#does he look like his face claim? maybe

[syninplays]

Not that anyone cares but here’s Finnr’s brand new face :p - reshaped his eyes and eyebrows a bit and still *don’t* know if he looks more like Arnas or not but I like him so much I don’t care 💕💕

[pankomako]

sometimes media serves as an example of what NOT to do. now i say this thinking about a streamer committing too much time to an impossible task when he has more important things to do but genuinely this goes for a lot of media and people need to remember that

[wwwbestgoredotcom]

Francis Mosses NSFW A-Z ♡♡

I love him <33

Reader is gn but has female anatomy.

A-ftercare (What're they like after sex)♡

Very very tired. Everything he says afterwards is either slurred or murmured. Very cuddly tho. Will not let you go. Very sappy afterwards too; telling you he loves you and how pretty and perfect you were/are.

Takes him a second to do it but eventually gets up to get you some water while you go to the bathroom (always pee after sex!).

B-ody part (favorite body part on you & him)♡

On you, he loves your hands and lips. He holds your hand a lot during sex even if hes absolutely destroying you. And he loves your lips because he just likes kisses (and how they look wrapped around his dick). Between tits or ass tho, I think he'd prefer boobs (not pun intended). Even if their small, he looves them.

On him, he'd say his hands are his favorite. He likes the way the have so much effect on you. Like when he fingers you or grabs onto your hips or thighs or when he grabs your hand during sex.

C-um (anything to do w cum basically)♡

I think he'd prefer to cum on your stomach or ass. Though I do think he'd cum inside every once in a while. When you suck him off, he let's you take control of his dick tbh. If you want him to cum all over your face, then he will. If you want it in your mouth, then he will. If you want it on your boobs, he will. He just wants to please you fr.

D-irty secret ♡

I feel like he'd have plenty of them. A main one tho is that he's stolen one of your panties and jerked off with them before. He felt guilty afterwards so that was the only time he did that. The others are small enough for him to forget about it

E-xperience (his past experiences)

♡

I feel like he had NO BITCHES before you came (tee hee) along. He was a quiet kid and just focused on himself, maybe had a couple gfs and intimate moments but you're probably the first "real deal" to come into his life in terms of love.

F-avorite position ♡

He'd like the classics. Like missionary, cowgirl, doggie, etc etc. He'd probably like missionary and cowgirl most. Missionary because of the intimacy. Cowgirl bc sometimes he wants some but he's tired (and boobs).

G-oofy (how serious/unserious are they during sex)♡

He's pretty in the middle. Sometimes he likes to slowly fuck you while you two have a normal conversations so sometimes there's jokes thrown in there. But if it's rougher/faster, he's more serious.

H-air (what kind of hair they got down there)♡

I think he trims it. Keeps it tame. He doesn't shave it clean tho, unless you tell him to, then he might. For the rest of his body, he does have some hair but not a lot.

I-ntimacy ♡

Oh this boy is INTIMATE. The kind of mf that looks at sex like "love-making" instead of just "fuck". Loves praising and listening to what you say. You say harder and he goes harder, you say slower and he goes slower, etc etc. Most of the sex you two have will most likely be when he's tired/half awake so all the praise and such are slurred in such a beautiful way yk.

J-ack off (how often does he jack off)♡

Other than what I said in the dirty secret section, he doesn't really do it anymore. Why imagine you when he has you right there?

K-inks ♡

Praise - he likes receiving and giving praise. He likes talking you through it, telling you how good you feel and how much he loves you.

Marking - he'd like to leave hickeys on you, not for a way to "claim" you, but just because he wants to and he likes your reaction to it when I sucks on your sweet spots.

Overstimulation - he likes to BE overstimulated. Sometimes he wants to keep going but his body doesn't or he's too tired so he just begs you to just ride him til he cries or passes out.

Nipple play - he likes to pinch and massage your boobs a lot. Even if you're not having sex, his hand lives on your boob. Most of your foreplay is him sucking and nibbling on your nipple, pinching your other one while he fingers you.

L-ocation (their favorite locations to do it)♡

I feel like he'd only want to do it at home. He doesn't like public stuff. At home tho, he'd do it anywhere; on the dinner table, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room, anywhere. He could do it in the car tho. Maybe if he gets too worked up after a date and your apartment is too far away.

M-otivation (what turns him on)♡

Tbh. Everything. Skin tight shirts, your sleepwear (no matter what it is), etc. He likes when you take care of him too, just loving him turns him on.

N-o (some turn offs)♡

I'm so sorry yall but I think he'd say no to bdsm. Like maybe SOME parts of it he can do but like hard-core bdsm is a no.

He wouldn't want to actually hurt you in any way. Spanking is ok if it's not full force but like actually causing you pain is a no.

And he wouldn't like shit with pee, poop, and vomit. Shits nasty.

O-ral ♡

Oh bro. He EATS. Man can eat you out for hourss if you let him. He was a little shit at eating pussy at first but with more practice, he gets better and better. Like I'm talking about EATING pussy. There's no kitten licking with him, he is in. There.

And he loves when you suck him off. He talks while you do but they're all murmurs so no one knows what he's saying. He fucks your face gently (unless you tell him you want it rough) everytime. Mutters praises all throughout it and let's out of raspy moan when he cums.

P-ace ♡

Unless he's dead tired, he goes at whatever pace you want. When he's dead tired he wants to go slow and sensual. But if he had energy, he'll go at whatever pace you want him to go at. He starts off slow but if you tell him to go harder and harder he will beat that pussy numb.

Q-uickie (opinions on quickies)♡

I think he'd want to take his time with you so quickies are eh to him. If you seriously cannot wait but you can't leave wherever you are for too long, he'll take you somewhere private to eat you out till you're satisfied (or suck him off until he's satisfied).

He will leave an event for the day to have sex with you tho. If it gets that bad.

R-isk♡

To keep it short, he'd be down for experimenting as long as it's not in his "no" list.

S-tamina ♡

Again, depends on you. If you wanna ride him till the sun comes up, he'll thug it out for you. He likes overstimulation anyway. But tbh he rlly only goes for 2 rounds until you have to take over.

T-toys (toys they own)♡

I don't think he has any toys for himself. And he wouldn't really care if you had your own toys. He's fucked you with your toys before; like a vibrator up to your clit while he fucks you or a dildo in you while he sucks on your clit.

U-nfair (do they tease? And how often)♡

He doesn't really edge or tease you, but when he does, it's on accident. Sometimes he pulls out to cum on your stomach and accidently edges you. He doesn't mind when you do it to him. Feels good.

V-olume (how loud are they during sex)♡

Loud asf. Like I said, he talks during it, like murmuring and slurring his words. He's a moaner and whimperer too. Occasionally groaning but not really.

He LOVES when you're loud tho. He encourages it actually. Turns him on more.

W-ild card ♡

To add onto "volume", he talks dirty so much, even if it's under his breath. Like omfg the filth that comes out of his mouth is so unexpected.

Also, the amount of times you two were getting rough with it and he got that phone call (ykwim), he doesn't stop. He slows down a bit but just continues while you struggle to not blow you're cover.

X-ray (what's in those pants)♡

He's pretty average. Long, kinda thin, a vein on the top of his shaft from the base to the middle of it. He's about 6-7 inches, and he knows how to use it. Tbh I can't decide whether he's circumcised or not so you can personally decide that.

Y-earning (how high/low is his sex drive)♡

Surprisingly high. He's down to fuck whenever. Unless he's literally about to knock out cold. But if he's awake then so is his dick. He barley asks for sex tho, he wants YOU to initiate it. He just gives hints.

Z-zz (how fast he goes to sleep)♡

Like I said before, he's literally so tired afterwards. Once he makes sure you're okay and comfy, he snuggles close to you and sleeps.

I love him your honor.

[alastorss]

I really enjoyed the "touching Alastor's antlers" fic! Good stuff! I was wondering if I could request reader playing with his hair and braiding it maybe? Thanks for being great! Drink water and eat a snack :p

a/n: hello!! thank you for your kind words ^ ^ i hope you enjoy this fluff!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor can't pinpoint when exactly you developed such a strange habit of playing with his hair.

He first noticed it when Angel started giving him funny looks, pointing out the braids in his hair and that they were rather charming. Of course, the Radio Demon was quick to dismiss the star's claims that they suited him.

After that, he began finding little braids in his hair with or without others seeing them first. Like, for example, he would see them when he was dressing in the morning and peering into a mirror. Or other times he would see his reflection in his deep mug of coffee. They were less of a nuisance and more of a mystery than anything.

It had to be your work, surely. No one else would ever think to do something so pointless to him. And if this were some weak attempt to humiliate him in front of his peers, anyone else wouldn't have dared.

However, he never had any real evidence that it was you messing with him.

He should probably do something about it. It would be bad for his reputation if word got out that he kind of liked the delicate work of your fingers.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Once he's had enough of the mystery, Alastor decides to catch you in the act.

He turns his back to you on purpose, hogging the blankets as he always does, and pretends to be asleep. And just as he expected, your hands are in his hair less than ten minutes later.

Glaring at the wall, he lets you finish whatever it is you've done to his locks before he suddenly spins around in the bed to face you.

Satisfaction fills him as you yelp, scooting back in the sheets and sitting upright fast as lightning.

"You were awake?!"

Alastor just stares at you with narrow, unamused eyes.

"So it is you!"

You swallow loudly, nervously fidgeting with the blanket as the demon sits up in bed beside you. He scrutinizes your reaction, how shy you look, and his smile softens.

"It helps me sleep," you admit awkwardly. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers, unable to meet his eyes.

Alastor sighs with an exasperated shake of the head. "You simply could have told me, darling. No need to keep such a silly little thing a secret."

You perk up at his words. "You don't mind?"

He minds less than he'd like to admit, really. It also explains why he's been the little spoon so often lately.

"Not at all."

You breathe a slow sigh of relief before you're dragged into his arms. He lets you mess around with his hair that night, too. And he stays up a bit longer until your hands fall limp against the pillow beside his head.

The next day, Angel is surprised to see that the oh-so-feared Overlord has quite a few braids left in his hair.

He decides they suit him after all.

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling (send an ask to be added!)

[lemonlover1110]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄!

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff, Razors, Shaving

Summary: Toji refuses to shave, and his girlfriend refuses to kiss him. She takes matters into her own hands to kiss her boyfriend's beautiful face again.

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji has to shave at least once per week, or else kissing him becomes a hassle. Toji’s problem is that he’s lazy, and he doesn’t like to shave. He claims it’s a waste of time and energy, and you argue about it because it prickles on your skin when you kiss… Or do anything else.

Yet, Toji complains when you refuse to kiss him. Throughout the day you randomly kiss him, something that the man has grown accustomed to, but when you notice a stubble, you avoid it. Toji notices the lack of love, and he hates it. He isn’t the tender one in your relationship, but during the sudden decline of affection, he tries to be. However, when Toji tries to kiss you, you put your hand over his mouth.

“You need to shave.” You tell him, and he frowns. You have no idea what you’ve done by declining his kiss– Oh, you’ve started a battle that you cannot end.

Rejecting his kiss is a sin in his eyes, and he’ll make sure you repent. He’ll let his facial hair grow, and you assure him that you won’t kiss him until he shaves. One of you will give up after some time without kissing, and he’s sure that it’ll be you. He won’t kiss you until you agree to kiss him with a beard (a stubble since at the bare minimum he trims it, he isn’t sure that a beard is the look for him).

He’s right, you’re a weak weak woman. By the second week, you want to jump on him and give him all your love. But he won’t listen to your pleads of shaving. You take matters into your own hands after a month.

“What’s that?” Toji asks, eyes looking up from his phone to find you holding a white plastic bag. Maybe he wouldn’t ask if you weren’t dangling it in front of him. You grab his hand and attempt to pull him up from the couch, and he stands up, a bit reluctantly. He smirks as you lead him to the bedroom, commenting, “I like where this is going.”

But then you take him to the bathroom, and force him to sit on the toilet. You get two things out of the plastic bag: shaving cream and a razor. He furrows his eyebrows before shaking his head, “I’m not doing it.”

“But I am.” There’s a certain look on your face, and he doesn’t dare challenge you because he knows that if he does, your relationship might come to an end. 

You open the faucet, and you splash cold water on his skin, causing him to jump up a little. You get shaving cream all over his beard, before you grab the razor. You swipe the razor in an upward movement on his skin, and he whines, “If you’re going to do this, at least be careful and don’t cut me.”

