throat and began unbuttoning his shirt. ‘Do you mind that I change my shirt?’ He asked, noticing her eyes were locked on his fingers undoing his buttons.

‘No…’ She squeaked. ‘Oh, I still have your jacket.’ She said sheepishly and rushed around the table, she’d draped it over one of the chairs.

‘Perfect. Will save me having to squeeze into one of Loki’s.’ Chris chuckled as he finished unbuttoning his shirt.

Louise felt her heartbeat quickening, she tried not to stare as Chris shrugged his shirt off. He was covered in tattoos, though they looked so good on him. He was also far more muscular than she had imagined. She had to turn her head away when she felt her face turning bright red.

She tried to focus as she went over to the sink and started running the water to get it warm. Then she raided through the cupboards until she found a hand towel and a cloth for him.

Louise stepped to the side, to let Chris get washed up. As he splashed his face with the water, Louise found herself staring at him again. When he peeked to the side and smirked a little, she quickly averted her eyes away and turned her body slightly to try and stop staring at him.

‘So… uh, hunters?’ She squeaked.

‘It was. I don’t know how the hell they got into the school with so many vampires there. It must’ve been during the fire alarm.’ Chris said angrily.

‘One of them maybe set it off?’ Louise suggested, she turned to look at him again when she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he was drying his face and hands with the towel.

‘Perhaps… Though that still means one of them had to get inside.’ Chris sighed.

He slipped his suit jacket on, though there were only three buttons on it that were low down, so even with them buttoned up, most of his chest was still showing and Louise was finding it really difficult to focus properly.

‘My eyes are up here, pumpkin.’ He said cheekily and winked at her when her eyes shot up to his eyes.

‘S… sorry! I’m sorry.’ She stammered and blushed hard.

‘No need to apologise.’ He grinned and cupped her cheek. ‘I can’t stop staring at you, it’s only fair you stare back.’ He winked at her again, making her laugh.

‘Are you all done in there?’ David called through after knocking on the door.

Chris growled a little with a sigh. ‘Yes.’ He called back.

David opened the door and walked in. ‘Good. I need to at least wash my hands, get the smell of the blood off.’ He said as he darted straight for the sink.

Matt came in after him too, needing to do the same.

‘Are the others down yet?’ Louise asked.

‘Spencer and Jessica are, they said they could hear Loki and Claire going at it so they might be a little longer.’ David scoffed.

‘Of course they are getting off together while they’ve got guests.’ Chris rolled his eyes.

‘Just so rude.’ Louise laughed.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #loki fic #david tennant #chris motionless #chris motionless x ofc #vampire loki #vampire chris motionless #jessica chastain #spencer charnas #matt murdock #eternally mine #the redbridge hunts

[callsign-relic]

(Not a request dw)

Go ahead with the drabbles! I approve! :D

Also ES! Megatron with sharp teeth and claws is Very good, yes.

Eee thank you! Have started writing one as we speak actually :3

And AAHSGSHCHCHJF YOURE KILLING ME HERE

Ended up writing a tiny drabble for this too what are the odds HAHA so take a look below if you’re interested :D

Now I’m imagining like. Newly redeemed Megatron still having his sharp teeth and claws, and all the humans being utterly terrified of him cause he’s still learning how to handle his own strength around humans. Picking a human up with ease, the points of his sharp claws this close to digging into their skin. Snarling at them if they pissed him off, baring his sharp teeth, each one the size of the human’s own head.

Optimus, Elita, and Dorothy all have to remind Megatron to calm down and put the human down. To which he sighs and agrees, apologizing. “Sorry. I’m still trying to learn how to coexist with such fragile creatures.”

“It’s alright Megs,” Dot reassures him as she strides up to his legs, patting a reassuring hand on one of his calves. “Say, how’s about we get you a makeover?”

“‘Makeover’?” He repeats in a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

“Yeah, a makeover! Fix up those teeth, flatten your claws— a makeover!”

Megatron growls in uncertainty, “That sounds more like you’re just trying to get rid of anything remotely threatening about me.”

“Megs, around here, just your existence is enough of a threat,” Dot laughs, but the glare Megatron gives her and the uncomfortable looks she receives from Optimus and Elita are enough to get her to dial it back. “Look, all I’m saying is— you have a new alt mode, right? And you wanna start fresh. Maybe changing the more dangerous parts about you can help you adjust to this new situation. You don’t have to be on the offensive all the time anymore.”

Again, Megatron hums. But after a moment of consideration, he nods. “Fine.”

“Good.” Dot pulls up her phone, “let’s see when we’d best to able to do it— WOAH!”

Massive black digits wrap around her form, and Dot’s immediately lifted to Megatron’s eye level. “You will take me to get these changes done now. Before I change my mind.”

“Woah, hey! I am not gonna take that!” Dot crosses her arms, “if we’re going to be partners, we need to set some boundaries.”

“Ugh, I haven’t the time for this,” Megatron rolls his optics so hard his helm tilts to once side.

“Nuh-uh, you are gonna listen to me, old bot!” Dot continues on her tirade until every bot in the vicinity’s audials hurt. From then on, Megatron tried his best to not pick up Dot— or any human, really— without at least a warning first.

#relic answers #relic writes #I guess HAHA

[rhaegang]

for all the fluids in saltburn there are NO PISS FICS!!! WTF!!! i just know oliver has a piss kink i know it

Gonna talk about some saltboys and PISS under this cut.

I think piss gets a lot of Nopes because it’s a toileting activity / excretory.

But like — there are fewer bacteria in your piss than in your spit. It is sterile! Less grody than someone’s bath water.

If the piss isn’t happening anywhere near the toilet, it’s a pretty damn clean bodily function, all things considered.

Aside from that, there’s the sensory issues — smell & taste, mainly. It is absolutely not something most people consider pleasing for either of those senses.

Okay — BUT

Oliver is not most people. Oliver did fucking slurp that bath water. And why?? Because it was steeped in the essence of Felix. It had his sweat, his cum, his skin cells in it. To Oliver, that made it ambrosia.

Of fucking course he’d be down to drink Felix’s piss. It wouldn’t even need to be coming straight from the source. He’d drink it from a cup. He’d fucking do shots of it.

But if it was coming directly out of Felix? If Felix’s dick was right there, even just a peek of it through open jeans and an unbearably large hand, Oliver would be more than down.

And if the smell and the taste were terrible and made him feel sick, it wouldn’t even matter. Something disgusting becomes something devotional when done on one’s knees, he’d think. If he had to struggle to swallow, if he had to choke it down, he’d consider it even more of a victory when he did it. Mastering his own body like that so he could take Felix inside him in a way he’s sure no one else ever has — yeah. He’d be fucking crowing about it, to himself at least.

There’s everyone else, and they all love Felix. And then there’s Oliver, the one who loves Felix more than them.

