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thebearchives · 2 years

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breakfast in bed | CL16

PAIRING: dad!charles leclerc x mom!reader

REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: when charles is woken up by his son demanding to make you breakfast in bed, he finds it hard to say no.

WARNINGS: fluff, dad!charles, slight rbr slander from pierre lolzies

A/N: i apologize to the person who requested this bc i feel like this is so badly written, but i spent so much time just staring at this fic that i just want to get it done and other with. i loved the request so much, just wish i could have executed it better :(

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

the first thing charles thought on the morning of his first day of summer break was that someone was trying to steal his arm. the tugging on his arm was constant, whoever wanted his arm seemed to be struggling.

charles opened his eyes, blinking once, and then once again, until his vision cleared up. there–up close and personal–stood a little boy, his beautiful son, hands wrapped around his father’s bicep, a pout on his pink lips.

“papa, levez-vous,” get up, he whispered, “i’m hungry.”

charles groaned lightly, pressing his face into his pillow, “léo, c'est trop tôt” it’s too early.

his arm was shaken, hard, “but papa,” the boy whined, “you said that if we wake up before maman, we can make her breakfast in bed.”

charles sluggishly raised his head and turned it to the side. léo was right, you were still sleeping, chest raising up and down ever so softly.

any other day and charles would have been surprised to see you still asleep, but yesterday had been a busy day with you and léo making guest appearances on the paddock, and an even busier night celebrating charles’ podium once léo had gone to bed.

charles turned back to his son, the playful pout on his own lips challenged léo’s, “what about breakfast in bed for me? i won the race yesterday.”

léo huffed, hands resting on his lightning mcqueen pajama-clad hips, “papa, we had a whole fancy dinner for you. vous êtes trop gourmand!” you are so greedy!

“gourmand?” charles perched up on his elbow, blanket dropping to his lower torso. he shivered at the sudden rush of cool air, “qui t'a appris ce mot?” greedy?…who taught you that word?

“tonton pierre! he said that’s what redbull was being when they took him out of the team.” léo’s eyes were wide as he explained the context to his father.

charles shook his head in amusement, of course pierre would say that. ever since léo declared that he wanted a redbull racesuit for his birthday, pierre had been adamant about changing his mind. ‘aren’t you enraged that he likes redbull more than ferrari?’ he had asked charles once. you had laughed and elbowed charles, ‘forget rage. charles cries about it every night when léo asks for him to call max’.

and it was true. charles’ call history always contained max’s number, and max couldn’t help but anticipate every time he got a call from charles in the late hours of the day. every time he answered the facetime call, léo would appear with a big smile and a ‘tonton maxie!’.

charles hated to admit it, but his son’s closet was almost split between ferrari and redbull merch, the occasional white and blue of alpha tauri peeking out.

“can we go now?” léo’s hands were back on charles’ arm, “maman might wake up if we keep talking.”

charles sighed before nodding in agreement, “have you brushed your teeth yet?”

the boy shook his head and charles gave him a look. léo huffed, “you better not go back to bed.”

charles let out a breathy chuckle, watching léo rush out of the room. as much as he would love to go back to bed, he didn’t want to face léo’s wrath. he’d taken after you in that category, always ready to speak his mind when things didn’t go as planned.

charles quietly swung his legs over the bed and stepped out, tucking the blanket against you gently so you wouldn’t wake up from the cold. he tried to keep the noise to a minimum as he threw on a hoodie and some sweatpants.

the two leclerc boys met at the bottom of the stairs, freshly-brushed teeth and minty breaths. charles and you had decided to switch léo to minty toothpaste earlier than most other parents made the switch themselves, having caught the then four-turning-five-year-old sucking his toothpaste out of the bottle and eating it. we’ve all had those days, right?

“d’accord, mon petit chou. what should we make maman?” charles ruffled leo’s hair as he walked past him. alright, my little cabbage.

léo clapped his hands excitedly, instantly stopping with an apologetic look when charles shushed him gently, “can we make pancakes?”

charles searched the pantry, “hmm, i think we’ve got everything we need for it. sure!”

léo walked over to the side of the kitchen to grab the little step stool you and charles had bought for him.

charles had read online once that letting your kids help around in the kitchen made them smarter and helped them learn about nutrition, sending you a link and a ‘we should do this with léo’ before getting into his car and setting out for his race. that week, after charles returned, the two of you went shopping for some children-friendly appliances, excited to introduce léo to something new.

the six-year-old positioned himself right in front of the large bowl charles had set out. the older leclerc stood to the side, looming over the open utensils drawer. he pulled out two items, a spatula and a whisk, before holding them up in the air.