You cut him again, and he whines again. It takes a couple more cuts before he grabs the razor from you, and goes to the mirror to do it himself. You smile at him through the mirror, and he swears it’s a demonic smile. You got what you wanted in the end.

You watch every movement through the mirror, and when Toji is finished, you squish his face. Toji scowls, and you peck his lips. You kiss him over and over again, and his face softens. You kiss his cheeks and all over his face. He would almost hate that you’ve won, if you weren’t so loving.

“I love kissing your little face.” You take a break between kisses before continuing, and Toji smiles. He has to push you off, although he’s a bit disappointed at his own actions. He wants to let you kiss him all day long, but he can’t. He has to interrupt you. 

He says, “I have to grab some bandaids.”

[visionsofmagic]

❝screaming another man’s name while being fucked by him❞

including: zoro, luffy, sanji, shanks [opla versions]

―❛ nsfw, brat!reader, f!reader, possessive behaviour, chocking (kinda), licking, different positions, daddy kink, swearing, pet names, spanking, angry sex, humiliation, begging, fingering, oral > f receiving, marking, claiming, mentions of voyeurism, hair, ‘is all  I suppose. ✸ wc: 2.3k ✸ posted only zoro’s version but didn’t appear on tags, so, I repost that part with others’ parts too. tried to stay in characters. enjoy!

⭑ ZORO

“oohhh - sanji!”

you moaned, not aware of your own moans until he asked, voice deep, sending radiations of danger.

“what did you just say?”

hands on your waist freezing, the pressure still on there yet it doesn’t continue pulling and pushing your body, stopping fucking you - the sudden silence in the room fills up with heavy breathing.

he holds you by the neck, raising your body up, he makes your back touch his bare chest, back arching - his cock twists inside your walls.

“I asked,” he says, warm breaths hitting your ear as his voice reaches every part of your body as if it's a poison - and he is the only cure for it. “what did you fucking say.”

it wasn’t intentional - you didn’t mean to moan another man’s name in the middle of fucking, but, it came as an instinct.

“z-zoro - I - didn’t mean to - aggh -!”

“didn’t mean to what? moaning another man’s name?” he chuckled, far away from entertaining, just pure annoyance. “moaning sanji’s name while my dick inside you, breakin’ you into half, hm?”

you can’t answer, you can’t even comprehend what to do because you don’t understand why you moaned sanji’s name. however, zoro knows you more than you do, and owns every knowledge about the hidden meanings behind your actions, words, and looks - he isn’t dumb, he knows how you close your thigh around sanji whenever he cooks, watching him from the corner of your eyes as you bite your lips without even noticing it.

it is not that zoro doesn’t get jealous, he does and he will prove it right away yet he wants to satisfy you in every way he can - he can see the truth behind the whole thing; you want the full attention that you try to make him angry with all these acts, and you have no idea that you’re doing all that only for him - for zoro so that he can get possessed around you.

he’s a pleaser though, for you, and he will plan your little game, giving what you want.

“maybe I should call him,” he says, and whimpers when your pussy clenches around his length on its own - pure instinct, pure satisfaction. he smirks, pride runs in his veins, he really knows you - each hit point, each desire, everything. he leaves your body, bending it over again, ass getting higher.

he begins to fuck you so slow that you swear you will lose your mind anytime soon as his cock goes out of your horny clit until his tip touches your folds, only to shove it in again with a hard yet effective thrust.

weren’t his hands holding you by the hips, you would hit the wall in front of your face - moaning louder than before, afraid that the crew will hear you as you get fucked by furious zoro.

“ohh, I definitely should call him. wanna make him watch your pretty face as I fuck your hungry pussy for my cock,” he says, thrusting faster each passing time, making your hands grip the sleeves under you. “would you like that?” he asks, balls hitting every right spot of your ass cheeks, thrust begins to mixture of both pain and pleasure.

“ohhh - zoro - zoro -!”

“that’s right baby. roronoa zoro,” he kneels down, abdomen touching your back, dick reaches the end of your pussy, a hand grips your hair, pulling it harshly, “scream my fucking name louder, wanna hear it, wanna everyone hear it as well.”

“‘m sorry, zoro, ‘m so sorry -“

“oh please,” he mocks you, leaving your hair, only to hold you by the neck this time, pushing you onto the mattress lower, cries rush onto your face. soaking, you moan his name over and over again. “you’re not sorry at all. you’re just a slut, aren’t you?” his fingers play with your ass hole, sending a new sense of satisfaction into your body, “a slut only for my cock though,” he whispers into himself, slapping your ass, earning a scream out of your pretty parted lips.

then, he turns you around, and the cock swifts inside you - standing above you, he puts one of his hands beside your head, and the other one grips your neck completely, making you look up to his face - he finds the pace that he knows that will make you see starts.

eyes sparkling with lust as you look at him, half-closed, blurry already, dry tears on the cheeks, chest raising up and down rapidly while his cock fucks your abused clit harder, and deeper. “yes my slut,” he says, possessiveness can be heard through his voice, “look at who’s fucking you right now. not luffy, not that shitty waiter sanji either. just roronoa zoro. who’s fucking you? whose pussy is this? say it.”

“roro - ohhhh, shit - roronoa z-zoro!”

he nods with such pride that he smirks, still furious, but enjoying this so much that he decides to fuck you in every position he can until the whole crew knows you’re getting fucked by him in his damn room, crying only his name. “that’s it my pretty slut, you will never forget it. from now on, I will dig it into your dizzy head so that your legs will open on their own whenever you see me.”

“please, yes, yes, zoro!” going all mindless, you let him do what he wants - after all, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?

“pretty slut. gotta make you know who you belong to.”

⭑ LUFFY

“fuuuck - usopp!” the words - the moan comes out of you without your control, making his head higher up.

“huh? say somethin’ baby?” he asks, not stopping eating you from the back, fingers joined, brows raised, curiously looking at you.

“‘m so sorry, luffy - I - I wasn’t thinking straight- I - ohhh!” you try to say but your words are cut by his fingers scissoring inside you.

“oh,” he says, sounding not surprised but excited, chuckling even as he adds, “I didn’t hear it wrong then. you really moaned his name - while my tongue is deep inside you, fingering this beautiful pussy that I thought clenching because of how good I am fucking you.”

between your loud whimpers mixing with moans, you begin to say how sorry you are. you weren’t aware of it until the moment usopp’s name left your mouth. you knew it was luffy who was making you week on the knees, who’s have your legs wrapped around his bare shoulders, your pussy wide open, hands on his curly hair as you pull them whenever his tongue and fingers reach your g-spot - only he can fuck you like this, you know it! but why you moaned usopp’s name, why you pictured him in your mind beside luffy are the questions you have no answers to.

“I don’t know what happened to me - ohhh - luffy, ‘m so sorry - fuuck!”

both moaning with pleasure and crying with pure guilt, you try to hide your face from luffy, a hand positioned on your half of the face, not looking at him, afraid that you made him upset and disappointed yet luffy is there to prove you wrong when he leaves your pussy, gets up, holding you by the chin as he lowers down, making both of you hit the bed underneath you.

hovering over you, he makes you see his smiling face, lips shining because of your soaking, eyes sparkling.

“oh, pretty baby, look at me,” he says, caressing your chin, “I am not mad. not at all. if you want to bring another man into the bed -“

“no, no - I don’t - I really don’t!” you protest, so shy at the thought. you only want luffy, you know that, and you want to apologize to him for being such a greedy girl, “you’re my one and only luffy. I only want you.”

he chuckles softly, shaking his head, fingers finally finding your aching pussy again, playing with it as he says, “‘s okay. if I am the only one you want, then, let me fuck you that your whole body remember I am the one and only for it.”

he keeps his promises, fucking you until the only thing you have on your mind is him - nothing more, nothing less.

yet he doesn’t leave you without teasing you, giving you wet kisses, markings, and even slaps from here to there - enjoying seeing you all shy yet greedy for him.

⭑ SANJI

“oh yes, yes, yes, right there - so good so good - please more, zoro, please!”

“hm? what?” he asks in a surprised tone, hands stopping playing with your breasts, tongue staying on the hardened nipple without moving, eyes looking up to your confused face from where he stays on - your exposed chest.

he smirks, a bit of jealousy and entertainment at the same time, realizing you have no clue about what you said a second ago, legs push him closer - wanting his cock deep inside your warm walls to start moving again because you can’t understand why he has stopped fucking you.

“oh my beautiful madam,” he teases, “can’t even realize he moaned another man’s name while having my cock warm inside her pussy!”

your eyes widen after you comprehend the words he’s saying.

you swear lowly, hands touch his well-built chest, heat rushing all over your face, and you begin to feel guilt blooming inside your abdomen which has twisted.

“sanji - I am so sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t -“ he cuts you off, right hand finds your neck as long fingers caress your face.

his face so close to yours as he chuckles, “oh, did my pretty lady remember who’s fucking her? not zoro, eh?”

he can’t decide whether he should feel humiliated or amused. yet he doesn’t go hard on you, moving his hips, he earns low moans from you - hands trembling on his chest, the dilemma rises up inside the mind, thoughts about zoro shuts down by sanji, he shoves his dick into you slowly and in one go as if he’s trying to remind you that you’re under him - not zoro’s or any other man’s.

“please, sanji - faster, please!” your please now is filled with his name comes as prays into his ears, the pride increases, giving sanji a chance to play with your cute little mind.

“that’s right baby, sanji - say that again.” his movements become faster, harder.

“sanji, sanji, sanji - aggh, so good -“ with the help of the last decent you have, you moan his name louder and louder, wanna make him prove that you’re mind full of him, giving him the apology he deserves in a way he would like to get; being so noisy that everyone will acknowledge what you’re doing behind the doors.

“would make a mess out of you. you will leave this room barely walking because of me,” his possession is perceivable, burning you alive with the desire for more. hands grip your inner thighs, opening them wider, a painful breath leaves your lungs as you shut your eyes, giving sanji what he wants; devouring you to tame you.

“pretty lady needs a lesson, and I am here to give it.”

⭑ SHANKS

he doesn’t say much, chuckling or laughing would suit him better but he knows you should have known that no one can fuck you like he does when another’s man comes from you - moaning with it instead of saying shank’s name.

holding you from the waist, he takes control of you, not letting you ride him no more, sweats flow from your body into his.

the moment you hear his voice, memories of the past seconds rush to your mind, and you find yourself putting your hands on his shoulders, afraid that he will push you.

contrary to what you expect, shanks moves your hips slowly, forth, and back - his balls feel heavy under you, hair on his lower abdomen makes the pleasure double.

you hold your tears; blurry vision, soaking clit, reddened face, agape mouth - pathetic yet beautiful, he thinks. “daddy’s cock isn’t enough for you, hm, is this the case why you moan another man’s name like that even when you’re,” he takes your chin, making you look down, seeing the mess you’re creating, “cumming onto my cock?”

“it’s not it, shanks!” earn a spank on your ass.

“then what is it princess?” he asks, brows raised, fingers traveling on your body, “am I not fucking you good that you fantasize about another man while bouncing on my lap?”

he lets you say countless sorry words, cries inside his arms, explaining how you didn’t mean to do that, how he’s the only one for you yet he doesn’t seem satisfied, taking a deep breath, raising your body then lowering it down - cock thrusting deep and hard.

throwing your head, you begin to beg for him to forgive you, to fuck you.

“in that case,” he says, putting himself a glass of wine from the small table beside you while still sitting on his favorite chair that he fucks you onto. leaning back, he moves his hand in the air, “fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you can beg for my cock, then, I will forgive you and fuck your greedy pussy princess,”

he watches you going blank for a moment before beginning to bounce on him, moaning from the throat, hands traveling around your body to make a show only for his eyes.

he whimpers lowly, a smirk lightening his attractive face, eyes burning in fire, “give daddy a show. and when you’re done, I will call for him and make him watch as I fuck you good.”

❤💙

taglist • tagging: @snowprincesa1 ❦

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Claim

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: Your brother, Paul, took you from Feyd in a vulnerable moment, and if he wants the woman he loves back, he will have to give your brother something in return.

Notes/Warnings: this is part 2 of 2. Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Mention of pregnancy (present) and miscarriage (past). Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Smutty-ish (18+) and fluffy stuff, tidbit of angst. I'm sure there are spelling mistakes. I read it twenty times, but you know how it is. I think that’s it.