So that’s all pretty focused on just ONE way to approach piss kink in this ship. We ain’t even started in on how it could play into degradation kink (Felix’s 😊) or D/s and denial.

Felix loves to feel like Oliver is all his. That’s obvious. And every so often, he needs Oliver to prove it. (Looking at you, Tennis Court Champagne.)

Imagine, if you will, the whole crew out at the pub the night after exams. They’re all still wearing their silly hats and boas and giant sunglasses etc. And they’re all getting just indescribably hammered.

And Oliver, squished into the booth, wall on one side and Felix on the other, elbows him a bit. Leans up to whisper shout in his ear that he’s gotta run to the loos. Of course he does! He’s had how many pints and liquor besides?

And Felix meets his eyes for just a moment, then gives the tiniest shrug — not my problem — before going back to his conversation like Oliver hadn’t said anything at all.

So Oliver tries again. But Felix won’t even acknowledge it.

And on and on, until finally, when the person sitting on Felix’s other side has just gotten up to go buy the next round, Felix looks at him.

And he says, “how about you just hold it, mate? last call’s in less than an hour. if you hold it, you can use the toilet in my room after.” (Of course he’s one of the privileged few with an en suite for his room.)

Oliver would be so unsure if he’d heard that right or not. What was Felix getting at, anyway? Why would he care if Oliver held it? Why would he think Oliver wanted to use *his* toilet?

So don’t you think he’d ask “but why not just let me up out the booth so I can go now?”

And don’t you think his eyes would be so, so wide, and go so, so dark, if Felix replied, “well, I’m not going to hold your dick for you in the pub toilets where just anyone could walk in, am I, Ollie?”

Yeah. I think that’s how it’d go. And I think Oliver would be white-knuckling the edge of that table in the pub, and crossing his big toes over the others inside his socks, and bouncing his knee, and dropping his head against that wall, suffering every second of the rest of that hour. And Felix, able to see all of it, would be fucking glowing.

Because Oliver is doing what Felix told him to do. And why would he do that? Because he is wholly Felix’s creature. No one else’s. No one else has that sort of hold on Oliver. No one else even knows just what Oliver is willing to do for him. How fucking devoted he is to Felix. It’s not the sort of shallow lip service Felix gets from most people. It’s something stranger, but realer.

And no. No, I don’t think Oliver manages to hold it all the way until they get to Felix’s room. I think, more likely, he grabs Felix’s arm when they’re nearly there, in a narrow walkway between buildings, and squeezes so hard Felix thinks it really truly may bruise.

And so Felix, already having been reassured of what he needed to know, says “take your cock out, Ollie,” (and damn, tequila makes for loose tongues, doesn’t it?), then spins him by the shoulder to face stone. He curls over Oliver’s shoulder so he can see what he’s doing, which is reaching around his hips to scoop Oliver’s soft dick up in his hand and give the head just the softest little squeeze with his thumb and forefinger.

Amazingly, despite how big his hand is, Oliver fills it much better than Felix expected. But Oliver’s just standing there, trembling. Missing the point, as usual.

So Felix has to remind him, “Isn’t there something you’ve been wanting?”

And Oliver, well. That’s a loaded fucking question, in his mind. But he grabs Felix’s forearm with both of his hands. He leans back into Felix’s chest. And enveloped there in a tiny world that’s fully defined by the shape of Felix, Oliver can let go. Can surrender to the neediest, messiest side of himself.

It would definitely be loud as fuck when Oliver’s piss hits the wall. And once he starts, he’d be so relieved, he’d have to moan.

Don’t you think so? Don’t you think that as Oliver’s inhaling the scent of cigarettes and cologne and tequila breath and his own concentrated piss, and above all the scent of Felix, he’s moaning like a highly paid whore? He’s pulling a stupid fucking face, and he hears Felix chuckle, but it just feels so, so, so good to let go.

Yeah. “Yeah, bet that feels so good, doesn’t it, mate?”

A little sob of agreement.

“And aren’t you terribly glad I didn’t let you out of that booth? It wouldn’t have felt nearly this nice, obviously.”

No response aside from a shudder and the sound of the stream slowing to a drip.

And since Felix is SUCH a good friend, he’s definitely going to give Oliver’s dick a shake or three (or six) before stuffing it back into Oliver’s boxers for him.

See???

There’s so, sooooo many opportunities for cattonquick & piss to work.

Anon — If you think this post might convince others to see the light, feel free to share it. 😇

#gang asks

[taz-metamals]

I need someone who can draw people to get me Indrid in pink and yellow, STAT

#please i beg #i’d do it myself but I haven’t figured out people yet #animals are so much easier #my people never look like people #or at least they don’t look how I imagined them in my head #anyway rosy maple moths are dope and I don’t know why I have never before considered the possibility of Indrid in more colors #the adventure zone #taz #taz amnesty #taz indrid #indrid cold #mothman #rosy maple moth #the zone cast #justin mcelroy #travis mcelroy #griffin mcelroy #clint mcelroy

[goodknifeboy]

I know there are a lot of fanfics about Jason being caught by the Justice League and usually getting bailed out by the batfam, but imagine if it was Brucie Wayne bailing him out:

In the JL interrogation room:

Superman: Alright, Red Hood, who is your supplier helping you move drugs in Star City?

Red Hood, who was undercover investigating a drug ring and got caught in a JL bust and sesnses an opportunity to mess with Batman: Look, I know you guys aren't cops, but can I get at least get one phone call?

Justice league looking skeptical?

Red Hood: You can even monitor it.

Green Arrow: Fine one phone call, but it will be monitored.

Hands Hood a phone

Red Hood: Hey Dad, I got stopped by the Justice League. Could you come bail me out? Really, okay, see you soon. Okay, my Dad said that he would bail me, so could we go over to the teleporters?

Green Arrow: Okay, firstly, we aren't cops, you can't just post bail and get out. Secondly, how would this "Dad" get up here?

Red Hood: You'll see.

Minutes later, Brucie Wayne walks in with a trail of Heroes, trying to explain why he cannot be at the Watchtower.

Superman: Mr. Wayne what are you doing here and how did you get here?

Bruce laying the Brucie persona on thick: Well as one of the Justice League's biggest doners and tech suppliers I have access to the teleporters, as for why I'm here it's to bail out my son. Hi Jaylad!

Red Hood fully expecting Batman: What?

Green Arrow remembering his friend's grief over loosing Jason: Ummmm, Mr. Wayne this is the Red Hood. You know "Bag full of severed heads" Red Hood.

Brucie: Yes, I know he's had some issues with his big feelings, but he's still my sweet little boy.

Superman: And you think that he's your late son Jason Todd?

Brucie: Yes, Batman even confirmed it was him. It turns out that after he died, he was brought back by an organization that planned on using him as a weapon against Batman. But he left them and has been working to improve Crime Alley, I'm so proud of him.

Green Arrow: We caught him in Star City with Drug runners.