“léo, which one should we use?” as much as charles wanted to say he was asking this as a learning experience for his son, the monégasque was truly clueless.

léo pointed to the whisk and charles brought it over, moving on to grab the ingredients next. he handed léo the box of pancake mix, “okay, bébé, do you think you can tell me what ingredients we’re going to need?”

the boy nodded excitedly, flipping the box around and slowly reading the steps. after a few seconds, he gave up, impatient, and looked at the pictures instead, “papa, milk!”

charles faltered for a second, waiting for the next ingredient that never came, “that’s it?”

léo hummed, “yup! see, the front says just add milk! ajoutez juste du lait!” just add milk!

“alright then,” he pulled the milk out of the fridge, “whatever you say, chef léo.”

“papa,” the boy giggled, hand to his mouth to hide his smile–something he learned from you, “i’m not a chef! i don’t have my chef hat on.”

ah, the chef hat. another one of charles’ impulse buys after he saw one small enough to fit around léo’s head. he bought the same ones in larger sizes for both himself and you, and demanded that they had to cook something that night so they could wear the hats.

that same night, f1 fans went crazy over the domestic photodump charles had posted to his instagram, starting with a picture of the three of you with matching chefs hats, and ending with progress pictures of your attempt at making pizza from scratch.

charles pulled the hat out and placed it on léo’s head, grabbing another one and placing it on his own head, “okay, chef léo. shall we begin?”

“we shall!” he shook the pancake mix in excitement, handing it over to charles to open and measure.

it wasn’t long until both boys moved over to the stove, although léo had been sat on the island right across from the stove so he could watch without the risk of getting burned.

“what toppings should we use, papa?” léo was holding onto a bottle of chocolate syrup, something charles had taken out of the pantry along with honey and an array of berries.

“well, do you know what maman’s favourite fruit is?” charles flipped the pancake over.

“strawberries!” léo replaced the chocolate syrup with the bowl of chopped strawberries near him. his eyes still lingered on the chocolate syrup, “can we still put some syrup on top?”

charles chuckled, having already expected that question. when you had been pregnant with léo, your cravings always included chocolate in one for or another, and as a result, léo leclerc was obsessed with chocolate.

“of course we can, ma fève de cacao.” my cocoa bean.

the two leclercs worked like an assembly line, with charles cooking pancakes while léo decorated them with strawberries and chocolates. after yours was done, and charles had finished making his own and léo’s, charles joined the younger boy in plating and setting up the tray that they would take up to your room.

hopefully, you’d still be asleep.

right before charles could attempt his way up the stairs, léo gasped, hands placing themselves on the bottom of charles’ back, “papa! nous avons oublié le jus.” we forgot the juice!

charles stared at the already full tray, “mon amour, je ne pense pas que nous ayons de la place sur le plateau.” my love, i don’t think we have any space on the plate.

léo contemplated before smiling, “one second!”

he ran off into the pantry, a few grunts escaping his lips as he searched for whatever he was trying to find. charles was intrigued, watching his son come out of the pantry with three juice boxes.

he let out a loud laugh, “tu es très intelligent, petit chat.” you’re very smart, little cat.

léo pouted, a foot stamping against the tiled floor, “papa! i’m not un petit chat, i’m léo! a lion! un gros chat!” a big cat.

“ouais, ouais. let’s go, lion, the pancakes are getting cold.”

léo rushed out in front of charles, climbing up the stairs speedily before turning around to watch his father maneuver slowly up the same steps. when charles finally reached the top, léo opened the door and ran up to your still sleeping body.

he poked your cheek, “maman,” his voice was low, “maman, wake up.”

much like your husband, you groaned, not wanting to wake up. léo poked your nose next, giggling as you scrunched it up and batted at his hand lightly. he shook you, “maman, get up! we have a surprise!”

you blinked your eyes open, squinting at the light that peeked through the curtains, “what time is it?”

your son smiled wide, moving close enough so his face was all that you saw, “it’s breakfast time!”