Words: 3300

Feyd Masterlist Part 1

You can’t see him—your eyelids are too heavy—but he’s shouting. Cursing. With each of his grunts glass shatters and metal clangs against the walls. Feminine voices are shrieking in sync with the rageful sounds coming from your lover and his actions. He is scaring them. He shouldn’t be scaring them. It isn’t their fault. 

“Get out!” he yells. 

More shrieks. Multiple pairs of feet rapidly shuffle about. The door slams and then Feyd is sitting beside you on the bed, one hand brushing your hair back from your forehead, the other rubbing up and down your forearm and pulling it onto his lap. 

“My love…” he says, “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You swallow hard and peel open your eyelids to see his face hovering above you. A sigh leaves his lips when his eyes connect with yours.

“They were only here to help,” you mutter. 

Feyd bites down hard, sharpening the line of his jaw. He has much to say, you know, but he struggles to release his frustration in any manner other than shouting or fighting in the arena. Right now, he can’t do either.

“They did nothing to help,” he softly snaps. 

But he’s wrong. The women he brought in to examine you did exactly as they were told. It’s just that their conclusion upon taking a look at you was not what he, nor you, expected to hear. 

“Considering the excessive bleeding, she seems to have—” the woman paused; you could hear the tremble in her voice “—lost the baby, my Na-Baron. I’m very sorry.”

Neither of you has spoken about heirs or lineage or combining the genetics of Great Houses. You hadn’t even known of your pregnancy until you heard them tell Feyd that you are no longer carrying the child, and yet, you feel a tremendous loss. You instantly wonder what that child would have been. A boy? A girl? Would they have been a warrior like their father? Or more level-headed like their mother? Maybe a combination of both—that would probably be best for everyone.

“We’ll try again when you feel better,” Feyd tells you, leaning down and pressing his forehead into yours. 

Slowly closing your eyes, you reach a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, your thumb caressing between his ear and the curve of his jaw. “Feyd, we weren’t trying to begin with.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t?” he asks. “You are meant to be the mother of my heir.”

You sigh. “Feyd–”

“You are,” he demands, but you can detect his hidden plea. “You will be.” 

—

They are scared of him—your son—or, at least, she is. 

With your ear pressed against the door, you can hear them in the halls. Mother and son arguing over your value. 

“Get rid of them, Paul, while you still can,” Lady Jessica implores him. “It’s in our best interest. You have no idea the kind of man she will raise that baby to be.”

But Paul has embraced his new role. There’s no hesitation in how he speaks to her anymore. His words are firm, but well-chosen. He truly was born to be a leader, just not the leader the Universe agreed on.  

“The boy will one day be the Baron, and by then, he will have grown stronger than most, his father included,” Paul confirms. “But we only benefit from having that on our side. From Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s need for my sister, an alliance will be formed that could last decades, maybe centuries. But if you harm her, he will come at us in a way his House never has before. And if he finds out you also took his child from him then he’ll spend the rest of his life hunting you, me, Alia…Chani…your future grandchildren—he won’t stop.”

Paul sighs. You can picture him running his hand through his curly locks. He’s done that ever since he was a child. From the moment his little hand could reach above his head, his fingers would be playing with that hair. His mother scolded him wherever he did it in front of the other families of great Houses. ‘Makes you appear anxious,’ she would say, and no son of hers was permitted to come off as anything but respectable in front of their equals. She knew of the man he would one day become. But her nagging didn’t help him in the end. 

“Paul, listen to m–”

“QUIET,” he commands in the Voice that seems to ripple through the halls. “You act as if I won that duel without effort. As if I could do it again in my sleep. But not only did he survive what should have killed him, he almost killed me,” he reminds her. “So do not let your hatred for my sister lead us down a vulnerable path.”

You pull your ear away from the door. How strange that you always knew she hated you and yet never heard it from anyone’s lips until now. You can’t say it hurts, but it does affirm that the only thing keeping you alive is the one thing you didn’t want to be: Feyd’s weakness. He’s saving you even though you’re out of reach. You and the baby he put inside of you. 

You run your hand over your clothed stomach. There’s no physical evidence of your pregnancy, but now that you know he’s there you can feel him…somehow. You feel his strength. You feel his grit. You feel what Lady Jessica fears, and you love it. You hope she lives in fear for many years, always keeping one eye on the half-Harkonnen child that her son commanded her to spare. 

The doorknob twists and you quickly back away as Paul steps into your bedroom. His brows pinch when he sees how you’re standing in the middle of the room. You’re not resting, you’re not admiring the scenery outside your window, there’s no book in your hand—you look suspicious. You can practically hear his thoughts. What were you doing, sister? 

“It’s time to go,” he tells you, stepping closer. You don’t have a chance to reply before the command “SLEEP” weaves into your brain. Your eyes close. Your body goes limp into your brother’s arms. Your mind shuts down. You’re gone. 

—

It’s bright. The inside of your eyelids are glowing the same orange shade as the flower your father traditionally gifted you on your birthday. It’s brighter than Caladan and Arrakis. A brightness you know only comes from Giedi Prime’s midday sun. 

You're moving but not by your own feet. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to your surroundings, and when they open, you find yourself tucked against a chest. An Atreides soldier, once your father’s, now sworn to serve your brother. 

“Put me down,” you mumble, but he doesn’t. “Put me down!”

“Put her down if she wants to be put down,” Paul says. “She won’t go anywhere. This is exactly where she wants to be.”

You’re set on your feet, but the soldier’s hand wraps around your bicep as the group comes to a halt. You do a quick glance around. Sixteen soldiers, suitably armed and shields activated. More on the ship likely, ready to attack if necessary. One Bene Gesserit bitch. One intended emperor with the skin of your brother. And you, anxiously awaiting him.

“Atreides!”

Feyd steps out of the Harkonnen fortress alone. He walks down the lengthy walkway alone. He has a blade at his hip, a shield, but no soldiers. You know they are somewhere, though, hiding, waiting for his call if needed.

As the distance between you lessens, tears attempt to blur your vision, but you blink them away. Your legs quiver, and you would collapse to your knees if not for the vice grip on your arm. He’s alive. He’s so beautifully alive. He’s broad, and strong, and he’s stomping toward your brother like a predator honing in on its prey. You didn't know for sure what he would look like after near death, and the last two weeks gave your mind the will to run wild, but he's perfect. Like it never happened.

“Paul, you must reconsider,” Lady Jessica whispers from behind him. “We do not need him.”

“I decide who and what we need,” he says. “My sister, my negotiations.”

She tips her head and steps back into place before shooting you a glare that you refuse to acknowledge.

Feyd is closing in, but his next step is deemed too close for Paul. Weapons are drawn. A blade presses into your neck. Feyd pauses. 

“Give me what's mine, Atreides!” he snaps. 

He’s seething and makes no attempt to hide it as he paces along the invisible line your brother has drawn. His brow is low, a shadow over the blue eyes piercing through Paul’s head. He hasn’t looked at you, but you know he won’t. Not directly. He already knows what your brother has over him and there’s no need to remind him by giving in to the internal panic he’s fighting. 

“Yours?” Paul returns. “She’s not yours yet, Harkonnen, so it would be wise of you to cooperate.”

Feyd practically growls, pale lips splitting to reveal black teeth as Paul gestures for you to stand beside him. The soldier shoves you forward and you turn to smack at his wrist. 

“I know how to walk,” you grumble. “Bastard.”

Paul clasps his hands behind his back. “You want her; that is understandable. She wants to be with you, too. You should have seen how she fell apart when she thought you were dead,” your brother taunts. His tongue clicks to make a tsking sound.

Feyd’s fingers twitch at his side, itching to grab the hilt of his knife. You know a layer of red bleeds across his vision. His thoughts are a jumble of demands bouncing around his skull. Kill. Maim. Destroy. Take what’s yours. But he can’t. And, excluding his uncle, Feyd hasn’t ever faced a situation where he can’t do as he pleases with whatever stands in front of him.

“Do not push him too far, Paul,” you mutter in warning. “He's not alone, either.”

Your brother ignores you, voice raising as he says, “And your son? You would like to have him as well, yes?”

The pacing stops. Feyd’s lips softly part. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he finally looks at you. When you lightly nod, his jaw clenches. 

Paul doesn’t miss the silent communication. “So,” he says, lifting his chin a half-inch, “are we calm now?”

Feyd inhales a deep breath and huffs it out through his nose. He does it again and again, chest puffing out then deflating like an animal desperate to strike. ‘Calm’ isn't exactly how you would describe him—good, you expect nothing less—but he’s not displaying the same heightened level of fury.

“What do you want, Atreides?” Feyd grunts.

“Loyalty,” Paul doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You are my cousin. You love my half-sister and the two of you will share a child, assuming you can behave yourself. Family should inherently be loyal to family, I believe. That’s a fair place to start.”

“To start?” Feyd spits. “Do not play with me, cousin. Tell me all that you want from me now.”

Paul’s lips curve in a slight smile. The same modest smile he used when greeting guests of your father’s. You have your own version of that smile. They are smiles capable of hiding secrets. Like the smiles you would give Lady Jessica in front of your father, and the smile Paul gave Princess Irulan when he formally claimed her hand days after the duel.

However, there are no secrets behind the smile this time. He knows exactly what he wants from your lover and takes pleasure in revealing the totality of it.

“This war is just beginning,” Paul tells Feyd. “The other Houses reject my leadership. You will not. You will make a public declaration that the Harkonnens will fight for me, alongside the Fremen,” he says. “If you refuse to fulfill this, I will return with every fighter I have. My sister will be our primary target and you will fail to protect her…again.”

The disrespect lingers in the air. To force a Harkonnen to kneel to an Atreides is a power Feyd once told you only you possess. But it appears Paul has forced an unexpected exception.

“There's nothing for you to debate, I imagine,” Paul says. “Not when it comes to the woman you love and your child.”

Paul gives a winning smirk at your lover’s silence—Feyd’s glare is answer enough. 

With a hand firmly on the center of your back, your brother guides you forward. “Go on,” he instructs. “There's no reason to keep him waiting.”

You turn your head back to Paul, expecting a trick, but when he nods in encouragement you rush over to Feyd in a light jog so as not to get tangled up in the skirts you can’t wait to tear off your body. A pale hand reaches out for you and curls around your waist when you’re close enough to be pulled against his chest. A kiss lands on your hairline before his forehead falls to rest on yours. 

“You're not hurt?” he asks. 

“I'm fine,” you promise him. 

“This will never have to become complex, Harkonnen,” Paul calls from his side. Your heads raise to look at him. “Your House now fights for mine. If loyalty is upheld, personal lines will not be crossed. In other words, your child and woman are safe from me as long as my empress, concubine, and children are safe from you.”

Feyd’s Adam’s apple bobs harshly with his hard swallow; another practice in tamping down his rage.

“I’m glad we can all walk away from this satisfied,” Paul continues, grinning ear to ear. “Except for my mother, of course. Were she given her way, my sister would be cut open on the floor and her womb ripped out of her. She doesn’t believe a Harkonnen can exercise restraint and respect agreements. I’m sure you’ll prove her wrong.”

Your dress tightens at your waist from Feyd’s fingers fisting into the material. “Keep your head,” you gently whisper. “Let him go.”

“You have three days to officially announce your allegiance,” Paul tells the two of you before turning to his ship. He enters first, followed by his mother who gives you a final look of disapproval, and then, two-by-two, his soldiers. Not until they’re a speck in the sky does Feyd place a hand on your cheek, guide your face to his, and seal his lips to yours. 

—

He intends to burn the dress to ash in the built-in incinerator that the Harkonnens consider a fireplace. Before now, you haven’t seen it demonstrate its purpose. Feyd refused. “We do not need that,” he would tell you, somewhat offended when you would request a bit more warmth in the middle of the night while he was next to you. He’d strip himself of any clothing he might’ve been wearing and tuck you into his side. “See? You’re fine now.”

Tonight, however, he’s quick to turn the thing on and let it heat up as he takes his knife to the back of your gown, slicing through the buttons that trace along your spine until the material slips off your body. He helps you out of the ring of destroyed fabric at your feet before wadding it into a ball and tossing it into the flames. 

Feyd hums, satisfied, then piece by piece the armor falls from his form until he’s bare with his body to yours, his lips sucking and nibbling, fingers kneading and exploring, cock easing in and out of your core. You cry as he bites into your neck, and soak in the moment for what it is compared to what it could have been had he not survived. How alone you would be. How distraught over what would become of you.