Brucie: I'm sure he has a good explanation, don’t you Jaylad?

Red Hood still reeling from Bruce showing up as Brucie and not Batman: I was undercover?

Brucie: See perfectly reasonable, now can I please have my baby boy back? Alfred will be so upset if he's not home for dinner.

Surprisingly, this works , the Justice League is to stunned by this revelation and later confirm this with Batman that yes, the notorious Red Hood is the son of Billionaire, philanthropist airhead Brucie Wayne. Jason, meanwhile, has suffered a huge blow to his cred in the Hero community because of the association with Brucie instead of the Batfam. The bat siblings do not let this go anytime soon.

#batman #batfam #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #damian wayne #dick grayson #duke thomas #jason todd #stephanie brown #tim drake #justice league #superman #green arrow #clark kent #kal el #oliver queen #dc comics #brucie wayne

[screampied]

Hey vegas baby, so lil request if you don’t mind, imagine riding Sukuna and he is slapping your face urging you to go faster, and you slapping him back and laughing in his face 🤭 like he is in shock because how dare you, but in the same time he is like “ok girl, I’m intrigued” 🤨

Love you and your works 🤎

❤︎ ໋𓈒 sukuna getting turned on at you being a brat

warnings. fem! reader, cowgirl, praise, degradation, impact play, unprotected, choking, overstim. an. thank u luv u2!!!!

sukuna would be laid back with the most smuggest expression on his face — he noticed how you’d always halt your hips a little, slowing down the moment you were getting close.

he tsks, bringing a big hand to grip your chin before giving you a few smacks. “awwww,” he’d coo, feeling your hips try to keep up its repetitive jerking. he was just teasing you, giving you another light tap on your cheek before your bottom lip quavered. you felt yourself reaching close, your legs felt like complete mush before you whimpered. “don’t tell me the big girl’s tapping out already. what happened to ridin’ me until my eyes rolls back?” and sukuna sneers once he sees your cute glare. “i was rooting for you, princess.”

“s-shut up, ‘kuna.” you’d gnaw on your bottom lip, and he stares at you with a smirk. knowing him, he’d probably reply with the obvious, ‘make me’ to which he did. as you made him lean back just a bit more, your hand ends up lightly going against his face.

sukuna’s stunned for a moment before he jibes. he brings both big hands towards the edges of your waist, pressing his thumbs into them before snarling lowly.

“hm. did you just slap me?” and whilst he said that, you felt yourself pulse — not a heartbeat but a familiar pulse that was located between your legs. not waiting for an answer, he snickers, grabbing your chin once more before he spats, “oh. don’t look away from me now. do it again. ‘n just a heads up, if you’re gonna smack me at least do it harder, little girl.”

“i’m not gonna do it again because you’re gonna e-enjoy it.” you moaned, feeling him use his hands to make your hips rock against him again. it felt so good . . the stimulation, whilst you grind against him, your knees felt weak. each buckle, you heard an echoe through your ears ring the more and more you felt yourself getting close.

“yeah ‘m gonna e-enjoy it,” he mocks your little weak stutter, dragging a thumb towards your upper lip. he snickers, pulling you into a quick kiss before humming. “c’monnn, no eye contact either? such a shy baby.”

you continue to glare at him. making a cute attempt at moving your hips again — but he reached so deep inside your walls, that spot.

you let off a soft whine, feeling the curve of his dick stretch against your sweet cunt that never stopped gripping down on him. it was exceedingly sloppy, your arms that were thrown over his neck started to feel warm.

“f-fuckkk,” you’d bite your tongue, and sukuna just guffaws once more. he finds your behavior adorable and somewhat amusing.

he considers it cute on how you desperately tried to bite back your own moans, you throbbed at the continuous stares he gave you. such playful stares, he was waiting for it.

it was the way your legs were just about to give out — you felt an entire bundle of nerves brew up. up and up and up, you didn’t know how much longer you could have lasted.

“oh, boo. don’t make me fall asleep,” sukuna raises a brow, releasing an overly dramatic faux yawn. he was so cocky, purposely being in manspread for you. he parts his legs just a bit more and you moan. the heftiness of his cock pressing into you, it was enough to make your mouth salivate. “thought i trained my girl to not get so s—”

sukuna gets cut off once he feels your hips start to quicken and he chuckles, maintaining the same rough grip on your waist.

“mhm,” he huffs out, feeling gradually hasten. yet sukuna barely bats an eye, although . . that’s when you bring a hand to wrap around his neck. “choking me now? that’s k-kinda kinky.”

you watch as sukuna’s breathing hitch, and a sly smile spreads across his lips. he likes the feeling of your slender fingers wrapping around his throat. you give it a slight squeeze, and for a brief moment you watch his pearly fangs poke out. if he wasn’t amused, he was surely amused now.

sukuna doesn’t expect you to start laughing in his face now. he’s a bit caught off guard — the both of you were reaching such euphoric peaks at an unsteady pace, he intakes a single sharp breath before you murmur. “now look at you, ‘kuna. growing flustered ‘n all.”

“don’t … get too much of a swell head, brat,” he scoffs, and he was for sure flustered. a cute tinted pink color rises towards his face, and you felt his dick sporadically twitch inside of you. sukuna was definitely embarrassed. for once, he barely had a witty comeback, and he grips the fat of your ass before giving it a rough spank. “shut up ‘n finish.”

“don’t tell me what to do with a cute expression like that,” you giggle, the grip of your thumbs lingering a bit harder against his neck. sukuna snarls. you could tell you were irking his nerves, and he always let you. it pissed him off to say the least, sukuna casually gives you an eye roll and you smile. “you’re being the brat more than me.”

“watch how you speak to me girl,” he grumbles, and a small pout curls against his lips — it was cute, the curse trying to keep up his mean tough facade yet was melting right underneath you.

he loathed how much he enjoyed feeling your hands, the softness of your bare hands against his skin.

feeling you steadily jerk back and forth against him, a toe-curling orgasm right at the tip of your tongue, you moaned. sukuna buried his fingers into your skin, his right thigh idly bouncing underneath you. “mhm. try giving me dirty talk.”

“dirty talk?” you tease, softly stroking your thumb against the middle part of his neck. “you’re into that too, ‘kuna?”

“shut up woman,” he scoffs with puffed cheeks. he regrets even asking — yet you hum, leaning up close to him before giving him what you wanted. you imitated him earlier, smacking his temple gingerly yet with just enough roughness.

the last thing you expect was for a low needy moan to depart from his lips. “you gonna make a mess for me, sukuna?”

“f—fucking woman,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s starting to lose composure. the softness in your voice, the playfulness that ran underneath it. he’s stirring up your insides without a doubt, making your knees buckle and lock. as you straddle him, he could barely keep his hands gripped onto your waist. roughly attached like velcro.

sukuna’s breath, it became unsteady. this time you’re the one squeezing his chin, giggling at the way he tries to give you an irritated glare. “just make me cum.”