“léo, inside voices,” the sound of charles’ voice caused you to flit your eyes up. there he stood, at the foot of the bed with a tray of pancakes and a soft smile on his face, “good morning, ange.”

you pulled yourself up, leaning against the headboard, “what’s this?”

you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as charles brought the tray over to you, placing it in front of you. léo hopped onto the bed, placing a juice box in front of both you and charles, leaving his in his lap.

you wiped the sleep out of your eyes, “is it like, mother’s day or something? my birthday? am i forgetting something?”

charles smiled, reaching over the plate to place a kiss on your forehead. when he leaned back, léo replaced him, also placing a kiss on your forehead. unlike his father, he also patted your head, no doubt trying to tame your monstrous bed hair.

charles looked at the two of you fondly, “nothing special. notre petit lion voulait vous faire le petit déjeuner au lit.” our little lion wanted to make you breakfast in bed.

you looked over at léo who was smiling shyly, “merci, mon petit chaton.” thank you, my little kitten.

charles smirked to himself, waiting for léo to interject and tell you that he wasn’t a little kitten, but was amazed when léo smiled and cuddled up into your side, showing you the pancake he had decorated into a smiley face for you.

charles couldn’t stop his mouth from opening in shock, “léo, how come when i called you un petit chat, you corrected me, but when maman calls you un petit chat, you don’t say anything?”

you giggled at your husband’s pout, and léo stuck his tongue out at his father, “because i’m only maman’s kitten!”

charles narrowed his eyes at you, who hid behind léo’s head, the shaking shoulders giving away your amusement.

“y/n,” he slumped over, whining, “comment peux-tu me faire ça?” how could you do this to me?

you took a deep breath, willing yourself not to laugh before looking at charles, “sorry, i don’t speak french, i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“oh, mon dieu, you are so annoying sometimes,” he snaked his hand back to the tray, “i’m not sure you deserve this anymore.”

before you could do it yourself, léo grabbed the other end off the tray and pulled it towards you.

“papa! no funny business,” his brows were furrowed and hands were back on his hips like earlier. charles bit his lip to hold back his laughter and you looked away to hide yours.

léo pointed a finger to the pancakes, “the pancakes are getting cold! we need to eat them.”

you cleared your throat, a smile still present on your lips, “you are absolutely correct, mon petit. where should we start?”

and with that, the three of you finally started eating your breakfast in bed. and though the pancakes had significantly cooled down, and were soggy from the chocolate syrup, you would easily say that it was one of the best breakfasts you had, watching your husband and child banter about who made the mess in the kitchen and who would clean it.

and even though you knew that you would end up cleaning the kitchen, nothing could ruin the happiness that filled you when you looked down at your plate and saw the small strawberry small and blueberry eyes looking back up at you.

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devildom-moss · 1 year

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Hello first of all i just wanna say that i love your writings! Especially on how you write solomon it always gives me butterflies 🦋👌

Can i request something like, an alternate, smutty ending for his recent ur card i forgot the name but its where mc and him watched a horror movie and mc got a nightmare after that so sol offered to sleep together, because it had SO much potential. Gn!mc if you may.

That is all thank you so much for sharing your works with us have a nice day and stay hydrated! ⭐️

Thank you so much. I hope that this Solomon fic will also provide you with butterflies. Luckily, I had this card, so I was able to pull from the original story line better. I'll be honest, my own personally kind of dark-loving and horny brain influenced the first half of this a lot. Anyway, I hope you like it! I'm sorry it took soooo long.

For anyone who doesn't have the card or just wants a useful refresher: Solomon had MC watch a "The Silence of the Lambs"-esque movie with him. They decide to sleep in Solomon's room together because why not - but Solomon has a guest bed, so you sleep in separate beds. MC has a nightmare about Solomon going all Hannibal Lecter on them. Solomon wakes them up (MC was moaning in their sleep), and Solomon decides that they should share a bed to help MC sleep. I picked up the story in the nightmare, because I spell it whore-or.

Solomon - The Gourmand's Main Dish card alt ending (NSFW)

(Solomon x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (NSFW tags: switch(ish)!Solomon and MC, bottom!Solomon, top!MC, light bondage, oral - receiving, Solomon riding MC's cock/strap on, hands free riding, begging, check-in's and overall very sweet sex, a bit of fear-play kinda?, implied intent to cockwarm, me writing Solomon as a loud, moaning mess) (other tags: dark themes, mentions of cannibalism, MC is a little unhinged in the face of dream/evil Solomon, some awkward moments, blood, knifeplay?, some of the dark themes written with a hint of sexiness)

Word Count: +2700

“Try the Demonus, my dear,” Solomon cooed, sliding a chilled glass filled with a sweet-smelling red liquid towards you.

The moonlight shining through the large dining room windows brought a soft cool glow that balanced out the warmth of the candlelight, creating an odd natural white. It left you unnerved, as if when Solomon had woken you up for breakfast, you were still stuck in a hauntingly quiet Devildom night – not that the lighting was ever much different between night and morning in the Devildom anyway. Maybe you just didn’t feel right because you could have sworn you fell asleep in Solomon’s room last night, only to have him wake you up in your own bed. It was all so disorienting that you wished the effects of Demonus worked on humans. You could stand to chill your nerves a bit.