But he did survive. He’s here. You have him. His lips and teeth and touch and cock and heart—all yours. You have the warmth of his breath that brushes your face and neck and shoulders. You have his groans and moans; the perfect sounds he makes when he first enters you and when he cums. Everything you thought you’d lost is wrapped tightly in your arms. Safe. Protected.

He finishes inside of you twice, and as he begs for one more, the ache between your thighs tempts you to remind him he already got you pregnant. But when you study the tenderness in his eyes, your desire refreshes, the pain washes away, and you can’t get enough. You take until he can no longer give—when all he has the energy for is holding and kissing. 

Feyd leans over you in the bed, your legs intertwined under the sheets and his hand at the back of your head as his mouth moves with yours. 

“W-Wait,” you say between kisses. He hums against your lips and when you tilt your head back, he makes a noise of protest before joining them again. “I-I’m ser-ious.”

With his brow pinched, he pulls back to stare into your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you search for a delicate way to question the effectiveness of his new authority. “Feyd, what’s going to happen? What will everyone think?” you ask. “Your people? Your soldiers?”

“That’s what bothers you right now while in this bed with me?” You nod. He sighs. “I observed my uncle in his time as Baron. I’m capable of explaining these changes in a manner that will have them think nothing of it. Should an outlier take issue, they will face the known consequences. The rest will do as I command,” he says, emphasizing his words with another kiss. “Just as they will do as you command and as our son will one day command.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be silly. No one on Giedi Prime will listen to me,” you tell him. “My voice doesn’t mean anything to them.”

“They'll respect the voice of their Baroness.” 

Your brows raise. “Your wife?”

Feyd smirks and dips his head into the curve of your neck to lick and suck at sensitive skin. “Do you have objections, my love?”

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined being Feyd’s wife. It didn’t occupy your every thought, but it crossed your mind. Like when he would pluck out the eyes of the men who leered at you or remove the tongues of those who scoffed when you spoke. Or when you would watch him sleep and his face was unable to maintain the hard, stony stare that he brought back with him after dealing with his uncle. He’d be serene, the epitome of peace, and it was so lovely that sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You would kiss his puffy lips until he woke to reciprocate, which led to him spreading your legs wide and stuffing his hard column of flesh between your folds. His ability to be gentle in his cruel world was how you knew he would be a good husband—to you, anyway. You have no idea the fate of his marriage were there a different bride.

His tongue runs over the bite mark and you gasp. “N-No.”

Lips trail along your jawline as his hand slides from the base of your neck between the valley of your breasts to settle on your stomach. 

“He'll be strong,” Feyd says, looking at you. “Our boy.”

You chuckle. “Stronger than you, I heard.”

Feyd swallows, then nods in acceptance. “Good. He’ll need to be,” he says, thumb stroking just above your navel. “The only Atreides my son will answer to is his mother.”

A/N: i'd be open to doing future fics for them if anyone is interested. you can send in requests if you want, no pressure. I have a different feyd fic in the works atm as well

@unicoreads @haehwasworld @moonsoulk @lothiriel9 @landlockedmermaid77 @vintageroses10 @mamawiggers1980 @mrsjobarnes @aoi-targaryen @buckysteveloki-me @pao-prazz @skel-skell @barnes70stark @pekusofixus @vanilla88 @niragiswhore @benwishaw

[blingblong55]

"your girl?" "My girl.."-Simon ghost Riley NSFW

Photo credits: @ave661

this is a collab with my bestie @aethelwyneleigh27 Part 1 is here ---- F!Reader, 18+, MDNI, smut, soft!sex, breeding, possessive, chubby!reader, unprotected!sex, fwb to lovers, P-IN-V, oral!sex ----

A/N: I think the song linked fits so perfectly with this

He managed to calm your nerves and give you reassurance with just the way he nodded with his warm lips finding your neck again. You felt enough adrenaline to kiss him, like actually kiss him on his lips.

Romantic, soft and sweet yet passionate, Simon couldn't help himself, guiding and backing you up on the kitchen countertop. He took it as an opportunity to hoist you up on it by your waist, squirming a bit as the marble was like ice underneath your thighs, your legs propped open with him comfortably in between.

Of all the things, the grey sweatpants and refusal to even come close to wearing a shirt surely didn't help to calm where your mind is running.

He pressed his forehead on yours, closing his eyes and basking in the feeling of this with you, his breath on your skin felt different now...

"I meant what I said," he whispers as his calloused hands move your hair away from your sweet face. "You're my girl now, Y/N," he says as he leans forward, his lips coming in contact with yours. There is a special kind of softness to the kiss but it's all masked from the passion he has for you. "You're something so dear to me," he says between nibbles and kisses to the soft and weak spot on your neck. You can feel it too, the certainty that tonight is more than just another time where you and him get tangled in the sheets. 

Was it important to let you know all this as undresses you? Yes, because for so long he can voice the emotions he felt every time he worshipped your body. 

Maybe with time, the sneaking into your bed to fuck you raw was more than just that. 

Maybe it was a rough poem of his emotions. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, your head thrown back as he leaves marks of his confused heart on your neck. 

"Fuck...I need you...do you know that?" he looks back up at you and cups your face with his hands. Why does it all feel so different now?

You nod and he smiles. It was a routine he knew best, which is why by now, those precious panties of yours hit the ground, your gown tossed to the side as he kneeled and captured your soft thighs in kisses. Your hands run through his hair, admiring how good he looks in this light and this position. 

"God...Simon," you whisper as his lips get closer to your soaking cunt. A chuckle escapes him. "Already wet for me, lovie?" he mockingly shakes his head and before you know it, his tongue runs through your folds. Your eyes close and your soft hands push him further in, directing him towards the needed target. He smiles as he knows exactly where you want him and a man like him obeys his love. 

"mmm, so sweet, lovie," his voice vibrates on you. His tongue laps at your clit. One of his hands opens your pretty pussy more whilst the other lets his thick fingers inside of you. A moan escapes your lips. It's easy to forget your ex was just here when the man who makes your heart and pussy throb is on his knees eating you out like you're some goddess he must worship. 

The more he continues this, the more he can feel you clench around his fingers and that's when he knows he must fuck you dumb...with his dick of course. No need to have his fingers claim your cunt over and over when his hardened member can do that. 

He gets back up, earning a small whine from you as you are near climax. A playful smile falls upon his wet lips, the ones he licks before speaking. He raises and finger to the air and sighs, "Now, how about I fill you to the brim and make you forget about that mangled-looking mutt," his head to the side as he watches you ponder. You nod and he picks you up, leading you to bed. 

Once he lays you down, he admires your soft and curvy figure. What a sight you are for a man like him. 

He crawls between your thighs after he takes his sweatpants off and spits on his cock. His tip is so swollen and red that you practically know he also needs this as much as you do. 

His hand is on your hip whilst the other slips his fat and hard cock inside your tight and wet cunt. A small gasp from you and a groan from him is what slowly sets the mood for the morning. "Si," you whisper as you try and adjust to his size. "Shh, I know..I know, Y/n," he whispers back and slowly thrusts into you. Your hand holds onto his wrist while the other rubs the swollen clit. 

Your tits bounce and he leans forwards, taking one into his mouth. He licks and sucks on the sensitive skin. His tongue flicks on the nipple and a low chuckle escapes him when he notices the small whimpers that leave your plump lips. 

What an innocent thing you used to be before you ever met him and now, he has you moaning and getting fucked like the pretty little slut you are. "Fuck," Simon groans and goes somewhat harder, hitting that sweet spot of yours. He can tell he was doing this when your grip on his wrist tightens and your nails leave a painful mark, one he doesn't complain about. "You're mine...you're so mine, Y/N. You hear me?" his voice deep and yet so soft. A small nod from you makes him smile. 

With each thrust, his gaze falls on you. Even as he licks and sucks your tits, you look so pretty when biting your lip from this angle. His balls tighten, the image of you too much to take. God, you belong to him now.  

The moans you begin to let out that mix so perfectly with the noises his hip thrusts make against you is the melody that's so dirty the angels would have to cover their ears for. "He doesn't fuck you like I do, huh, lovie?" he says between angered groans. "He doesn't please that needy pussy like me and he'll never please it like I do," he bites his bottom lip as he says this. 

He pulls his chest back, feeling that he can't take more but he must wait until you clench around his dick so he can fill you up. 

By now, both his hands hold your hips, his cock aching for release and as you play with your pretty pussy, he almost wants to see if you've forgotten the idiot you once dated. 

"God, you're so heavenly," he whispers into his groan. Your walls tighten around him and he can almost feel you cliamx by now.  

He holds your body close, burying his head on your neck as he moans and feels you shake and moans his name over and over. Your nails leave love marks on his back from how good he is. "C'mon...just like that...fuck...mark me...let them know your body was used by me," he moans out so desperately it's hot. 

Soon enough, he cums inside of you, coating your delicate walls with his cum. He moans loudly, closing his eyes and slowing his pace. "You keep my cum inside you, that's a command," he kisses your neck with the need to have you this close to him. "Y-yes..." you whisper. 

His fat and heavy dick is still inside you as his unspoken promise to fill you up is becoming true. 

His hands are on your waist and then hips, travelling between them with so much delicacy it looks like he is truly worshipping a goddess. 

"Don't you ever open the door to him. You're mine, not his and you'll stay mine until we die," he says before giving you a rough but needed kiss. His breath is hot as his body captures yours. His hands holding you so close like he is afraid you vanish with just one blink. 

It must be a sin to love this hard and this good. 

"I think I'm falling for you, Y/N," he confesses and kisses you again. Your arms snake around his back. His body and yours are like magnets. "Do you think you're falling for me?" he asks once he separates his lips from yours. "I've already fallen for you, Si," you whisper and like a schoolboy, he blushes and chuckles nervously. 

It was cute to see him this way. It's exciting to know just these words make him all happy and giddy. "Good because I'm tired of being just your friend," he kisses you once more as this kiss turns into a cuddle. 

A soft cuddle that turns into a nap. 

A nap that turns into days of romancing in town streets and parks. 

A/N: thanking the man who let’s me recreate things with him for fics for some of the parts of this because I couldn’t figure out what to write

Tags:

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[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (31/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.

Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!

"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"

You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."

You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."

"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."

"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."

Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"

You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."

Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.

When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."

When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"

"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder. 

"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"

"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh. 

You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."

Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."

Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly. 

"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment. 

The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.

You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes. 

In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple. 

That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family. 

It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins. 

You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?

You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed. 

You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -

"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers. 

"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"

"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?" 

The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"

Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second. 

You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"

"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"

"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again. 

"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."

"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"

"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."

"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour." 

"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot. 

And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."

"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."

"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."

Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."

"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip. 

Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends. 

Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."

You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good. 

Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks. 

"I miss this."

You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"

"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.

You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."

Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."

"Explain it to me." 

"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news. 

Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."

"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it." 

"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."

Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."

You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"

Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"

"What about me?" 

"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."

You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on. 

Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"

As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.

"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."

Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods. 

"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."

Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."

Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him. 

"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back. 

"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."

You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."

You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear. 

Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now." 

You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back. 

"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.

You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."

And you do.

[caramelcal]

Hi, I love your story!! I wanted to know if you can do a when theo is jealous and leave hickey to fem reader. If your not comfortable that’s fine thank you 🤭.

LOVEBITES AND POTIONS

word count: 1.4k

a/n: hiya lovely! thank you for sending a request<3

warnings: fem!reader, no house specified. jealous!theo. boyfriend!theo, playful allegations of cheating/going on dates with others. hickeys.

"Hey, y/n!" A voice called out from behind you, halting you in your movements.

It was a Friday, and you had just left your last class of the day, ready to relax over the weekend with your boyfriend, Theo. That's where you were heading right now; to his dorm.

Well, until someone called out from you.

"I'm glad I caught up with you," The voice said as you turned around, eyes catching onto Zacharias, a Hufflepuff boy in your year, and your potions partner.

"Hi, Zacharias," You gave the boy a pleasant smile, trying to be as nice as possible. You held your books in your hands in front of your chest, looking at the boy who seemed a little out of breath.

"Hi, um-" He started, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes cast away from you for a second, "I wanted to talk to you about our potions project."

You looked at him with a small smile, urging him to go on as he took a deep breath. Tons of students bustled around the two of you, loud, excited to get off to their dorms or hang out with their friends, and although you wanted nothing more than to run to Theo's dorm, you were patient with the boy in front of you.

He seemed nervous.