“okay baby.”

“call me that again ‘n see what happens.”

“aw baby, don’t be so stubborn.”

his eyes flicker towards you, and you were keen on getting on him annoyed. the grip your soaked pussy had on sukuna had him grow mute for a moment. just the mere squelches that loudly ricocheted from between your legs. the sweetened slick that ran against your slit, it had him locked. for a moment he’s seeing nothing but pure angelic stars. sukuna’s practically speechless, and he finds his rough hands tightly holding onto the mounds of your ass.

“f-fuck,” he huffs out, and his voice grows a tad bit lower. the baritone in it makes you pulsate. shockwaves started to coarse through his veins. it was a multitude of synonyms — heavily intense.

it makes his jaw tense and tighten, he bites down on his lip the moment he feels his balls nearly prepare to dunk inside of you. he was so thick, you had to angle yourself a certain way so he could hit each and every orifice of your gummy walls. every corner, every direct hit to make you moan tight against his ear. every crevice.

“c-cumming,” he throatily groans, his climax hitting him like a truck — the both of you ended up finishing at the same exact time, and sukuna’s eyes eventually do end up rolling back. he literally ate his words. he was on a plateau, a constant high. he swallows thickly, and you make your hips come to a halt once he starts to pour a hefty load into your cunt.

it was so much that it spilled out. all out of your folds, it was a mess. you wriggled your hips teasingly, getting over your orgasm yourself before running a finger down his chest. “tapping out on me, sukuna?”

“tch,” he growled, feeling that same hot flush rise towards his cheeks. he couldn’t deny though, he may have found himself a few favorite kinks. sukuna’s hooded eyes glare at you before his and flex and tense. “whatever, little girl. you—you win, this time.”

#★vegasbaby. #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader smut #anime smut #female reader

[saetoru]

underground fighter wriothesley who absolutely melts whenever you patch him up n place the softest kisses over his bruises n stuff :((

- 🦋 anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ WE, NOT I — WRIOTHESLEY.

contents. underground fighter! wriothesley, gn! reader (he gifts you flowers, perfume and a necklace though, so if that is fem! coded to you, there’s your warning), mentions of foster care and being orphaned (wriothesley), mentions of blood, bruises, and injuries (wriothesley), slight angst but overall fluff ending

money’s tight—has been for a while, actually. wriothesley doesn’t like to talk about it, doesn’t like to open up even though he knows you won’t think any less of him. but you notice the small things, always do.

it’s the way you buy groceries for two, the way he’s always over for dinner one way or another, the way he seems to spend more and more time at your place than his. money’s tight, even if he doesn’t like to admit it—and you could never force it out of him, but you think letting him stay with you while he can could help ease the burden of living even if a little.

he’s grateful—a little roundabout in the ways he shows it, but grateful all the same.

and then the presents start to come.

it’s small at first: those expensive macarons you like from that bakery, the bouquet of roses that couldn’t be cheap, a nice dinner he insists he can pay for every once in a while. and then it starts to get bigger: fancy tea from the side of town neither of you even think about shopping at, perfume from a brand you can’t even pronounce, a necklace that’s more than what you can afford yourself.

it starts out slow, and then all at once, wriothesley has what you imagine to be more money than he knows what to do with. because why else spoil you like this? why else blow money on things for you when he could be putting it towards himself?

not everyone gets to have a head start at life—wriothesley is proof of that. it’s hard, more than most people realize, to be orphaned so young and move through foster home after foster home. he’d gone to jail once too—he doesn’t talk about that either, and you never ask. it’s hard, more than anyone gives him credit for, to be knocked down by life so many times and make a living for yourself.

you can’t understand where the sudden change comes from, can’t pinpoint where along the line he started getting so comfortable. it’s not unwelcome, you would never want to watch him just barely scrap by, but it concerns you how he seems to have so much all at once.

and then you get your answer.

“what—what happened to you?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing the blood caked by his nose and around his knuckles. that’s the best of it, unfortunately—the gashes on his chest and the bruises somehow look even worse.

you’d consider him lucky that his ribs don’t seem cracked.

“just a fight,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes. wriothesley is a lot of things: resourceful, conniving at times, and braver than most. good at lying is not one of them, however—at least not with you. “just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“where were you, then?” you challenge, staring at him hard enough that he doesn’t have to meet your eyes to shuffle uncomfortably in his spot. he doesn’t answer. you’re almost fed up. “wriothesley,” you say in a warning tone.

there’s a sense of finality he doesn’t like.

“what happened to wrio, sweetheart? you’re killin’ me here, i come home to you all bruised up and you’re here beating me down harder—”

“wriothesley, i’m worried about you,” you whisper tiredly. it’s defeated—it’s almost helpless. he frowns, finally looking up at you from his place between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter.

“you don’t have to be,” he mumbles, “i can take care on my own. i always have.”

“there’s no being on your own when we’re together,” you shake your head. your hands fall to either side of your body, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “don’t you understand? neither of us is supposed to be on our own anymore—not when the other is here.”

“yeah,” he crosses his arms—you try to ignore the wince he lets out as he moves, “and now you’re not handling things on your own anymore. i’m carrying my weight. just need to fight a guy or two.”

“you’re carrying your weight by fighting?” you blink at the realization. he doesn’t look you in your eyes, keeping them trained on the floor again. “oh my god—is that what these are from? because….because you’re fighting some punks in the middle of the night? that’s illegal—and you could get in trouble again—”

he doesn’t seem to like being reminded of his past. that’s clear when he clicks his teeth and glares at you. “and what am i supposed to do, stay cooped up in your place and eat your food?” he asks bitterly, making your brows furrow.

“not necessarily, but you can—”

“what, so i just live paycheck to paycheck and shower at your place and sleep in your bed so my water and electricity bills aren’t too high for the month?”

“wrio—”

“i’m earning, aren’t i? what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal is this,” you wave your hand exasperatedly, tears welling up by the lash line of your eyes as you stare at his bruises with trembling lips, “look at you. it’s not worth it if you come back to me like this.”

“but i come back,” he mumbles, taking your hand—he kisses the knuckles, rubs a rough thumb over the smooth skin before laying your palm against his cheek and sighing. “i always come back.”

you love wriothesley—have since the day you met him, you think. he’s easy to fall for like that, to feel your stomach go in twists and knots every time he makes a sarcastic joke and throws you a charming smile. life has been tough on the man you love, unfairly so. it’s hit him harder and harder and pushed him back to his knees before he ever got a chance to fully stand up.

he’s hitting back, now. maybe in a more literal sense than you’d hoped, but….but maybe you can help him if you can’t change him. maybe you can keep the pieces together until the plaster holds and they’re not so fragile anymore.