The looming threat of Solomon’s breakfast offer – one that he advertised as a special treat for you – also weighed heavy on your mind. When he brought out what he referred to as “the appetizer,” which he had made a point to whisper into your ear as he set your plate in front of you, the fear of having to politely decline more than one dish came over you.

Admittedly, the dish that Solomon brought out looked surprisingly edible, but you refused to be fooled. The temptation continued as Solomon gracefully brought the fork to his lips. He had even dressed up in a fine suit for the occasion; it seemed a shame not to give him a chance. However, your better judgment held firm as you sipped at the glass of Demonus. Your eyes couldn’t leave Solomon, and the light that reflected off his soft, silver hair only made him more enchanting. His eyes were dark and hungry as his gaze flashed up at you.

“Oh, my dear, what’s the matter?” His eyes softened up, and an off-putting smile formed along his pretty pink lips. “Are you not hungry yet?”

“I’m sorry. I’m not very hungry this morning.”

“That’s a shame,” he let out a gentle chuckle, “but perhaps you’ll change your mind for the main course. I still have to prepare it, but it will be well worth the wait, my dear.”

Solomon pat his mouth with a napkin before he stood and left the room. His return was accompanied by a cold metallic scrape. You turned your head to see him sharpening a large knife as he slowly approached the table. You gulped. His ominous gait and deliberate strikes along the edge of the blade instilled a dread in you that only dug deeper into your chest when you realized that – barring the knife and sharpening rod – Solomon had returned empty-handed.

To your recollection, although you had scarcely taken your eyes off Solomon during the appetizer, there wasn’t another dish on the table. However, you were too afraid to double check; you weren’t sure what would happen if you looked away from him now. Solomon stopped directly at your side, forcing you to stare up at the wicked grin on his lips. You felt frozen in that chair.

“I feel honored that you can’t seem to pull your gaze away from me today. You must be so sweet.” That was a strange way to phrase it, and his words did nothing to reduce your growing unease. The tension in your body was different than the usual nervousness Solomon caused in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s the main course, Solomon?” you asked anxiously, despite the heavy lump in your throat. Somehow, you were already certain of his answer and were just seeking confirmation.

Solomon leaned down to whisper in your ear, “why, it’s you, of course.”

And there it was: confirmation. Solomon dragged the tip of the blade up your thigh. You held your breath and waited for the gentle scraping sound to stop. Solomon continued to drag the knife up your stomach. You squirmed back into your seat, attempting to put some distance between the knife and your body, but that displeased Solomon.

He clicked his tongue and quickly brought the blade to your throat. “Nuh-uh-uh. Please, don’t struggle. I want to take my time carving you up nice and pretty, but if you’re going to squirm, I’ll slice up that soft little throat first. Now, behave, and allow me, my little lamb.”

You let out a shaky breath as Solomon dropped the knife down to your chest. He cut the top button of your shirt off, using the dull edge of the blade to pull your collar back. If only you could get the knife out of his hand without getting injured – but some sick, depraved hope kept you still as you watched Solomon’s wicked gaze light up.

A dull sting accompanied the ring of metal running against a surface and Solomon’s contented sigh. You could feel the blood beading up along the skin just above your collar bone. Solomon kept the knife pressed against your abdomen as he licked along the cut, stopping to suck on your skin. The sting of his saliva and the cut didn’t detract from the pleasure of his tongue and lips on you as much as you would have preferred. A shiver ran up your spine.

It was said that fortune favors the bold; perhaps boldness could preserve you. Somewhat abashed, you asked, “are we going to fuck first?”

Solomon stopped sucking on your skin and pulled away, still leaving the knife against you. He clicked his tongue. “Now, now. Don’t be vulgar. It’s impolite.”

“I’m sorry,” you lied. Annoyance briefly overcame your fear, “cursing is impolite, but non-consensual cannibalism is fine. Understood.”

“MC.”

“No, my bad.” you shut your eyes and sighed. “I misread the situation. Just – listen – go ahead. But if I find out you waited until after I was dead, I’m going to be so disappointed in you. Honestly, Solomon.”

“MC!” Solomon’s voice seemed to echo throughout the room so loudly that you felt the entire house shake. When you opened your eyes again, Solomon was leaning over you, concern overflowing in his eyes. That eerie smile was gone.