"Well, I was thinking we could get a headstart on our project, maybe tomorrow in the library?" He proposed, his eyes looking pretty much everywhere but your face, "I mean, I really need a good grade on this project, and I know that you like to..."

Zacharias continued, but you zoned out a little as your eyes caught on to a particular group of Slytherin boys. They all joked about, pushing each other, and just acting generally boisterous. Not a single one of them wore their robes, all claiming to be far too cool for them, their ties loosened and white sleeves rolled up.

Your eyes caught onto the familiar tall figure of your boyfriend as he laughed, his blue eyes catching onto yours as you smiled, getting a smile in return. His friends all started to notice you too, riling Theodore up as boys do when they saw the look in his eyes.

"Y/n?" A hand gently brushed against your shoulder, drawing your attention back towards Zacharias, his eyebrows slightly drawn, and a slight redness in his cheeks.

"That sounds like a good idea, Zacharias," His face brightened a little, "but I can't do tomorrow, I have plans with my boyfriend, sorry."

"Oh."

"We can start on Sunday though? How does that sound?"

A small smile makes its way back onto Zacharias' lips as he nods, "Yeah, that sounds good."

Before you can respond, however, to work out times or anything, you hear a call from behind you, "Y/n! C'mon! We don't have all day!"

Your head whips around, hearing Draco shout after you to get you to hurry up, only to realise all of the Slytherin boys are staring at you, waiting for you to come with them. With a smile, you turn back around and say your goodbyes to Zacharias, before practically skipping over to the boys.

Your eyes don't move from the tall blue-eyed boy, your arms thrown over his shoulders as you reach up and peck him on the cheek. His eyes don't quite meet yours, focusing on something behind you as his hands snake possessively around your waist, a kiss being placed on your forehead.

Then, you're whisked away to the Slytherin common room, and soon enough, Theodore's dorm. The door shuts behind your boyfriend as you place your books down on his bedside table, and he wastes little time pulling your robe away from your neck and down your shoulders, slipping it off your body.

"I missed you," You spoke quietly as you turned around in your boyfriend's hold, your hands going over his shoulders and curling into the hair on the nape of his neck.

Your head is on his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne and cigarettes, eyes closing at the comfort it brings you.

Theo hummed in response, pulling back a little as he picked you up with ease, placing you down on his bed as he sat beside you, facing you.

His lips soon find yours, his hand sitting around the back of your neck, keeping your lips firmly on his as his thumb caresses your hair away from the side of your neck. His free hand pulls at your tie, then unbuttons the top two buttons of your shirt, moving the fabric to free the side of your neck.

Then, his lips latch onto your neck, near your jaw, and the second you feel him suck and his teeth lightly graze over the skin, you know exactly what he's trying to do.

"Theo, lower. Those marks are going to be visible above my uniform."

Yet, he doesn't stop. In fact, he seems even more eager to mark up the side of your neck when he hears those words tumble from your lips.

"Theo."

He pulled away a little, but you could still feel his soft breaths against the bare skin of your neck. You looked down at him with a quizzical look.

"Why are you doing it so high?"

He avoided the question, his hands pushing your hair back once more as his eyes cast back down to the skin of your neck, "You excited about your date with your little boyfriend?"

"I didn't realise we'd planned a date this weekend."

"I'm talking about your other boyfriend," He quipped back sarcastically, before his lips made contact with another spot on your neck, littering what you can guarantee are going to be countless dark bruises along your neck.

Your eyebrows furrow at this remark as you try to piece together what Theodore could possibly be talking about. What other plans did you even have?

"Are you talking about Zacharias? He's just helping me with our potions project," You informed your boyfriend, your hand coming up to grab at the strands of his soft hair once more.

"Tell him to leave it, I'm better at potions anyway. I'll help you," Theodore bargained, without his mouth moving away from your neck.

He wasn't wrong. Theodore was brilliant at potions, but regardless of that, it was your and Zacharias' project, not you and Theodore's.

"Wait," A subtle smirk came to your lips as you began to piece together what was happening, your hand pushing Theo away from your neck, "Are you jealous, Theo?"

You held him in such a way that he was unable to attach his lips to your neck to continue his attack, your head tilting a little as you waited for a response.

Theodore rolled his eyes in response, mumbling, "No."

"Are you sure?" You pouted a little, raising an eyebrow at the way his eyes were cast to the side, not looking you in the eyes. His hair was a little messed up, and a small pout had made its way to his lips, too. He crossed his arms over his chest, almost comically, as if he was a child in a huff.

"That puff has nothing on me," He mumbled cockily, making you laugh softly as you moved your hands from holding him back. Not skipping a beat, Theo latched his lips back onto your skin, on the opposite side now.

"Stop," You laughed a little, "Snape's going to have a heart attack if he sees these."

You had absolutely no doubt that these were going to be a pain in the ass to hide. Even with your hair down, it was going to be a real struggle. With how many Theodore had left too, you knew the chances of you being able to cover them with makeup was going to be difficult, too.

"Hope the puff does, too," Theodore mumbled almost childishly.

"Don't be jealous, Theo," You spoke softly, your hand coming up to play with his hair once more, your other hand rubbing his back, "You know I'm yours."

"You're right," Theodore responded, pulling away from the last hickey he made, then pressing a soft kiss against your neck, now littered with marks, then your jaw, then your lips. Finally pulling back, his blue eyes meet yours, a smile coming to his face as he surveys his work, then your face, "All mine."

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

[skyahri]

How They'd Do You |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Madara Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki.

Summary: How they are in bed.

Warnings: NSFW. Mentions of sex and foreplay. Breeding kink, breast and nipple play, head, etc.

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

Sasuke isn't one to give up control very easily, especially when he's in any sort of vulnerable state.

More often than not, he's on top of you, forcing your legs against your chest and not holding anything back as he thrusts into you.

On the rare occasion he allows you to top, he's still 100% in control. He always ends up taking over towards the end when he can't take it anymore. His release is close, and something in his brain is begging him to rail you.

He wouldn't be into actual choking in fear he'd lose control of his strength, but he's not afraid to use your neck as a handle of sorts to keep your body from moving too much.

Hes the embodiment of a breeding kink.

He's close to his end. He places his hand on your stomach and forces his seed in you.

If he's still got stamina, he's pushing you onto your hands and knees for round two, ass high up in the air.

"Not a single drop spills. Got it?"

Emergency contraceptive is your best friend, but let's be real. It fails sooner rather than later based on the sheer amount you rely on it.

Kakashi Hatake

Foreplay king. He loves head, both giving and receiving, sometimes even at the same time. Nipple play, fingering, whatever it is you're needing, he's providing.

Passionate.

When he does share his mind, it's never a light matter, and sex is no different.

Kissing, hand holding, praising - it's all a very important part of the act for him. He's pouring his heart and soul into you every time you're together.

But don't get it wrong, he's still a man. Those sweet nothings and soft whispers about how much he loves you quickly turn into dirty talk.

"You're such a good girl."

"You look so pretty wrapped around my cock."

"You're mine, you know that?"

He definitely sticks his fingers in your mouth.

After a certain point, he let's his dick do the thinking for him. You don't mind one bit.

He's all about aftercare. Rags or showers or just physical contact, whatever you want, he's got it. He knows he's not always the best at taking care of you, but this is one instance where he's confident about what he's doing.

Shikamaru Nara

My man is lazy and that doesn't change, even in the bedroom.

He usually doesn't go down on you but enjoys when you sit on his face. He'll wrap his arms around to grip your thighs. He's never one to turn down head but doesn't really make foreplay a priority.

Some might call him a pillow princess at first glance, but it's deeper than that. He has the control, he just let's you do the work most of the time.

You may be on top, but his strong grip and guiding fingers tell you exactly what to do.

Sometimes, he doesn't care for the pleasantries that come with dragging it out. He'll nestle between your legs and let his head dip down to your neck.

Lazy thrusts, but that's fine. Deeper is always better than faster.

He doesn't really do dirty talk, but he's definitely not silent. He's vocal, always groaning, maybe he'll tell you that he loves you if he's feeling a certain way.

Madara Uchiha

Most of the time, he's hate fucking you.

There's no time for foreplay when he's immediately slamming you against the wall when he gets home.

Despite all the anger radiating off of him as he mercilessly thrusts into you, he's calling you the sweetest nicknames he can think of. Love or Darling or something of the sort.

He always finishes inside. You're not sure if he's just too busy letting his frustration out to think, or if he's actively trying to get you pregnant.

It's both... sort of. For him, anger is just passion and fuel. It has nothing to do with his actions. He's pumping you full of his cum because he likes to claim you. He wants you to bare his children. He wants people to know you're his.

Aftercare isn't as straightforward for him. He's not offering to clean you up, but he tries to find ways to subtly apologize for turning you into a toy.

Naruto Uzumaki

Naruto runs on pure instinct in every aspect of his life.

He's doing what feels right in the moment and confirming it with you if it's something he's unsure about. (Consent is key).

He's a people pleaser. He's always making sure he takes care of you before he even thinks about himself. Eating you out, fingering, breast play, whatever you want.

He's sloppy. It's just something that always emerges with him. He's placing wet kisses on your neck, his hand placement can sometimes be a bit awkward, but it all adds to the experience.

His head gets so foggy with love and lust that he honestly can't think straight. The way his body takes control and he ravages you in an almost primal way, it's to die for.

[kaciebello]

Band-aids of death

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :( word count: 1347

Percy has been at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seemed like he was good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.

Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway.

After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy finally felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.

Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. However, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.

They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.

Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.

“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own.

“ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.

A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw.

“ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? Nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 

“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues,

“Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”

“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is.

“ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders.

“ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”

“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”

“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen.

“ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 

“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids.

“ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 

“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl.

“ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.

“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks.

“ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 

“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.”

“ Australia?”

“No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 

“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him.

“You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,

 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.

“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.

He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Two personalities that clash, you and your lieutenant rarely get along, but when it comes to light that Lt. Riley has been messing with things behind the scenes of your life, what will happen when you confront him? Is it really hate that makes you stay in the argument the ensues...or is the tension a little too heavy to ignore?

Word Count: 7.5 k

Warnings:

Author's Note: I was planning on having more out this week, but storms here where I live have set me back a bit in getting things out due to power constantly going down. I'm behind, but I promise things are still coming. We have the steamy risking it without protection fic and the angsty Truth or Dare part 6 coming, so stay tuned!

Lt. Riley doesn’t really want to be here, stuck in the middle of the loud, crowded bar right off base on his night off and yet here he is amidst it all. Just wanted to, he will repeat if pushed for an answer as to why he’s come out and a part of him might even mean it, at least that is what he will try to convince himself of because he can’t accept that he knows it’s a lie. 

A strong grip wrapped around his glass from his large hand, he brings his bourbon to his lips as those brown eyes scan the place from within the recesses of his thinner black balaclava that he wears when back in civility. His dark eyes are constantly on the move to disguise their true target, flitting from Soap to Garrick to whoever else is speaking around the small group of tables the taskforce has claimed for the evening only to dart back to one person: you. 

He eyes you across the bar chatting up some bloke with mid length black hair and a prominent neck tattoo, smiling and giggling in what looks to be a lively conversation of shared interests and it makes his blood pressure rise until he can feel the heat in his face. Lucky for him that the mask conceals enough, only being pulled up from time to time for him to take a drink or grab a quick smoke.

For whatever reason you both have never really gotten along with one another, even from day one. There is something about your personalities that just does not mix, a tension that always leads to an argument. Maybe it is the similarities in your natures, maybe it is because you aren’t afraid to speak out where he is more subdued and calculated. Whatever the reason doesn’t matter, whenever you are in proximity it is like trying to force gasoline and fire to coexist in the same place without causing destruction. Sure, you can both be professional in the right setting, force yourselves to work together for a common goal as sergeant and lieutenant and you are good at it, but once the threat is gone and you are back on safe ground, the feud ramps right back up.

So it surprises you when the lieutenant immediately agrees to tag along tonight. He usually isn’t too keen on this type of rowdy fun, preferring quieter company, but over the past couple of months it seems like wherever it is you find yourself he is never too far away. It is a free country and he can do as he damn well please, even though it is obvious the way his stare keeps coming back to you.

He may have everyone else fooled, but not you, no. There is no mistaking the feeling you get whenever his gaze falls on you.

You have noticed it more and more in the past couple of weeks the way that somber glare subtly finds you when you are near. Clearly you are doing something right to piss him off and there is something euphoric about forcing his attention to constantly stick to you. Why not play it up? Maybe you like the idea of making him watch as you finally score. 

You hope it makes him seethe to see you happy.

Those dark eyes stick to you for a couple hours until finally he has caught what he has been waiting for. He follows your form as you get up from your seat and make your way over towards the bathrooms. He can’t stop himself from taking the opportunity and before you have even let the bathroom door shut behind you, the lieutenant is already on his feet and drawing down his mask as he stalks towards the bastard you were just chatting up a second ago with only one goal in mind. 

The same goal he has had for months now anytime you start to get too close to anyone.

Your mystery man has just brought the neck of his beer bottle up and put it to his lips when the shadow from the lieutenant’s large stature casts over the table he is still sitting at. As he looks up he is met with the most intimidating face he has ever seen staring right back at him. The firm stance mixed with the glare in the lieutenant’s eyes within the skull mask gives the man pause and the confidence he once had slips away as he struggles to find his voice.

“Can I help…?” the dark-haired man barely gets out before he is cut off as the lieutenant steps up to him.

“That bird you’re talkin’ to just a moment ago,” Lt. Riley says, his thick British accent deep and viciously harsh from the very first syllable; he’s only got a few minutes to get this done. “Ya best leave ‘er alone if ya know what’s good for ya.”

The man swallows hard trying not to choke as he is caught off-guard by the intense hostility that has seemingly come out of nowhere. “Dude, if she’s with you I’m sorry, I didn’t know. She’s the one that approached me, honest,” he chokes out his apologies, hoping that it will be enough not to get his face bashed in by this hulking specimen of a man. 

Lt. Riley ignores his comment and leans down closer to his face, his stare sharp and cruel as he places a heavy hand on his shoulder. His fingers dig in hard until the man winces. “Don’t let me catch ya talkin’ to ‘er anymore tonight, got it? Cause if I gotta come over again you’re gonna wish I didn’t and by then it’ll be too fuckin’ late for ya. I’ll make sure ta put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Do ya understand?”

Eyes wide in fear, the man slowly nods; there is no need to be told twice, not from a man like this. He knows the type of guys that frequent the bar as the military base is not but a few minutes from here and he isn’t looking to get pulverized by a trained professional. A slight tremble in his hand, the man grabs his beer bottle and takes off into the bar with a worried look on his face. 

Lt. Riley watches as the man hides himself behind a large group standing around the L-shaped bar near the bartender and a smug sense of satisfaction fills him as he heads back to his own table to finish his drink, content that once again he has succeeded in his mission. It’s not even a couple minutes that pass before the corner of his vision catches a familiar figure exiting the bathroom and heading back to the table he had just left from.

You return to your seat only to find your new friend nowhere to be found. Looking around, you second guess yourself that this isn’t where you are supposed to be, but this is your table; your rum and coke is still right where you had left it. You take your seat and pick up your drink; it’s possible that he had just scurried off somewhere and would be back any second. But as the time passes with no man in sight, frustration begins to wash over you as you realize that this shit is happening again.

It’s been months since you’ve been able to have your needs met by something other than your fingers and for some strange reason no matter how good things seem to be going, it ends in you getting ghosted. Why? Even the few times you’ve had encounters on base the guys you had flirted with for days suddenly go cold and avoid you like the plague.

Is there something wrong with me? you question yourself silently. 

Across the way, Lt. Riley downs the last swig of bourbon in his glass, setting it back on the tabletop gently as he situates his mask back down. He doesn’t say a word or offer a goodbye, opting to silently slip out from his seat unnoticed to head outside with a smirk contorting his lips beneath the fabric covering his mouth. 

He has gotten what he wanted…well, not all. There is still something else that eats away at him, a specter at the back of his mind, and even as he convinces himself that he is only doing this to make you mad it still lays there in waiting. 

Back at your empty table, you finish your own drink and are about to call it a night when you spot your potential lover tucked away at the far end of the bar, hunched down in his seat. It’s odd the way he is sitting; it almost looks like he is trying to avoid being spotted, but that can’t be right, can it? Moving your way through the noisy crowd of people, you make it over to him.

“Thought I lost you,” you say cheerfully and watch him choke into his drink. 

He coughs a few times before he is able to get it under control and speak. “Think I’m gonna call it a night,” he says. His response is quick and dismissive as he sets his bottle down and turns to leave, but you are determined to at least get some feedback as none of this is making sense. 

You block his path with your stance and watch as his whole body tenses. “Did something happen? I thought we were having a nice time.”

The man uneasily looks around the area, searching for something that he ends up not being able to find, but that only alleviates some of the tension in his brows. “Look,” he says as he turns his attention back to you, “you’re really nice and all, but I’m not interested in getting my head caved in tonight, okay?”

Your cheerful expression falls. “What are you talking about?” you ask in confusion.

He takes a breath; he needs to get out of this conversation fast. “Some big masked guy came over while you were gone and threatened to put me in the ground if I didn’t leave you alone, so that’s what I’m going to do. Don’t know if he’s your ex or something, but I don’t want any part of that,” he confirms. “So, if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna get out of here before he comes back.”

You want to convince him to stay, that there is nothing going on that he needs to worry about, that it’s just your vindictive lieutenant trying to ruin your night, but the way he is shaken up you know there is no stopping him. All you can do is defeatedly watch him walk away as you say goodbye at any chance you had at getting laid tonight. 

But this encounter isn’t completely useless; with his revelation things begin to add up now. All this time you thought it was you who scared off your potential lovers somehow, that there was something wrong with you that kept driving them away, but no. It is Lt. Riley who is going around threatening people to stay away from you, you are sure of it now.

And that makes you see red. What even is his endgame? Things have always been tense between you two, but this is going too far. You need to find out why and now because this is becoming unbearable. He has messed with your life long enough without your knowledge; tonight it is all going to end. 

You turn your head back over to where the lieutenant had been seated and you spot his glass still sitting on the table. He couldn’t have left that long ago if his empty cup hasn’t even been cleared yet; if you leave right now and hurry, you probably will catch him. Quickly getting the bartender’s attention you pay your tab and immediately head out into the night ready to get your answers.    

Each step makes your heartbeat pound a little faster the closer you get to base. Fueled by the uninhibited state you find yourself in from of the couple of drinks you had, you don’t want the moment to dissipate; you need your anger to power your words so that your lieutenant knows just how far over the line he has crossed. 

You make it back on base and head in the direction of the barracks, passing by the dark offices and other buildings that are seemingly empty for the night. It’s late so there are not many places he can be and soon you can see them come into view. That is when you catch a figure leaning against the brick, the light from a cigarette glowing orange dimly in the shadow and you know you have him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” you spit the venom-filled words to him as you come to stand at his side, arms crossing tightly across your chest as you stop.

The lieutenant ignores you, keeping his face straight ahead as he brings his cigarette up to his lips, ignoring your presence like you aren’t even there as he takes a long drag. The audacity he has to disregard you completely after all he’s been up to behind your back makes your blood boil over and you react fast. Instantly you reach out and rip the dwindling cig out of his fingers to flick it angrily to the ground; only then does he acknowledge your existence.

“Don’t know what your fuckin’ on ‘bout princess,” he grumbles as he pulls out the pack of smokes from his jeans pocket and takes out another cigarette, placing it in between his lips as he lights it up and takes a few short puffs to get it going. 

Christ, did you fucking hate when he calls you that, all condescending and shit and he knows it too. That’s why he always uses it, just to watch the way it makes your skin prickle and your pulse race as it riles you up…just like it’s doing right now.

Your cheeks are burning red hot with your anger and you know by the feeling alone that it is visible even in the low light. “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you accuse. “Thought you could ruin my fun and I would just never hear about it, did you? Well, guess what, I did. Guess you didn’t intimidate the guy back at the bar as good as you thought ‘cause he told me all about how you threatened him into staying away from me and now things around here are starting to make sense.”

So, pretty boy talked after all that scaring he had done; fucking hell, he wasn’t planning on being found out tonight. He can’t deal with this right now; he needs to get away before this gets out of hand. “I’m not doin’ this right now,” he mutters as he flicks away his second cigarette and begins to walk off.

You are right on his heels. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me,” you say as you quickly follow him as he takes off inside to a random room not far from the entrance. You barely register anything about the place, only caring about making sure you are on the right side of the door so he can’t lock you out until you’ve said your peace. 

Slamming the door, you press your back up against it. There is nowhere for him to go, not with how you are blocking the exit and it is clear that you won’t be leaving. Goddammit, why tonight? The lieutenant isn’t drunk, but he still has enough liquor running through his veins and he is weary of being alone with you.

You aren’t going to let him be, though; your anger won’t let you. “Well, you got anything to say or are you going to stay silent like a fucking coward?” you ask pointedly.

His fist at his side clenches and unclenches to match his jaw beneath the mask. Gasoline and fire; he can’t stop himself from matching your energy. “Fine, ya wanna know the truth? It was me. You’re distractin’, sergeant,” he says, that heavily accented voice harsh with his assertions. “Throwin’ yourself ‘round like a bloody slag ‘tween the men here and at the bar. Ya like that? Being a cheap piece a meat? Ya think that’s a good look for your rank on this team, hmm?”

You shake your head with a forced incredulous laugh before turning your gaze back to him. The only person who is ever allowed to make decisions about your actions is you; whatever you choose to do or not do isn’t up for debate with any outside party. “What I do on my own time is none of your goddamn business. If I want to screw every member of this operation, I will. If I want to fuck a rando from the bar, so be it. It’s my choice and you need to stay out of it.”

It’s a lie, you have no intention of becoming some barracks bunny, but that doesn’t make the point any less true. There’s nothing wrong with a little companionship from time to time and you aren’t going to let him take that from you. This job is hard enough as it is. Still you can’t shake the question that is floating around in your head.

Why does he care so much to go to all this trouble? Why not just stay away?  

The Lt. peers down his nose at you, those striking amber eyes looking at you through the opening in his balaclava to give him a dangerous appearance as they are cloaked in shadow. Standing in front this beast of a man has left many shaking in their boots, but not you, never you. Fuck him if he thinks this bit of intimidation is going to do anything; it’s not.  

“It is my goddamn business,” he growls. “Ya talk a big fuckin’ game, but ya don’t know what the hell your doin’. Gonna get yourself in trouble one a these days.”

“Oh, so you’re just looking out for me is that it?” you ask. “I don’t need a savior. I can take care of myself, you know.”

Even he can’t deny that you can handle whatever it is that comes your way. He has worked beside you for quite a while now and there is a reason you were selected to this task force in the first place. No, it isn’t his need to protect that causes him to put himself where he doesn’t belong, but he can’t face the truth; he can’t…can he?  

“Besides, what the hell do you care, Lt.?” you spit the question harshly into his face to break him out of his thoughts. “Just like to screw with my life as a part of some goddamn powerplay? You got nothing else better to do than fuck everything up? Pathetic, even for you.”  

The lieutenant’s jaw shifts as his dark eyes are silhouetted within the confines of his mask silently stare back into your own. There is a glint in their depths, a catch of the light that makes them glisten as he locks your vision in that stoic glare.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone there, princess,” he warns as he moves in closer until the tips of your shoes are nearly touching. ��You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, you’re gonna get fuckin’ burned. Ya best quit it now or else.” 

Taking your pointer finger, you lean forward and poke the tip of the digit directly onto his sternum over his t-shirt and push down. “Make me.”

Hearing those two deadly words come from your mouth while being this close with emotions this high makes his brain short-circuit and he scrambles to get control of the thoughts at the back of his mind; no, he can’t let them get out. For a split second you catch a flash of something in his gaze that gives you pause and leaves you with a strange but familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach before it is gone just as fast as it came on. 

Flustered and confused, you don’t notice that his hand has moved from his side until it is wrapped around your wrist as he wrenches yours off his chest and smacks it against the door, pinning it there next to your head. “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice right now,” he threatens as he gets into your face. “Keep it up and see what happens.”

The lieutenant is so close now the sensation from the warm air leaving his mouth is felt against the lower half of your face even through the fabric of his mask. You can smell the bite from the tobacco and liquor as he exhales a weighty, ragged breath. There is a curious tension permeating the space now, filling the area around your bodies until your chest begins to ache with anticipation for something you can’t put into words.

What are you wanting to happen? You aren’t entirely sure you want to admit it, but still there is a growing impatience that makes your limbs tingle as you wait for the moment to break. “You’re not going to do shit,” you scoff. “I haven’t been touched in fucking months and it’s all your fault; you think I care about showing you respect? The way I see it, you have two options: either leave me the fuck alone or I make your life a waking nightmare until you do.”

Why aren’t you shoving him away? Your wrist is still gripped in his fist and yet you haven’t even tried to free it. Sure, your words are ruthless and heated, but you’re still here and he doesn’t understand what is happening. The atmosphere is shifting and he can feel it like a perplexing magnetism, a push and pull that he is finding harder and harder to fight off. He needs you to leave and quickly as he isn’t sure how long he can last under this growing torment.

“Ya best get out, now,” he growls under his breath. “It ain’t a good idea for you to be here anymore.”

His threat does little to make you back down and instead you tilt your head with a cocky smirk on your lips. “Why’s that? Can’t take the fact that someone can actually stand up to you?”

“Not that,” he says curtly.

“Then what?” you push him for the answer.

Lt. Riley stays closemouthed to your question. How the hell is supposed to answer that when your pulse is pounding through your veins and he can count the rapid beats through his palm that is around your wrist?  He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves the feeling of it. 

The silence is heavy and dangerous, too much and you aren’t sure what is going to happen, but you can’t leave with nothing; one of the many questions you have has to get a response at least. “Fine, you don’t want to answer that one I’m not gonna make you, but if you want me to leave you are going to have to give me something. I’ll go back to my original question: why do you care about any of this?”

The lieutenant is suffocating on the strength of the tension shared between you. It’s intoxicating, more than the whiskey he’s consumed tonight. Try as he might, he can’t stop himself from wanting more and suddenly the fingers on his free hand are lightly grazing along the waistband of your jeans in that sliver of space between your shirt and your pants where just a millimeter of skin can connect with his touch. It’s too late for him now; he can’t let you go.

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat at the electricity of the contact. The longer his touch lingers on your body the more disoriented your thoughts become until you aren’t sure what is happening. You desperately want to slap him, shove him off and storm out, but a secret part of you that has started to glow like a tiny ember in your chest quietly begs for him to keep going. 

Why can’t you tell him to stop?

“I can’t let anyone get to ya,” he murmurs with a labored inhale. “Don’t care what it costs.” Those hazel eyes with their blown out pupils never break the connection with yours as his fingers draw a line over your warm, soft skin and suddenly it’s near impossible to pull in enough air to keep you sane.

“Why?” you ask. “Hate to see me enjoying myself? Just want to keep me miserable, is that it?”

Those rough, thick fingers risk a bit more as they slip ever so slightly up so that his palm can rest against the meat of your hip and that’s where he stops. His gaze drifts down just a moment to admire how far his touch has gotten. This is the closest you both have ever been in the time you’ve known each other and it is overwhelming.

A shift in his stance, a half step in closer, his hand still resting against that soft, balmy flesh, and is that the pounding beat of your heart you hear pulsing in your ears? You need him to say something, anything, in hopes that it will break the spell that is making you more delirious by the minute.

“Say it!” you demand as you wrestle with the flood of sensations.

His eyes drift back to your face. “ ‘cause,” he says, that gruff, masculine voice making his words firm, “if I can’t fuckin’ ‘ave ya, then no one can.”

The confession knocks the wind from your lungs and you struggle to intake a breath. This has to be a new game he’s playing at; that’s it, a new tactic to make you lose your shit and destroy you in new ways. There’s no way he is serious, right?  You study his gaze for any sign of deception, for him to crack and mock you for falling for it, but all that meets you is a fervent stare that makes your body burn.

“Fucking bastard,” you snarl as your resolve to break away from him slips silently away.

“Slag,” he responds.

A few seconds drag on into eternity as you stare back into those dark eyes, your heartbeats racing  faster and faster with each labored breath you intake from one another. This isn’t how this is supposed to go, you are supposed to hate each other, but is that really what it is?

You’re the only one who has always treated him like a person, not some monster to be feared. It’s true you fight and bicker and drive each other mad at times, but not once have you ever backed down from him. You’re headstrong and steadfast in yourself and that is something he respects. And more than that, he desires. 

His words, why do they sound so good? If it was anyone else you would have slapped them silly and told them to fuck off, but the way he covets you feels like ecstasy. You enjoyed his attention before and now that you have all of it, it’s all you could ever want. There is an ache in you now that can only be quenched one way and that is from him.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins blurs that thin line between hatred and desire until it no longer exists. As if another is piloting his body he cannot stop. All at once something snaps and before you can fully comprehend the action, he is shoving his body into yours as his hand wraps around your throat. A wall of massive, bulky muscle presses tightly into your curves, pinning you to the surface as he wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips and grabbing your face between his hands, those large, rough things that have more experience holding a weapon than something soft and tender within them, he meets your mouth with an insatiable intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

Things you’ve both buried deep rise to the surface as the dam breaks wide open, feelings that you both had suppressed under the guise of hatred because you couldn’t…no, you wouldn’t admit that maybe there was something there. It all comes pouring out into the kiss with a feverish urgency as you unsuccessfully scramble to contain them. 

There is no restraining this fire of desire from catching you both ablaze. 

Lt. Riley’s grip is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn as the brunt of his need is forced upon your lips until they sting the harder he presses into you while the stumble along his jaw pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth. The taste of the bourbon that he had been imbibing all night is on his breath, crisp and sharp as it hits your tongue with its bite, but it does nothing to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace and matching it with your own.

You want him tighter against you still and your hands run up the back of his head through the cropped bits of hair that have popped out from below the edge of his pulled up mask. The feeling of your fingers running through the short hairs near his neck as you bear down on his mouth make that hulking military man shudder and you sigh delightedly into him at the reaction. 

Is it really that easy to make that big man fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him.

Strong fingertips jab themselves into your hip so that he can pull your pelvis flush against his while he shoves his boot between your feet to pry your legs apart, widening your stance so that he can fit his bulky thigh between them. The curve of your hip is accentuated by the position and he runs a heavy hand across the length of it as he pushes up against your pussy and you both gasp into each other’s mouths from the feeling.

That instant pressure against that gnawing ache in your clit has you grinding on his thigh. “Christ, Simon,” his name falls from your lips onto his while you cling to his neck to hold your body up as you push down on him as hard as you can to get enough friction through your clothing. He lets you have at it, using his leg however you see fit until you can feel the gathering moisture in the crotch of your panties.

“Do you even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he growls, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tastebuds as he shoves his tongue into your mouth past your lips to meet your own so that they can dance.

He has a taste for you now, a craving that cannot be quenched, an insatiable hunger that eats him alive. And he needs more.

Catching your bottom lip, he sucks it in between his teeth to give it a fierce nip that smarts, but you like the pain; it only makes you feel more alive as the aggressive nature of your attraction makes you feel like you are drowning. 

“Fuck, need it now,” you demand desperately. “Where can we go?”

The question makes him pause and Simon pulls from your mouth to look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you. “Ya know where we are, dontcha?” he teases.

Your eyes drift from him and really look at your surroundings for the first time since you got in here; you are in a bedroom, not just a random room like you thought. There is a small chest of drawers beside a bed not far from where you stand and on top is laying that familiar hard shell skull mask. 

You’re in his room.

“Shut up,” you breathe. “Just fuck me already, bastard.”

“So fuckin’ nasty,” he says with a smirk before he is back on your mouth again.  

Coarse hands desperately paw at your clothes as softer ones claw at his, undoing buttons, pulling off shirts, shoving down pants; a flurry of lips caressing while limbs frantically move until both of you stand bare naked before each other. The last is his mask that he removes himself; he is about to be inside of, there is no need to hide from you anymore.

You barely have time to take in his striking features: that strong jaw accentuated with old, faded scars, that prominent nose, that stern brow, before two strong arms pick you up and carry you the few short steps to his bed, forcing you down and shoving you onto your back so that you are pressed down against the surface as he clambers on top with you. His hands part your legs like warm butter and he keeps them spread as he positions himself on his knees between your thighs.

Quickly he leans over to the short chest of drawers and flings open the bottom most one, reaches inside, and grabs a small, square packet. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger he brings it to his lips and grabs it with his teeth, shredding the top to pull out the rubber. He tosses the packaging to the floor and in one swift motion, slips the condom over the fat tip of his girthy cock and rolls it down the long shaft.

That is it, without another sound he sits back up and clenches his abdominal muscles while his strong fingers hold onto the meat of your hips as he makes sure he is aligned with your entrance. “Ready, princess?” he asks through short, quick breaths.

Your hands grip into his shoulder blades. “Stop fucking talking and get inside me,” you order aggressively. 

The tip of his cock is prodding against your opening and you are panting with anticipation as you wait to feel it break through the threshold. It’s right there, right at the point you need it to be to give you the relief you’ve been seeking after the months of agony during your dry spell. Then all at once Simon’s hips rock forward and the head slips inside, stretching you wide open.

You gasp and buck your hips as he gathers the strength for another thrust to slip it in a little more; you are taking him so well. God, he could not ask for more. One more strong thrust and his cock rips into you deep until he reaches the base, bottoming out with a loud, guttural moan.

“N-nh… ah…” Simon groans as he twitches from the constriction around him. “Fuckin’ hell princess, your so tight…oh, f-fuck.”

Breathing through the intense feeling of being stuffed full you roll your hips into him to send shock waves of ecstasy through his shaft and his head falls forward to hang limply as he attempts to calm himself enough that he doesn’t blow his load right here and now just from that initial contact. 

“Gimme a second,” he growls, but you shake your head. 

“No,” you say, “waited too long for this.”

You will be the death of him and what a fucking sublime death it will be. 

Fine, if you want fast and rough that is what you are going to fucking get. He holds on tight as he begins to pound into you hard, making you bounce with the force of his thrusts up and down as he takes you at this unyielding pace. You are anything but fragile and he uses that to his advantage to be as animalistic as he wants.

The longer he drills his cock into you in that relentless tempo the more lost in the feeling he gets until he is completely ravenous only for the sensation of your body. He has waited so long for this, dreamt endlessly of this, yearned in secret for months for this, and it feels exhilarating to finally have it.

His primal grunts fill the room the harder he gets and you are suddenly swept up in it all as your needs are finally being met. You lose yourself in the moment, whimpering and whining as the euphoria washes over your body to make your limbs tingle. Soon you are so loud that you are surely going to draw unwanted attention. 

Reaching out his fingers find your lips and roughly he pries them apart so he can shove two of those thick digits inside your mouth. “Keep quiet,” he grunts as he continues to thrust. “Don’t need anyone hearin’ us before I’ve finished with ya.”

Getting you quiet, he needs something for himself and he knows just the thing. Leaning down over your body, his hot mouth latches on to the side of your throat just below your ear and you feel the sharp sting as his teeth dig into the supple flesh. The pressure is so hard from the suction of his lips you can almost feel the skin bubble up further into his mouth; there is no question that there will be a big, angry, purple blotch by tomorrow if he keeps at it. A token of who has claimed you.

And he is going to make sure it sticks.

It is a while before he unlatches his mouth and when he does he brings his lips up from your throat to your ear to fill your mind with only his voice as his hand finds the top of your pussy so that his finger can stroke over your clit. You’re gonna come and you’re gonna come hard if he has anything to do with it. “Look at ya, fallin’ apart just for me, princess. God, I wanna fuckin’ ruin ya.”

Simon pulls his fingers out of your mouth so that he can kiss your raw lips, making you swallow all his desperation until you are gasping for air. “I’d do whatever it takes just have ya all to myself,” he says, the words husky in his throat as he groans them into your mouth. “Need ya to belong to me and only me.”

Simon leaves your mouth to sit up higher, taking the pressure off his knees and pulling your body up slightly with him, and that’s when he catches a glimpse of your bodies at the point of their union and fuck is it a beautiful sight. The way he disappears inside of you is mesmerizing and he doesn’t want to look away, but he also needs you to see it. You need to know how both your bodies are made for each other.  

His hand moves to the back of your neck and tilts your face down. “Look at how well your gorgeous body takes me. Do ya think anyone else can give ya this?” 

Your dreamy gaze drifts lower between both of your bodies and stares at Simon’s imposing figure with his chiseled abdominal muscles as they contract and release with each thrust, his hips plowing into you, filling you up completely as each of his thrusts go down to the very base of his shaft. Your mind is in a daze as you feel him hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you time and again before his shaft reappears covered more and more with your juices over the condom.

There is something so primal about watching his cock slip in and out of your tight body, watching as you slowly fall into oblivion. 

His amber eyes catch yours and he smirks. Your cheeks are flushed bright and it thrills him to know that it is because of how he makes your body feel. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a picture wrapped ‘round my cock like this,” he groans, his strokes becoming more sloppy as the slapping sounds of your overly wet cunt get louder. 

The longer he thrusts the more his sanity wanes until there is not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he comes. You can see the change wash over his face and through his eyes and it only thrills you more as he becomes a hunter ready to catch his prey; it makes you shiver.

“Ya like the way my cock feels inside ya, dontcha?” he asks in a low growl. “Fillin’ ya full, stretchin’ ya out. Ya think anyone else can give it to ya like this? Ya think anyone else is gonna make ya come as hard as I’m gonna fuckin’ make ya? This pussy is gonna belong ta me after I’m done with it.”

Ragged, broken moans escape your lips while your hips rut up to meet him at the height of each thrust as his voice begins to push you over. Your hands around his shoulders tense and as he strikes into you again your nails dig in, raking across his back in angry red lines that tingle and burn as you drag them down over his muscles. Oh, you are definitely close. 

“Ya gonna come for me, princess?” he teases mercilessly, desperately clinging to you as he too is about to spill and wanting you to go first. “Do it then. Come on my fuckin’ cock.”

The way this beast of a man is wrapped around your body, you are completely at his mercy, his size letting him do with you as he pleases and you have no say whatsoever. And yet here he is furiously pounding into you harder and harder as his fingertip strokes at your clit; he is doing his utmost to get you off even though he could leave you high and dry at any moment. 

Never have you ever wanted someone to take away your power more than you want him to right now.

Your hands leave his body only to gather in the sheets, gripping them so tight you can hear threads popping and feel the strain on your fingers. Each slam of that throbbing cock into you causes the warmth to grow in your stomach, each second that passes the pressure gets stronger and stronger. Finally at long last, you fall completely silent and with a few more desperate thrusts that pressure is released and shoots through you white hot as you come hard and fast.

Simon continues to grind into your pussy through your whimpers as he lets himself go and within a few more seconds he too is falling over that ledge, his torso shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he pumps all that built up frustration into the tip of the condom inside you. His hips buck and are punctuated with deep groans until he has nothing left to release and he slowly comes to a stop, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs to help him catch his breath again.   

You both stay locked that way as you calm yourselves back down from the high, your legs trembling around his waist, the sound of his inhales the only thing to break the quiet that falls over the room. Once he is able to he pulls out and falls down onto the bed beside you. 

Moving onto your side, you look over at him with a smirk. “Well, shit, never would have expected that,” you mutter sleepily.

He turns his head to face you. “Is that right?” he asks in that low, gravely tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “As if you haven’t been flauntin’ yourself to keep my attention. Was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Like you haven’t been undressing me with your eyes for months now,” you push back. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me.”

Reaching out his arm, his fingers lock into your hair, tying it into a ponytail in his grip before he gives it a strong tug. “Yeah well we’re gonna change that. Cause I wanna be the only person ya look at, princess,” he says harshly so you know he means business, “the only one that holds your attention, the only that gets ta be in your ‘ead. I’m gonna be the only one that gets between your legs and no one else; I wanna be the one that knows just how ta make ya fall apart. And any bastard that tries to get in my way is going to fuckin’ get it.”

You chuckle. “Possessive much,” you say snarkily only to receive a solid tug on your hair. 

“Absolutely gonna be selfish with ya,” he returns as he brings your face in closer, “cause I would rather fuckin’ die than watch anyone else take this away from me.”

Pulling your head to him, Simon licks the smile from his lips before latching onto your mouth one last time. Maybe you two can find common ground after all…can’t be too mad at each other when you’re making each other orgasm.

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙ like a feather 🪶 | CL16 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: none just fluff as per

summary: in which you're his celebrity crush and he eventually becomes yours too

a/n: me doing research to write this fic 🤓 (watching the feather mv)

request!!!: Hi, how are you? sooo i was thinking maybe a smau where Charles is dating a singer and he's playing the guy who Milo was (in Sabrina Carpenter's Feather music video) and this breaks the internet and this leads to them dating ??? idk, just like a really wholesome one where she was his celebrity crush like Taylor and Travis's relationship. Sabrina Carpenter as a face claim if this okay and thank you.

fc: sabrina carpenter

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa, and 1,023,821 others

yourusername virtual postcards 💋

view all 22,293 comments

gracieabrams wow wow wow

yourusername blushingg

user1 omg mother

user2 ilysm

user3 she is so insane

yourbff wow i love u

yourusername i love u more

user4 im in love

dualipa beautiful as always 💋

liked by yourusername

user5 anyone else peep charles leclerc in the likes?? anyone? just me

user6 is y/n his next victim

user7 i would never allow it

interview ->

twitter ->

messages ->

/

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 991,284 others

user12 urm yn??

user13 what does this mean

user14 Y/N???

user15 IS THIS A CHARLES LECLERC REFERENCE

yourbff ur gonna send ppl crazy with this

yourusername hehehehe

interview ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc, and 1,827,023 others

yourusername the feather music video is urs now !!! <333 tysm for all the love on this track & to everyone who helped out with the making of the mv, u might notice a certain someone starring!!!! thank u to our mr ferrari , charles leclerc🙏🪶❤️

view all 31,294 comments

charles_leclerc thanks so much for having me, y/n! it was so much fun

yourusername tysm for being soo cooperative it was the most fun ever!!!! sorry if it was too crazy

charles_leclerc never too crazy

user20 omg 🥲🥲🥲

user21 OH MY GOD

user22 omg they are so hot

user23 THE CROSS OVER

user24 this mv is my new roman empire

user25 they srsly need to date

yourbff wow congrats gorgeous girl !!

liked by yourusername

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

charles_leclerc posted a story

liked by yourbff, carlossainz55, and 398,183 others

user33 CHARLES????!!!!!! AND Y/N?

user34 hard launch or friends

maxverstappen1 wow wait a minute

pierregasly hello?

user35 they're dating i know it

user36 IS SHE UR GF CHARLES

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, and 809,841 others

charles_leclerc ✈️

view all 27,283 comments

user37 omg...

user38 ok. im speechless

user39 this looks a lot like a hard launch

alex_albon go off

liked by yourusername

gracieabrams love love loveee

charles_leclerc ❤️

yourbff omg

liked by charles_leclerc

user40 HARD LAUNCH??!

user41 omg we've come so far

user42 "she doesnt know who i am" 😭😭😭

francisca.cgomes omg please introduce me

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername

interview ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 1,087,918 others

yourusername well, sure and well, my cat loves him

view all 33,293 comments

user50 NOT THE INTERVIEW QUOTEEEE

maxverstappen1 this has been amazing to watch, so thank you y/n

charles_leclerc i hate you

yourusername hahahah

yourbff i just knew this would happen

pierregasly you're not the only one

user51 everything about this is amazing

user52 most iconic crossover ever

user53 the 2024 season in the ferrari garage is going to go OFF with y/n there

liked by charles_leclerc

user54 fast times? no, fast cars

user55 charles piano feature on a y/n track when

yourusername 👀

user56 OMG

charles_leclerc i feel so lucky

yourusername you're my celebrity crush 🫶

user57 omg

user58 i screamed

THE END ❤️

[coryosbaby]

i’d do ANYTHING for a part 2 of life lessons

Teacher

synopsis: Coryo oversteps some boundaries with himself (and doesn’t regret it).

♡ content warning . Threesome, more Sejanus x coryo in this? (the genderfluid in me screaming rn) + some sexuality questioning and inner homophobia, handjobs, praise and degradation, cum eating . Dom! Sejanus, switch! Reader, sub! Coryo <3

He didn’t think it would happen again.

Not in a million years. Not after that one night, when him and Sejanus had let go with you watching. When Sejanus had punished him for taking your orgasm from him. When they touched each other. He thought their friendship was ruined.

Oh boy, was he wrong.

Sejanus has him sprawled out on your bed now, the pink sheets that made Coryo let out a snort before the other boy had scolded him silky and soft. Coryo’s cock lays against his stomach, red and aroused to its fullest capacity. You’re on your stomach, your cheek nuzzling Coryo’s thigh, leaving little kisses on the meaty skin there. You’ve grown fond of him, this handsome blonde boy, and you know Sejanus’ adoration has only increased since that one night.

And that’s why Coryo has allowed him to touch him again.

It’s not as intimate or close as it was that one night. No— this is easier, simpler. Coryo feels less pain slicing through his stomach when Sejanus’ face isn’t towering over his own. When it isn’t a fight— a rough, desperate battle of tongue on tongue and skin on skin. When he’s not seeing a boy above him.

He has no problem with men who like other men. He finds it stupid to worry about such a dumb, small thing, to be in other people’s business like that. But those words from his peers, the hatred towards such people, it makes his gut twist with guilt.

Guilt because he likes men. Guilt because he likes Sejanus.

He likes you, too. At least sexually. Maybe a little romantically too, but he doesn’t know how comfortable Sejanus would be knowing that, so he keeps his mouth shut about his feelings. About it all.

He shakes the thoughts out of his head. There’s no reason to think these things right now, not when Sejanus’ fingers are wrapping around his cock and tugging, something he’s oddly good at and Coryo suspects he’s probably done this before. His precum drips over the other boy’s fist, wet and warm and perfect. You keep giving Coryo these teasing little eyes, challenging him to do something, anything to test your limits, to test Sejanus’, and you know that once Coryo is challenged that he’ll try his hardest to win.

He tries to move away from Sejanus’ hand. He doesn’t want to. It takes all his willpower to pull his hips away. But he does it, and he does it because he wants Sejanus to put him in his place and not because he wants to stop. Sejanus knows this, because if he really wanted to stop he would use the safeword. He grunts, his big arm grabbing onto Coryo’s lean body.

“Stop it,” he growls, burying his chin in the boy’s golden curls. “Don’t be a brat.”

Coryo smirks, his nails digging into the other boys equally bare thighs.

“Or what, Sejanus? It’s not like you have any power, anyway. She’s wanting to suck my cock.”

Oh, he’s done it now. Mentioning you in his little tantrum, claiming some kind of territory over you. Sejanus hand goes up around the boy’s neck, the kind of grip that Coryo didn’t expect from him. His teeth scrape against his neck and his hand goes back down to his cock.

Only this time, he slaps him. Hard.

Coryo grits his teeth. A groan escapes him, and his cock reddens under Sejanus’ hand.

“What did I tell you?” The brunette warns him.

“Mmm…” Coryo lets out a sultry little whine, his hips humping up into the open air with precision. “I’m sorry.”

He says it with no real meaning, a faux tone in his voice. Sejanus scoffs, and his hand wraps around him again. You watch the whole scene with an amused look.

“You’re gonna be,” Sejanus says, and his eyes direct to you. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You obey, all sweet and innocent. Sejanus’ hand furiously rubs over Coryo’s cock, and the boy gasps, his hips lifting up as he groans throatily. You think he looks gorgeous, abs pulled taught, wet cock threatening to squirt into your open, awaiting mouth. Sejanus’ hardness rubs against the boy’s back as he watches the scene, his best friend and his girl getting each other all hot and bothered. Coryo’s face is contorted in intense pleasure, and he knows he’s close. Can feel it in the way his balls draw up tight, in the way his ears begin to ring from the force of his upcoming orgasm.

When he cums inside your mouth, your tongue laps him up greedily. You’re a slut for cum, all salty and creamy and thick, and you can’t wait to get Sejanus’, too. Coryo pushes your head forward, demands you lap up the rest of it. Sejanus lets him. You clean his cock up in no time.

But Sejanus gives you a look. A look that tells you not to stop. You know your boyfriend well, after all, and you can read practically any expression he makes.

So you don’t stop sucking him. Coryo tries to move your hand off, tries to get you to stop, “‘s too much,” he says in that whimpering tone. But Sejanus grabs his fingers and holds them down so he can’t take you off of him. He cries at the overstimulation, literal tears flooding his blushing cheeks, and Sejanus kisses his neck.

“It’s okay, Coryo,” he says softly. “Gonna cum again, yeah? Gonna cum for us?”

And how can he resist that?

So with a mix of pleasure and pain coursing through his cock, he makes himself let out weak spurts of cum onto your tongue again. But your mouth doesn’t stop— again. And no, no, it’s too much, it hurts, but how can Coryo resist?

So he sits back, lets Sejanus move down to play with that space behind his cock, and submits.