“i don’t like seeing you hurt,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the broken skin on his cheekbone, “you don’t have to do all this. we were doing okay before that.”

we. he shudders at that. it’s always we and never i—even when you did all the heavy lifting. even when he was barely getting by and you were giving more than you should’ve had to, more than he should’ve needed. it’s always we. never i.

you and him.

“i know,” he melts, humming as your fingers thread into his tousled hair, scratching his scalp as he buries his face into your neck, “just let me save a bit more. and then i’ll do something real with myself. i promise.”

you pull away after a bit, taking in every bruise and every cut, every dry patch of blood and swollen patch of skin. it’s shaky at first, your voice when you finally speak.

“‘s all bruised,” you say quietly, running a finger over the marks littering his chest. he’s painfully still—doesn’t move a muscle as you lean in slowly and press a kiss to the purplish stain on his skin, gently trailing them to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. “you don’t deserve all this.”

“yeah?” he chuckles—its breathy, a little strained. your arms loop around his waist and bring him closer, “what a sweet thing,” he coos, “nobody ever treats me so gentle.”

you frown at that. the world is not gentle with wriothesley—you’ll have to be extra gentle to make up for it.

“you’ll be safe? you’ll pull out when it’s too much, right? and you’ll come back? without being too hurt, right? wrio, you can’t—”

“yeah, yeah, i got it,” he huffs, pressing his forehead to yours, letting your hands cup his cheeks. he leans closer to your touch, shudders as you slowly trace his cheek with your thumb, “just wait at home all pretty for me, yeah? i’ll bring you back something nice.”

“bring me back yourself in once piece,” you huff.

“done,” he smiles, “i’m strong, if you haven’t noticed.”

“yeah? explain this,” you challenge, pressing down on a bruise and making him wince.

“you should see the other guy,” he whines, burying his face back into your neck. you roll your eyes, there’s a scoff in your throat but a smile on your lips.

wriothesley is safe—for now, that’s all you can ask for.

“i love you,” you mumble, “so much. no matter what, okay?”

“no need to get so emotional on me, baby,” he chuckles—and then there’s a tightening of strong arms around your body, a kiss pressed delicately to your neck before a soft, “but i love you too” is murmured into your skin.

“i hope you’re ready to clean those cuts. they’ll sting for sure,” you grumble as you pull away. he grins—handsome, charming, yours.

“will you kiss them better?” he bats his lashes, making you snort.

“no.”

i might make this a reoccurring drabble series too idk yet. anyway you know what else he can beat up ?? this pussy ;)

#teepods.writings #drabbles. #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #wrio x reader #wrio x you #wrio fluff #wrio angst

[deadghosy]

Since your stuck I decided to help you out with the power of creativity!

How would characters of Hazbin Hotel react to Swan/Duck reader it's branching from penguin reader with how she got stuck in hell for a while

The power mainly focuses on them flying and wind magic ect!

REMINDER: REQUESTS ARE CLOSED‼️

HAZBIN HOTEL X DUCK! READER

Warning: yandere themes.

prompt: a common mistake made your life eventual as people started to fawn over you

You were supposed to be in heaven…BUT NOOOO, they sent you to hell because they mistook you for someone else. They could’ve just said they were full like a night club…

So now you are in a pond swimming around peacefully. But there’s always a man with a hat and an apple cane that comes to see you literally everyday. You don’t know who he is, but he got attached badly. He would bring bread and show you rubber ducks with an awkward smile.

You just go over to him and eat the bread. You never learned how to talk since birth since your mother abused you. Being jealous of your pure soul and natural beauty. She always told you to shush. Making the sour taste in your mouth sting to never talk.

Eventually the man introduced himself as Lucifer, that’s when it hit you that this man was the first fallen angel, and king of hell. He must have seen your eyes widen in shock. “You can understand me?” He asked you as he scratched under your beak making you lean in his touch. You nodded as he smiles showing his sharp teeth.

“That’s even bettter.” He said

Two days after that, you were literally sleeping when you woke up to feel two hands pick you up, it was Lucifer who cooed at your drowsy face as he takes you to a hotel. Were you finally getting a place to stay instead of outside?

“Listen, my daughter has a dream…to redeem sinners…I wanna believe in her, but our people chose to make hell this way.” He says with a somber look. He took you inside to see basically a female version of Lucifer but more cheery looking as she gasped at you. “Dad? Is that the duck you’ve been talking about?! Aww they’re soooo cute!” She says as she holds you.

And that’s your story of how now you are basically part of the hotel’s family.

I imagine you just getting prince/princess treatment everyday from the hotel and Lucifer himself as he literally trims your duck fur as you just sit there on a fancy ass pillow.

I headcannon that angel dust buys you shades a lot because your yellow/white feathers is so majestic, he just had to make you even more bad ass.

Angel dust loves how high headed you are, not letting anyone tear you down even with a word. He admires you, so he wants you to admire him as well.

I headcannon for you to deadass have an attitude when bothered. Literally Alastor wanted to see what was so special about you. And so he woke you up from your beauty sleep making you go haywire on him.

You pecked him as he tried to hit you, possibly trying to injure you only to injure himself as he came out pissed off with a smile. He definitely spit out a feather as you quacked out a laugh as if this shit was looney tunes.

Charlie always rants to you about her days and how her and vaggie’s relationship is going. Charlie was notified by her father that you can understand her. She doubted it at first, but when you actually nodded she gasped shocked with stars in her eyes.

You and Charlie grew close…to the point she was almost like her father. Constantly checking up on you, feeding you. Watching you. You tried to push it off…but it was kinda unsettling.

You could obviously fly, which you do around the hotel to spread your wings. But when you fly you have a glowing yellow light around you.

I can see you just chilling at the bar as residents come in and out as you just get petted as husk grumbles a little and also pets you. Husk was immediately enchanted by your soft duck feathers

You love to make small tornados at sinners who cause trouble in the hotel. You are the hotel’s duck, so you must at least protect the guests at least.

Vaggie is the one to always make sure to research what ducks eat before making sure you can eat them. She likes how you make everyone feel fuzzy and warm inside. Even her.

You damn well hated that you died into a duck body..but it felt nice knowing that you couldn’t just live the possible human or at least whatever you are. Demon or angel. You could possibly be in a pond sleeping and eating bread all damn day.

I imagine Sir Pentious had put a top hat on you that’s similar like the ones his egg boiz wear. So he loves to have you around when he builds things.

You doze off like this and it’s so cute to the point they will record and take a picture of you. (If you don’t wanna click link, it’s a duck nodding its head off until it goes limp since the duck is tired)

I headcannon Alastor to hate you at first and want to cook you for duck stew, but then he falls in love with how entertaining and smart you are. You technically aren’t just a mere duck.

I can see you just making small hurricanes in your bath tub when niffty has to wash you. You once accidentally splashed her. But she chuckled splashing you.