You weren’t in the dining room anymore. You were back in Solomon’s bedroom.

“Are you okay, MC?” Solomon stroked your cheek with the back of his fingers. His cool hand eased some of the tension in your body. You smiled up at him, nodding. This was the Solomon you knew and loved. A sigh of relief left Solomon’s lips and his shoulders relaxed. However, his face was more flustered than before, and he was tinted pink up to his ears. “You were moaning in your sleep. You weren’t dreaming about me, were you?”

“I was,” you admitted. “You tried to eat me!”

Solomon’s eyes went wide. “I did?”

“You were going to carve me up and have MC-sashimi.”

“Oh,” Solomon nearly choked on his assumptions. You meant eat literally. Shame and guilt overtook Solomon’s embarrassment when he realized you had a nightmare, and it was probably because he made you watch that movie right before bed. “I’m so sorry, MC. This is my fault. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Can you stay with me – at least for a while?” In truth, you felt better after seeing Solomon’s sweet face again – not that evil, dream Solomon, but the real one. You just wanted to be closer to him. You moved over, giving him a bit more room to join you.

Solomon crawled into bed and turned on his side to face you. “It’s a bit of a squeeze, but I kind of like being so close to you. Maybe we should have slept in the same bed to begin with. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Can you hold me?” you asked. Solomon looked flustered again.

“I actually – well, I can, but,” Solomon tried to find the right words. “I got a bit hard after hearing you moaning so much in your sleep. I’m sorry! It happened before I realized you were in distress. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, but if you don’t mind it, I’ll hold you.”

You chuckled and sat up so you could crawl over Solomon and push him on his back. He was still blushing as he stared up at you. “How could I have been so scared in my dream? You’re being adorable right now.”

You trailed kisses down the side of his neck, catching the faintest tremble of his pulse under your lips as his heart began to race. A stifled moan vibrated in his throat. Solomon was biting his lip just to restrain his need. You weren’t going to give him that, so you kissed him. Even if he wanted to be quiet, you were the only one who was going to bite his lips.

Perhaps the roles were reversed in the real world. You had Solomon captured, and you wanted to eat him up. Your tongue teased him, and his moaning was increasingly desperate. Solomon’s restraint was crumbling. You felt him grind his hips up into you, craving more friction.

“Please, MC,” Solomon whined, “if you keep going, I won’t be able to hold back.”

You refused to heed his warning. Instead, you egged him on. “Then don’t hold back.”

One of your hands dipped between your bodies to rub over the bulge in Solomon’s pants. He took advantage of your diminished support to flip you on your back and straddle your hips. As he dipped down to kiss your neck, you felt his erection rub against your lower abdomen. The tremble in his breath tickled your skin as he made his way down. Solomon stopped at your collarbone and lapped at it with his hot tongue before he started to suck on it.

Your mind flashed back to the way dream Solomon had sucked on you, and a wave of fright washed over you. You pushed against Solomon’s chest gently.

“I’m sorry,” Solomon apologized as he sat back up. “Did I do something wrong? Do you want to stop?”

“No, I don’t. I just. . .” you trailed off. You knew it was silly to be afraid – especially because even when you were afraid in the dream, you were still turned on. It was confusing, and that was all the more reason to want to forget about it and just focus on fucking Solomon.

Solomon could see the worry on your face, and he correctly guessed that it had something to do with the nightmare you had. A characteristically Solomon idea popped into his mind, and, impeded by desire and without a second thought, he offered, “you could let me eat you.”

“What?!” Your breath caught in your throat.

Just as you were about to struggle under him, Solomon got off you with a gentle smile. He walked to his dresser and pulled a deep red silk scarf from the top drawer. You stared at him, cautious and confused. Solomon stood at the foot of the bed, turned his back to you, and crossed his arms at the wrists behind him.

“Can you tie these nice and secure for me?” Solomon chimed with a playful tone. He stood there patiently as you slowly shuffled to the edge of the bed. You took the red scarf from his hand and tied his wrists together snuggly.

“What now?” you asked.

Solomon turned around and looked down at you with a shy grin. He dropped to his knees at the foot of the bed, turning his eyes up to you. “Use my mouth however you want.”

You mouthed “oh” and sat down in front of Solomon. He could tell you were anxious, and he just wanted you to feel comfortable. You wanted the same for him.

“Can you back up for a second, sweetheart?” you asked him, and he complied. You stood up and slid out of your pants and underwear, setting them on the floor on the other side of Solomon’s bed, before you sat back down. You reached behind you to grab one of Solomon’s pillows and placed it on the floor right in front of your feet – a cushion for Solomon to kneel on. He smiled up at you, surprised and delighted by your simple act of care; his heart was melting and threatening to flood his chest.