A sinner once tried to take you from the hotel’s pond that Lucifer made for you only be found 30 secs later taking you.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TOUCHING MY DUCKLING?!” Lucifer yells angrily at the sinner who got knocked flat on their ass. His demon form was coming out as fire spits out his mouth when he huffed.

You did a comedic side eye at Lucifer who was acting possessive as hell itself. You didn’t even know what to do as this man kept holding you like a pet duck you seen fat white men do in the streets.

The sinner didn’t live after that.

I can see husk just petting you softly and then eventually just falling asleep on your body. Like his head is on your body as you just watch hell tv as he snores. Oddly comfortable in your soft feathers.

You literally waddle around the hotel wearing a cute scarf with your favorite color. Alastor oddly knitted it for you like a old grandma to their grandchild 😭

I imagine you just side eyeing Lucifer as he suddenly had the urge to read more information about ducks and how their eggs look. So imagine how Lucifer would act if you pregnant. But the thing is, you rather die then be in pain in birth.

Lucifer makes you a lot of blue things to remind you of a pond since that was the place you chill in a lot. It was to the poke Charlie and Lucifer nodded to make you a pond in the backside of the hotel. It’s your little chill haven.

You felt pissy one day because your feathers were molting..so the wind outside was heavy cause your feathers were just falling and you hated it. You felt insecure but the crew felt your feelings and started to cheer you up. Soon or later, your new feathers came back quickly.

The Vee’s had definitely notice your presence since you first came here. I mean who the hell looks like a damn duck down here with pure beautiful feathers that remind them of so called heaven.

I can see the Vee’s and you having the relationship where it’s basically like team rocket and pikachu type troupe. 😭 they always fail trying to kidnap you because you literally put out ducks that look like you and they fall for it, EVERY SINGLE TIME-

I headcannon you have a ribbon your favorite color wrapped around your neck like a bow or collar with your name on it❤️

Vox had literally set his drone to spy on you as he watches with a sick grin at how adorable and elegant you looked just swimming in your sweet pond and how you just outsmart Alastor. 

Imagine how badass you are to suddenly turn big in size because the hotel was being threatened. So you literally grew in a size of the hotel building and flapped your wings to fly them bitches to who knows nowhere.

If you were on the same branch, you would definitely be the older sister of penguin! Reader if it was lore type shit 😭 you don’t play no games about your emotions as you are always observing

LOL IMAGINE YOU WADDLING TO GO TO THE BATHROOM LIKE A HUMAN AND THE EGG BOIZ JUST FOLLOW AFTER YOU AS IF YOU WERE THEIR MOTHER-

The Vee’s definitely sneak on you by Vox’s drone that swarms around your pond without your knowledge.

Velvette literally sends you nice outfits your size. Literally cute outfits where the holes are for your wings so you can fly and look drippy as hell.

See I could definitely imagine you sneaking out the hotel to just get hooked up with your new outfit stylist which is Velvette now.

Vox

Imagine how cold the state duck! Reader has (hear me out, edit audio type shit starts playing-)

I can see you just swimming and Lucifer takes a picture of you, admiring your beauty in place as you just flock around your damn pond. “That’s my baby….” He says wiping a dramatic tear from his eyes.

Valentino. Now I won’t say he would be obsessed romantically but more platonically as he would love for you to be part of his life as his pet only. Like an actual pet he would take care of.

I headcannon Alastor actually tried to feed you some bread…and you accepted it making Alastor smile wildly at how you trusted him getting close to you for one.

Lmao you literally did some Wingardium Leviosa ass shit on someone because you didn’t like how they looked at you 😭

You literally are so coddled and spoiled…it was to the point you would be walking or more like waddling down the damn streets alone and people would aw at your beauty and gracious. It’s overwhelming, but at least you know people won’t fuck with you.

But people just never learnt to keep their hands off of a beautiful creature.

Once Adam got sent down to find an angel that was suppose to be in heaven. He didn’t except for you to be a fuckin duck. So he laughed and took you up with ease as you quacked furiously, trying to get at least someone’s attention.

It was too late as Lucifer sees you get flown up into the heaven portal. Lucifer dropped the tray of lemonade in shock to see his beloved flying into the portal. Lucifer felt his heart squeeze knowing that the bastard knew he couldn’t get into heaven.

Lucifer quickly spout out his wings and fly sharply towards adam’s fading figure. Adam snickers seeing Lucifer’s anger in his glowing red eyes. He turned around and waved you around to taunt Lucifer as you had a “I don’t have time for this…” face. Literally you pecked Adam’s face and hands making Adam spazz out and throw you at Lucifer’s face.

“FINE! TAKE YOUR DUMB ASS DUCK!” Adam yells as he flies off grumbling about making you into duck stew

So Lucifer was happy with a derpy expression and calmed down holding you. He got even more protective as he makes sure you are watched 24/7. He wanted to give you freedom…but after that stunt Adam did. He’s not letting anyone touch you without his permission. Of course his daughter can though!

But what if Adam had succeeded in his capture of you, things would be most likely how it was in hell….just more clean and healthy.

St. Peter definitely greeted you with a warm smile as you didn’t….you didn’t like how he just sassed you and let you fall to hell. So of course it was rocky, but soon or later you two got along since he brides you with bread. He soon gets obsessed with how you get so trusting over things. He uses that to his advantages.

Sera greets you with open arms, literally as she picks you up. Cooing at your pure yellow/white feathers that matches the aesthetic of heaven. You match perfectly here as your angel form is two pair of wings. Your normal duck wings and angel wings. You are the most beautiful angel she ever met and laid eyes on as she shows you around heaven. Every part and area of it. This shall be your new home.

Emily won’t be a crazyyy person over you. As I can see her being a light hearted person who doesn’t love bomb you in a manipulative manner but only wants to be your friend in a loving way. She finds you amazing at how smart and caring you are towards her as you visit her and she visits you back. She brings you every bread know to man and heaven as she noticed you like bread. You and her are clearly amazing friends to each other.

The Angels adore your every movement as if you were also a god/godesss. You were confused at this attention. It was way more overwhelming when you were in hell with the others. Just like how the penguin! Reader was, you made a social media account and half of heaven followed you. It was an insane amount of followers that you didn’t mean to have. But the angels love to greet you as you fly/walk by. With you being so graceful here, who wouldn’t say you belonged here.

Adam most definitely is possessive and always manipulates you into thinking he is superior. He forces himself to be your caretaker, he literally makes you stay in his place all day and all time watched over. He feels the need to control your very bidding and movement as this dickhead degrades you to make you feel useless. It sometimes works, but sometimes doesn’t. 

Lute is a controlling person who sees your intelligence as a threat as she wants to break you into her clasp. She’s the second most controlling than Adam. But she’s an overwhelming controlling as she wants you you to see her as your protector and person you can be dependent on at all times. She wants you to be able to tell her everything you know so she can just please you.

Adam finds it amusing at how you got use it heaven so quick despite this new attention. You literally sit on his lap napping as he lounges on the couch. Basically watching sports or whatever.

You can’t help but think, “why am I even surprised.”

#ducks #duck! reader #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel yandere #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x duck! reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vees #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel hell #adam x reader #hazbin lute #lute x reader

[tasteracha]

kinktober - day one

kink: breeding kink with chan

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. talk of birth control. unprotected sex. afab!reader.

the thing is, you don’t even want kids. or at least, not right now, not in the place in life you were. you’re sure that if you ever did end up wanting kids that you would want them with chan though, the most perfect and gentle soul with the perfect balance of sweet and spicy that you would love to see passed down the genetic line. even so, it doesn’t explain why the thought of him spilling inside of you and filling you up to the brim makes you shiver in unabridged desire.

it’s a thought that you’ve kept to yourself until now. for all of his quick jokes and dirty humor, chan is pretty tame in bed - he knows what he likes, what you like, and rarely strays from it. he’s always been willing to try new things, whether it results in the best fuck of your combined lives or with the two of you giggling all over each other, but for some reason this one is different.

it’s only after he’s pulled out two orgasms from you, one with his fingers and the other with his mouth, that you let it slip out right as he’s slipping himself into you. 

“oh, fuck,” you grunt, bearing down on chan’s dick as he bottoms out. “knock me up baby, come on.”

“wait, really?” he stops moving just as he’s almost pulled out, mouth gaped open, leaving your core pulsing around nothing and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “i just mean, we haven’t talked about it, shouldn’t we get married firs-”

“no not really, i’m on birth control, dumbass,” you raise yourself up, glutes on fire as you try and fuck yourself on his cock, taking the both of your breaths away for a moment. “it’s just really hot to imagine. now fill me up with your babies, please.”

you don’t know if it’s your tone or your words, crude as they were, but his eyes harden just a bit and he slams his hips down with enough force that yours press up against the mattress again, making you see stars. 

“how can i deny you anything when you ask so nicely?” he says, punctuating every other word with a harsh thrust and you for a moment you can’t even remember what he was talking about with the way your thoughts are tangled up.

“you’d give me anything, hmm?” your voice comes out in whisps, your breath utterly taken away by him. 

he gets a bit animalistic then, like he’s trying to get into the mood, to match you on your level at his own pace - which seems to be fast, if the way he’s drilling into you like a jackhammer has anything to say about it. 

“you’re going to look so good with my baby inside of you,” he rubs at your lower belly before pushing down, stimulating you from either side as he continues fucking into you so slowly. he’s finally letting himself lean into it, the logic that he was trying to work around suddenly forgotten in lieu of ramming into you like he would die if he stopped. 

“come on,” you twist your hips a bit, letting him hit new spots within you that send your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “come in me, you can do it baby.”

you know you won’t be able to come again until you feel his release inside of you, costing your walls like a painting. you continue urging him, sweet words in his ears and whispered encouragements that make his arms tighten just a little bit more around you until he comes with a growl. his movements go slack, little aborted thrusts, and he buries his head into your neck just as you come around his length. 

it takes the two of you several moments to come down from your highs, the sound of your panting covering the entire room.

“no!” you cry out almost involuntarily when he moves to pull out, the slightest budge that causes some of the cum inside of you to slip out. your hands grasp at his hips, holding him against you and the movement drives him further inside of you than he had been all night. you shake in oversensitivity, the tiny drag of him against your walls burning so good.

he’s not entirely unaffected either, shown by the way he all but collapses on top of you. he’s covering you completely, his weight on top of you and his softening cock inside of you a comfort. 

“do you think it took?” he massages at your belly, right where his cock was. if you weren’t also as hazy as him, you might have snarked back at him about how it’s very unlikely that it did, but any comment you might have made fizzled out with one look at his dazed face. his eyes were soft, clouded over a bit and he had a small smile on his face as he looked up at you from where his head was resting on your chest. 

kinktober masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #bang chan smut #kinktober 2023 #bang chan imagines #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x reader #skz imagines

[tragedybunny]

My Starry Sky - Astarion x F!Reader

Reader and Astarion have their first real argument and have to go through the aftermath.

“Come to bed early, spend some time with me?” Astarion whispered in your ear, crimson eyes still a bit watery.

There wasn’t any other answer to give. “Of course love,” you took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, desperate to reassure him after what had happened earlier.

Going into this, you knew how he could be, how he lashed out sometimes, and why. That hadn’t made the first time he directed it at you after your mutual confession any easier. Maybe you had thought finally sharing your feelings would change that part of him, a selfish wish. “Damn it, are you just going to ignore me all day!” He snapped at you on the road, drawing questioning looks from your other companions.

“What?” You’d turned back to him, confusion knitting your brows together.

“You heard me.” Around you, you could sense everyone stepping away, wisely giving the two of you space, despite the fact that you were in a desolate, cursed place. The locale was probably not helping the tension.

“I’m not ignoring you!” The first mistake you made in that conversation, a sharp tone, fire returned.

“So I’m just imagining that you’ve hardly said two words to me for hours but have been more than happy to prattle on with everyone else.” He doubled down, and you could tell he wasn’t going to hear you. “Or you're lying.”

The accusation stung, did he think so little of you? Maybe this was all a mistake. And just like that, all the worries, the struggles, and this blasted place boiled over, and you were the one who lashed out. “This isn’t going to work, we’re not going to work, if you’re going to act like this!” The second mistake.

Eyes going wide, his posture changed in an instant. It was like he tried to make himself smaller, to get away from the pain of your words. “Please no, I’m sorry.” His voice shook and if he had any need of breathing he would have been gasping. “Gods, I’ve already ruined it.” Tears had started to spill down his cheeks.

With horror, you realized what you’d done. You’d threatened him into compliance, even if you had done so out of hurt. Were you no better than Cazador? In a rush, you threw your arms around him pulling him close, frantic to relieve the hurt you’d caused. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” After a second of hesitation, you felt his arms encircle you as he sniffled into your hair. "That was wrong of me."

It took a few moments of soft whispers and soothing until he would let you go. "Let's just forget this," you prompted and he readily agreed.

The hurtful words and accusations stuck with you though and you excused yourself as soon as dinner was over. Taking you by the hand, Astarion leads you to his tent, where you'd been sleeping most nights lately. With a soft gasp, you note small enchanted motes of light, dancing at the top of the tent. "Gale's work," you ask, staring at them with enchantment.

"I don't want to know what he's going to ask me in return," he chuckles but it’s strained and struggling.

“At least he’s not looking for magic to eat anymore.” With a quick brush of your lips against his cheek, you lower yourself down to the waiting nest of blankets the two of you spend your nights wrapped around each other in. Your hand still in his pulls him along with you.

An open bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting and you readily take one after he pours it. The two of you sit close enough that shoulders and thighs touch, a small comfort after the harshness of the day, and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” Desperately, you want him to know it, even with all the complications, you sincerely love him.