When you opened your legs, Solomon took that as permission to approach. He settled into his spot at your feet – between your legs. Those soft, hazel eyes stared up at you, eager and hungry. Solomon wet his lips, looking as if he was about to beg “please.” And he was. “Please, can I taste you?”

He was too cute for words, so you snaked your fingers into his hair and pulled him gently towards you. Solomon nuzzled against your thigh and sucked at your skin softly before he turned his attention to his main course. Between dream Solomon’s sensual attack and Solomon’s cute gestures, you were already aroused.

Solomon moaned with his first taste of you. Gentle vibrations traveled up your body. The room was soon filled with the wet noises Solomon was making and his muffled moaning and whining. Even the feeling of Solomon’s hot breath was amazing. You couldn’t stop yourself from panting and moaning. His mouth was too good.

That hot mouth and skilled tongue was enough to bring you to the edge. Solomon had you twitching and trembling as he continued to swirl his tongue around you through your orgasm. You had to tug his hair and pull him back to avoid overstimulation.

Solomon licked his lips, ensuring every drop made it into his mouth before he swallowed. “You taste divine.”

You bent down and kissed him gently, feeling his slightly swollen lips against yours. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Not so scared of getting eaten anymore, are you?”

“No,” you admitted.

“Good,” Solomon grinned, lust still heavy in his eyes. “But, MC, can you help me now?”

“How so, sweetheart?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Solomon admitted, rubbing his thighs together. You could see that he was still hard. Your eyes softened, and you stroked his hair. Of course you’d fuck him, but Solomon interjected before you could agree. “But you must be a bit tired. So, maybe I could ride you, instead?”

“Can you stand up for me, sweetheart?” you asked him.

Solomon slowly got to his feet for you, and once he was steady, you helped him out of his pants and underwear. His cock nearly bounced up. He wished he could have hidden himself at least slightly.

You left Solomon standing there while you readied yourself for him (either by getting yourself hard again or by grabbing the dildo and strap harness from a box in Solomon’s bedside table). Solomon’s eyes never left you, eager to feel you inside of him. As you applied lube, Solomon’s eyes followed your hand’s slow strokes. He had been patient all night, but it was almost too much.

“Are you ready for me?” Solomon asked – a desperate plea to let him ride you.

You laid back in his bed and told him, “Go on.”

Solomon kneeled onto the bed and crawled over you. His hands were still tied behind his back as he lowered himself onto you slowly. A pretty whimper escaped his parted mouth. He was already unravelling by the time he took you all the way, but he wanted more. He needed it. You watched Solomon’s brows knit together and his eyes shut as he bounced on you. The sight was too sexy; you couldn’t leave all the fun to him.

When you bucked up into him, Solomon responded with sweet whining. His stomach flexed and his back arched. You took that as an invitation to slip your hands up his shirt and rub his chest, teasing his nipples. His moaning grew louder and more desperate. Solomon’s precum began to drip onto your stomach. Maybe you should thank Diavolo for ensuring that you had no neighbors or housemates to disturb.

“Keep fucking me,” Solomon moaned, “I’m so close.”

You obliged him. As you watched him inch closer to climaxing, you felt comfort in knowing that this man could never hurt you. It was too easy to reduce him to the slutty, moaning mess that he was now. Solomon came all over your stomach. His face was flushed as he stared down at you and the mess he made. You reached behind him to untie the silk scarf, which he then used to wipe you clean.

It was clear in the way that Solomon grinned – blissful and affectionate – that he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon. “You should sleep in my room more often.”

#anon #ask #requests #solomon #spice tier #gn!mc #obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #solomon smut #obey me smut

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octoqueen10 · 3 months

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It's My Birthday!!

I'm so grateful for everyone in my life, physically and digitally. It's been a difficult year for me, but I am grateful for all the blessings I have recieved.

Without further ado,

Daphne's Quinceañera

(I do not celebrate quinceañeras in my culture, although I have been to a few, and apologize if I got anything wrong, not my intention at all)

It was finally here. The day where Daphne transitioned from a child to a woman and Daphne had dreamt of it her entire life… It was less than a week away but all Daphne could feel was dread. The party was perfectly set up, the food was gorgeous and made by Gourmand, a renowned chef, and her dress was breathtaking, handmade by her mother after months of work and research. Everybody felt ready to leave Daphne’s childhood behind. Everybody except for Daphne. She loves her independence, but ever since her relationship with Micheal, a popular boy at her school, ended she was feeling empty and worried that she would be alone forever. She pushed those feelings down and waltzed into her showroom, being meticulously organized and set up for the party of the century. Daphne inspected and approved the decorations, before leaving to call her father. Right when Daphne was about to hang up, Henry answered the phone, sounding out of breath. “Oh hey Daphne,” he panted, “what’s up?” He had been going on a run on his treadmill, his most recent escapade to stay young forever. Daphne reminded him of her birthday to make sure that he wouldn’t miss his flight and chatted with him about her life in school, growing more exhausted and insecure by the second. “Daphne, you’re smarter than this, I know you are. Why can’t you be more like Allison was in school?” Henry questioned after hearing about her most recent Biology quiz. Daphne simply sighed, knowing that Allison could do no harm in her husband’s eyes, and quickly changed the subject. After a few more minutes, Daphne said goodbye to her father and started working on some of her birthday Instagram posts.

Meanwhile, Donita was trying to keep it together, for Daphne’s sake. She wasn’t ready to see her daughter, her baby, become a woman. She could still remember her playing with her barbies, babbling on and on about something or another; now she was talking about relationships and future careers. Donita just wasn’t ready. She knew this day was coming, she just didn’t realize it would come so quickly. Daphne, on the other hand, seemed completely confident and ready to be a woman and make her own decisions. Donita wanted her to be able to have the space to do that, but worried Daphne would make the same mistakes that she did, leading to unnecessary pain and heartbreak. Speaking of Henry, Donita was finally going to see the famed new wife, Allison. The woman who caused Henry to ask for a divorce and caused the downfall of her daughter’s relationship with Henry. She wasn’t sure how she would manage to sit next to her ex and the new wife for an entire day, but for Daphne, she would manage.

Mere hours before the ceremony, Daphne and Donita were about to hit a breaking point. Daphne quietly uttered to her mother, “I don't know if I can do this mom. I don’t want to be an adult yet,” which just about shattered Donita’s heart. Turning to her daughter, Donita had a nice talk with her daughter about all the mistakes she made and who she was at fifteen. It seemed like a lifetime ago, all those crisp autumn days in Greece, with Donita dreaming of leaving to see her life truly start. They both realized that just because Daphne was going to be a woman officially in a few hours, she didn’t have to give up her childhood.

Daphne’s 15th birthday party was one for the books. Her whole night went almost as well as it could have, with only minor incidents occurring between the guests, notably her parents. Donita didn’t end up meeting Allison after all, taking more and more obvious ways to avoid her. Daphne’s dress was as show stopping as she had always hoped, and everyone seemed happy for her. All the gifts she got from her family were so thoughtful and pretty and she was so grateful to have such a wonderful group of friends and family members who really loved her. Growing up was hard, but Daphne Donata knew she could do it.

#wild kratts #donita donata #self insert #dabio wild kratts #daphne donata #wild kratts oc #zach varmitech #wild kratts villain #birthday #growing up #quinceanera

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mooredanxieties · 5 months

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HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL

The trial of Dr. Hannibal Lecter revealed to the public another side of a man who was a respected member of proper society in Baltimore. A man who was respected as one of the most brilliant psychiatric minds among his peers. A man who was a gourmand and often entertained society's elite at soirees where they wined and dined on expertly prepared exotic dishes prepared by the host himself. A man who worked as a psychological profiler for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. A man who was in fact the notorious Chesapeake Ripper. An infamous serial killer with a murderous career as shocking as it it prolific. The trial of Dr. Lecter- shocking as it was, was only the beginning of the disturbing story of the man who became known as Hannibal the Cannibal. This book is a deep psychiatric assessment from the very Doctor who worked with Dr. Lecter as well as knew him once as a friend. A revealing study of what cause Lecter to torture and kill the people around him. What caused him to even eat his victims and feed them to unknowing house guests. A perfect storm of brilliance, violence and psychotic behavior that resulted in one of the worst serial killers in history. ABOUT THE AUTHOR Dr. Frederick Chilton is a doctor of psychiatry and author having written several papers that have been published in prestigious publications such as the American Journal of Psychiatry and Psychiatric Medicine Today. He began his career soon after graduating from Harvard University by starting his own practice where is was able to treat people with a great measure of success. He soon became a fellow at the Harvard School of Psychiatric Medicine where he continued to study and publish in his field. Dr. Chilton soon became a specialist in criminal psychology and was a consultant and advisor in the Criminal Court of Maryland. He most recently has been working as the Hospital Director of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane where he worked directly with and studied Dr. Lecter himself. "In his book - HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL, Dr. Chilton presents a chilling and disturbingly intimate profile of a man who is equally brilliant and insane. A compelling read" - Arthur Billings, REVIEW MONTHLY

#nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #frederick chilton #hannibal props

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bezierballad · 7 months

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please talk about your ocs! (i totally didn't run to your ask box after I saw the reblog)

Will do! I've also talked about these guys and discussed a lot of their story with my buddies @eemoo1o-animoo & @sebastian-ciel-mutual-bullying (Thanks so much you two, ya'll are awesome ^^)

(Bear with me folks this is still a WIP work)

The OCs in question are a trio of demon OCs—Tobias Gourmand, Napoleon Salver, and Maria DeVarre—who all serve the owner of an inn. (Adam Sinclair is his name. And his wife is named Evangeline. "Evie" or "Eve" for short. 😉)

The Sinclair Servants are basically meant to be foils of some sort to the Phantomhive servants (Finny, Mey-Rin, and Baldroy) but they're also basically the triplet demon servants from Black Butler II if they each had their own separate personality (also if one of them was a girl lmao)

Tobias is quite chatty with whoever decided to visit the inn, but is also considered to be the one with the least "tact" out of the three. Compared to his two companions, he's quite a bit more childish and less-levelheaded, and isn't usually seen without a mug of liquor in hand. That being said, he's a tad bit more of a flirt compared to the others, very smug and savvy.

Despite my personal preference to say his name second in order, Napoleon is actually the "ringleader" of the trio. He's the one that does most of the talking when other characters (such as Ciel, Sebastian, and/or Adam) are speaking to the trio as a whole. Napoleon is especially the one who has the most interaction with Sebastian in the story (in fact part of me feels like he's at least 45% gay for Sebastian but I digress). He's also considered the most manipulative of the three, but he's usually the one letting Tobias and Maria do most of the messier work.

Maria is without a doubt the most stoic of the three (in fact most of the time she rarely says anything), and since she's a kitchen maid she's usually barely seen ever interacting with the inn guests. Despite physically appearing to be the youngest of the three (looking no older than Ciel himself) Maria is actually far more mature and level-headed than one may think (second only to Napoleon but moreso than Tobias). She's also quite skilled with knives (more specifically the bigger and heavier butcher's cleavers to contrast with Sebastian's fancy dinner cutlery), in fact if anyone were to try and act creepy with this girl, she would no doubt threaten to stab that person.

Some may interpret these three as a "weird little demon family" and they're not wrong. Me personally I interpret their relationship with each other as "roomates/siblings who are usually on the same page, have the same thoughts and mindsets, and do a lot of the same things but occasionally get on each other's nerves". Sometimes I even think of them as a silly little "clique" of demons. Above all else, however, they're partners in crime.

Now, here's how they would play into the rest of the Kuroshitsuji world (specifically how Ciel, Sebastian, & the rest of the gang would come into play).

It basically goes out like this; Ciel and Sebastian are sent by the queen to investigate this inn. The reasoning is rather to-the-point; many people who have visited this inn are usually never seen walking back out.

There's a lot of your typical Kuro arc shenanigans, but there's also a lot of interaction with Sebastian and the Sinclair servants. A lot of "demon-to-demon" interactions.

Their relationship with Sebastian is... rather complicated. I'm still unsure whether or not these three would be able to tell if Sebastian is a demon or if Seb himself even knows that they're demons yet. If so, then chances are these three see Sebastian as, well, weird.

Like, "you're telling me that guy over there fawning over a litter of kittens is a member of our species? As if." They even make a few occasional mocking jabs at his expense (much to Seb's annoyance)

Anyway, there's a planned B plot with the reapers (specifically Grell, Ron, & Will) where they see that many souls have been strangely going missing. And they are, in fact, rather pissed. Will especially is rather triggered and believes Sebastian is the one at fault here (which Sebastian himself knows is absolute bullshit because he's been dieting fasting for what? Three years straight?)

Gee I wonder if the demons who are working at the inn know about this.

I could keep going on and on, but I think it's best that I stop there for now. This story has a looooooot going on, and that's far from even the tip of the iceberg.

Either way, thank you so much for the ask! And for those who were patient enough to get to the end of my bad storytelling and infodumping, thank you for reading 👋

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #kuroshitsuji oc #black butler oc #grell sutcliff #ronald knox #william t spears #tobias gourmand #napoleon salver #maria devarre #kuroshitsuji ocs #black butler ocs #original character

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