“I know,” he finishes the glass of wine, and you note that he seems off still. “I love you too,” he pours another and drinks deeply. It was a rough day all around though, and you don’t want to push it.

Moments later you’re surprised as a pale, slender hand reaches down to tilt your chin up off his shoulder and kiss you. The taste of the wine lingers on his lips and you drink in the intimacy of it on your tongue. Your glass is taken from your grasp as the kiss deepens, lips parting invitingly to him. Hands wrap around your waist and your stomach flutters, you’ve missed being touched like this by him. A trail of soft bites is traced from your lips down your neck as his hands work their way under your shirt caressing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Reaching up, you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a soft moan escapes you. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs against your throat and your blood runs cold.

That isn’t him, he sounds a thousand miles away, and so empty. “I thought you weren’t ready for this.”

A thumb brushes over a nipple and his teeth dig into your flesh just hard enough to thrill. You swallow the cry you almost make, not wanting to encourage this. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on, let go of the past,” his voice tremors and you can tell he’s lying even as he tries to kiss you again.

“Astarion, stop,” gently you push him away and see the panic in his face. “Why are you doing this?”

He looks anywhere but right at you, eyes hazy and unfocused “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Astarion…”

He sighs heavily, breaking down at last. “Well, I thought after today, perhaps you were tiring of me, and that I should do something to win you back. And I can’t seem to get this right either.”

Pain slices through your chest and you feel as though your heart is being torn in two. Carefully, you put your hands on his cheeks. “Look at me,” it’s not a command, but a plea, and he finally brings his eyes to yours. “I love you, and I’m not going to tire of you. Understand?” Wordlessly he nods. “But you are never to try to buy me again with your body, you are worth so much more than that.” A loving kiss on his forehead punctuates your words and you hear him sniffling again.

“I can try, it is so hard to leave behind.” Arms open, you beckon him to you, and you both collapse into the waiting blankets. “It feels like the only thing I know, the only thing I’m good for. And I just want to keep you but I don’t know how else to do it sometimes.”

“Just love me, that’s all I need.” You yearn for nothing but to cover him in soft kisses and hold him forever, so he can know how loved he is, how cherished. “My Starry Sky.”

With his face buried in your neck, he murmurs softly, sounding like his true self again, “my Sunlight.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing

[lewisvinga]

doctor! doctor! | lando norris x fem! reader x oscar piastri !

summary; the average life of a med student dating not one, but two f1 drivers

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; cursing, suggestive comment

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

notes; requested ! as a nursing major, i <3 anything to do w the reader being in the medical field ! also didn’t realize for the messages lando is just ‘lando’ so pretend his contact is ‘lan<33’😭😭😭

masterlist !

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; my boys sending me selfies so i don’t lose my mind today 🧡🧡] [caption 2; reason why i’m losing my mind; my first med school exam🤓]

landonorris replied to your story !

landonorris u literally graduated top of ur class, u can do this 🧡🧡🧡

yourusername why’d i have to be so passionate abt this career 😔

landonorris bc ur super duper smart !

landonorris osc and i miss you!! ( he won’t admit it but he’s sad you’re not w us😒 )

yourusername i miss my boys too ☹️ ( he does this every time )

landonorris he wants to act so cool 🙄🙄

yourusername well tell him spring break is in 2 months and i’ll be able to attend at least one (1) race this semester 😕

landonorris as much as i wish you can see us more often, you gotta go help save lives !

yourusername and i gotta study so i can go save lives !😣

landonorris: good luck ! liked by yourusername !

oscarpiastri replied

oscarpiastri that latte looks sick😯

yourusername stfu i know ur sad that i’m missing so many races this season😒

oscarpiastri lando told you ?

yourusername yes u don’t have to act all cool or whatvr 🙄

yourusername my spring break is in 2 months, i’ll be able to go to a race then !😁

oscarpiastri 2 months TOO LONG💔

oscarpiastri and go study u have an exam in 3 days 🙄🙄

yourusername STOP I’M TRYING TO AVOID IT

yourusername nvm just remembered i dont know anything, i’ll facetime u and lan later? okay???

oscarpiastri already waiting !

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others !

yourusername: a week filled with clinicals, studying, cheering for my favorite boys, and more studying !

tagged; yourbestfriend, friendone, friendtwo, oscarpiastri, landonorris

landonorris: oscarpiastri look at our girl studying to be a future life saver 🥹🥹

oscarpiastri: soooo smart, future dr. l/n🧡

yourusername: i love & miss you both sm☹️

landonorris: doctor! doctor! i’m injured and i need help!

yourusername: not a doctor yet lan

landonorris: shhh play along

oscarpiastri: don’t he’s being mean to me

landonorris: LIAR!!

oscarpiastri: why’d u get black coffee u never do

yourusername: bold of u to assume i didn’t get a latte after trying yourbestfriend americano

yourbestfriend: you’re studying to be a DOCTOR, how do u not like black coffee

yourbestfriend: dawg who let us study to be doctors 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣

yourusername: LMFAOOO

friendone: stay healthy guys , ur future doctors are currently making tiktoks instead of studying

friendtwo: like studying wasn’t making u lose ur mind too !!

username: y/n studying to be a doctor is so sick

username: ur the coolest wag

username: bro i’m a nursing student and i’m dyinggggg idk how u do med school

yourusername: me neither tbh

username: imagine studying to be a DOCTOR and BOTH of ur bfs are f1 drivers, that’s actually insane

username: i wanna be u

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; my loves 🧡always cheering for you both 🫂🧡] [caption 2; time for clinicals 😣 ( will watch race highlights after sigh )]

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; finally in my happy place after weeks and weeks of studying and clinicals 🤍🤍] [caption 2; my pretty boys 🫶 can’t wait to be a doctor and see them in the er from doing stupid shit🧡🧡🧡 ( stop jumping on the bed before one of you hurt your head PLEASE) ]

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #lando norris smau #lando norris scenarios #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Life Lessons || CL16

Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed

WC: 2.9k

Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.

He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.

Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.

“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”

“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”

“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”

Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”

“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”

Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.

—

Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.

He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.

“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”

You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.

“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”

“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”

“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.

“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”

“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”

—

Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.

He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.

His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.

“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.

You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”

“A-anatomy?” he stammered.

You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”

His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”

His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”

“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.

“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”

“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.

“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”

He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”

“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”

“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”

The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.

“You’re a good student,” you praised.

“I have a good teacher.”

You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”

His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”

He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”

“I thought that was a myth.”

“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”

He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.

“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”

Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.

“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.

“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.

You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”

You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”

Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”

Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.

“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.

“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”

This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.

“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”

Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.

“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.

His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.

“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”

He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”

Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.

“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”

“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.

You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”

He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”

He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.

Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”

You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.

“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”

He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.

“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”

He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”

“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”

He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”

“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut