#would just invite oh but why NOT your art is so BEAUTIFUL you should be SELLING IT etc

[blujayonthewing]

my mom:

me, does not and has never professionally offered book illustration or comics, has been so kicked in the dick by Mental Illness™ since [checks notes] 2019 that I’ve been turning down inquiries for the kind of commissions I do do and even my personal work for fun has been spotty at best:

[keeplcving]

art deco.

(young president!coriolanus x young!f!plinth!reader)

summary: the president takes notice of Sejanus’ much younger sister, at one of his galas, and cannot let her go.

cw: plinth!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, sejanus lives (and is still friends with coryo), age-gap (coryo is 28, reader is are 18), strabo is a shitty father, sweet!coryo (but only to you), heavy smut, creampie, soft sex, pet names (little one, little dove, darling, etc), cuddling, lmk if i missed anything!

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the Presidential Mansion, a stark contrast to the still-setting sun outside. Your arm is tightly linked with your brother, Sejanus’ arm, as you make your way to the table. You don’t know anyone at this event, not really.

You’re far too young, the next youngest people at the gala are brother’s age, and even still, Sej is 10 years older than you. It makes you feel queasy, knowing most of these men in attendance are nearly old enough to be your father, and they are all staring at you.

Staring at you like you’re a fine piece of meat, and they’re starving for a taste.

You sit down next to your brother, and quickly survey the other guests seated at your table. Clemensia Dovecoat, Festus Creed, Livia Cardew, Persephone Price. All your brother’s age, no one younger. You want to shrink back into your seat, become invisible.

You have no idea why your brother invited you to attend this Gala with him, but you have a feeling it was not with the purest intentions. As you graduated from the Academy, both your parents and your brother were pushing for you to find a suitor, to further better the Plinth name. Frankly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a damn, you were far more worried about being successful at the University to find a husband.

“Hello.” A familiar, yet unfamiliar voice breaks you from your reverie. Coriolanus Snow, or should I say President Snow, you think. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was a very attractive man. Having been very young when your brother began bringing him around to your family’s manor, you only had some vague memories of Coriolanus, however, he has been a close friend to Sejanus, so he’s been around your vicinity for years.

I wouldn’t mind marrying him, your thoughts betray every fiber of your being, who you are. You are an independent woman, you don’t need a man, you need to do well at the University, and score a job. Not fawn over the President of Panem. Oh well, you think, he wouldn’t want anything to do with someone as young as me.

“Hello, Coriolanus.” Your brother greets him warmly, then lightly touching your arm, “I don’t know if you remember my sister, Y/N, but I’ve invited her as my guest tonight.”

“Hello, Mister President.” You say, wanting to roll your eyes at the pomposity of the statement you just spoke. You quickly scanned Coriolanus, and you were not disappointed. Blonde hair slicked back, beautiful blue eyes, a tight crimson suit that perfectly accented the muscular frame you were sure was underneath it.

“No need for the formalities, Ms. Plinth, just call me Coryo.” He responds, giving you (and your body) a quick glance in return. You want to blush at his actions, but you restrain yourself.

“Then call me Y/N, Coryo, Ms. Plinth is much too formal for me.” You bite back, cracking him a smile. He returns it, before turning to your brother.

“Mind if I borrow your sister for a dance, Sej?” He asks your brother, missing the wicked glare that Livia sends you. You’re not sure why she’s upset with you. You knew the President was a single man, which was a rarity in the politicians in Panem. But, you’re no where near his age range. He wouldn’t want you like that, right? He would want someone like Livia, perfect and his age.

“Of course not, thank you for being so kind to her. She’s a little overwhelmed with the gala, as is to be expected. She’s never been to one this formal before.” Sejanus tells Coryo, and you smile weakly, standing up, wobbling slightly in the heels that were a little too high for you.

Coriolanus rounds the table, grasping your hand lightly in his much larger one, leading you to the dance floor in the center of the room. He circles his arms around your waist easily, and you reach up to circle yours around his neck. He begins swaying you gently in time with the music before opening his mouth to speak.

“I don’t remember Sejanus mentioning that he had such a beautiful sister.” He whispers to you, leaning his head down so you could hear his words. He was well over a half a foot taller than you, even with you in your heels. That thought was dizzying.

You blush in response to his words, ducking your head. But you don’t stay that way for any more than a moment, as he brings two of his fingers under your chin, before lifting your chin up, to meet his gaze. “I mean it, dove. You’re simply stunning.”

The flattery was almost too sickly sweet, but you relished in it. “Thank you, Coryo.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, you had never been in a situation like this. Sure, the boys from the Academy thought you were pretty, but they were nothing compared to the President of Panem.

“You are very welcome, darling. Tell me, how old are you? I cannot remember your dear brother ever mentioning your age.” There it is, you thoughts begin ruining the moment, he will no longer be interested in you once he finds out you are so young.

“I just turned eighteen, I am set to become a student at the University in the fall.” You look into his eyes, expecting to see something, a wavering of interest, anything. But instead, you see nothing.

“I see.” Is all he says, continuing to sway to the music, holding you. His grip tightens lightly, as more people make their way to the dance floor, like he doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, some other man. Like anyone would dare attempt to snatch you away from the President of all people.

“I was expecting you to be a bit older,” He continues, giving you another look, throughly analyzing every part of your body, “Especially when Strabo mentioned to me a potential love match in his darling daughter.”

It’s like a bomb has gone off, shattering your world around you. Of course he wasn’t really interested in you, foolish girl, you think. It was set up, so you could finally find the suitable husband your father had been discussing since it had been deemed socially acceptable to do so.

“A potential… what?” You spat out, not harshly, just in surprise. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Love match, darling. But, you may be just a bit too young for me.” He tells you, shattering your heart just a bit. You knew he was too old for you, no matter the attraction you felt for him. Not to mention that your father was simply trying to better the position of the family name by attempting to marrying you off to him.

You weren’t sure what to feel. You wanted Coriolanus, in ways a woman of your social standing shouldn’t. Especially given the age difference that was present between the two of you, however, there was no denying his pure masculine beauty. There was still that thought in the back of your mind that by engaging yourself with Coriolanus, you would be pleasing your father and his wishes for you. In this moment, you knew everything you felt about Coryo would override the disdain you had for pleasing your father.

“I’m not too young.” You almost whine back at him, a light pout forming on your lips as you stare into his impossibly blue eyes. You didn’t want him to see you as too young, you wanted him to see you as just another woman. Who cares that he was nearly ten years older than you?

“Is that so, princess?” He chastises you jokingly, before continuing, “You said you were eighteen, right?” He waits for you to nod, then resumes, “Well, do the arithmetic, little one. If I am twenty eight, and you are eighteen, that leaves us with a ten year difference.”

“I don’t care about that Coryo.” You find yourself frustrated. You wanted him, especially after all of the praise he had given you. Right now, in this moment, the ten years between the two of you didn’t matter. “I find myself rather attracted to you.” You tell him, honestly.

“Is that so, little one?” He asks, smirking at your words. He knew he could mold you into the perfect little wife, so young, so innocent still, unlike the women his age, who already knew what they wanted and simply wanted him for the money and glory that came along with marrying the President.

“Yes, please. I want you. My father was right, about the potential love match. Please, don’t leave me to marry some other man that isn’t twice the man that you are. I know I am young, but that doesn’t matter. I’m old enough to know what I want. Please, Coryo.”

You beg him, not sure exactly why you wanted him so bad. You had just really met him after all. But he was so attractive, so powerful. Something about him enticed you, and you didn’t want to let it go before anything could even potentially happen, before you could see where it progressed between the two of you.

“If you’re so sure, little one. However, this is a conversation we should have somewhere more private, away from prying eyes.” He tells you, raising your hopes ever so slightly. He wasn’t outwardly telling you no, and that you were absolutely too young for him.

Silently, he seizes swaying instead turning you so that you are pressed tightly to his side, one arm firmly grasped around your back, the other arm falling to his side as he led you out the doors to the ballroom, further into the Mansion, and into what you could only assume was his bedroom, gently closing and locking the door behind him, not unnoticed by you.

He is silent for a moment, before speaking, “You mentioned other men. You are going to be mine, little dove. No other men matter to you. I’ve been aware of your age this whole night, and your father and I have been discussing this chance meeting between us for some time now.”

You want to feel disappointed, or disgusted. Your father and Coriolanus, going behind your back, planning your future without a say from you. Planning when you would meet, when would be the right time. You had so many thoughts swirling in your head, it was overwhelming.

“How. Long.” You spat out at him, visibly upset. You wanted him, sure. But if he had been going behind your back, and truly knew of you well before you knew of him, you weren’t as sure. It felt almost predatory, knowing you were barely legal.

“Just over a year, darling.” His words made you want to vomit. Before you were legal. Your father, planning a marriage to a man ten years your senior, when you weren’t even legally able to be married, or have intercourse. You started to sway on your feet, feeling faint. You couldn’t believe it.

Coriolanus reached out a strong arm, steadying you, before grasping your hand and pulling you to sit on the edge of the bed. With you sitting, and he standing, the height difference became even more pronounced. You had to crane your neck to meet his eyes, even when you did not want to.

“A year.” You started, thinking for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. “My father has been meeting with you for a year, to discuss marriage. When I wasn’t even legal!” You yelled at him from your seated position, not feeling stable enough to attempt standing.

“I know it’s wrong, little one. And I am sorry. I only learned of you not being eighteen last night. This entire time, up until last night, I thought you were already eighteen, or older. Your father never mentioned your exact birthday, only that you were of marriage age.”

Your rage for Coriolanus dissipated, the only anger that remained was for your father. You couldn’t take it out on Coryo, who didn’t know you were underage for most of the planning, not until it didn’t matter. He was just as innocent as you.

“It’s alright.” You kept your statement concise, not sure what else to say, without bursting out into tears. You could already feel them welling in your eyes, and you begged them not to fall.

The tears didn’t do unnoticed by Coriolanus, who looks taken aback at the thought of you crying. “Don’t cry, little one. It’s alright, I assure you. I am going to give you some space, and some time alone. You are to wait here, however. I am not forcing you, but I would prefer we continue this conversation when you are ready.”

He leans down, and presses a small kiss against the crown of your head gently before making his way toward the door, grabbing the knob.

“Wait,” You start, tears starting to fall at the thought of him leaving you alone. “Stay, please.” You beg.

“Sweetheart, I can’t. I need to give you space to think. I don’t want to force this upon you.” He tells you honestly, turning the knob.

“But why?” You state, petulant like a child. The child that you still practically are. “Just stay here, with me. I’ve already made up my mind.” You say, standing back up onto your feet, making the few steps to the door, grasping his upper arm gently.

“I can’t.” He says simply, not moving. He looks almost conflicted on right or wrong in this moment. Your lip begins to wobble, as you think about him leaving you.

“But why, Coryo? I already made up my mind. My father may have hid the truth about my age from you, but I want you. Please.” You plead with him, willing him to stay in this room with you.

“I’m way too old for you, my love.” Coriolanus stops turning the knob, though. Standing, waiting for you to speak again. He had to at least partially hear you out, and he wanted to know your rationale.

“And what if I don’t care if you are far too old for me?” It was your last feeble attempt at getting him to stay. If he wanted to stay, it was up to him now. You weren’t going to plead with him, he was a grown man.

“I can see how much you would prefer it if I stay.” He says with a sigh, pulling you into his arms, his warm embrace surrounding you with a feeling you had never acted upon before.

“Coryo,” You whisper, “I want you. I want you so bad.” His eyes widen in surprise at your words, confused on what exactly you meant by wanting him.

“What do you mean, little one?” He doesn’t get the chance to do anything but whisper back that sentence before you were leaning up on your tiptoes, and your lips pressed against his, hard. He doesn’t fight you, quickly kissing back.

He adjusts you so that your back is up against the door, and your fronts are pressed together tightly, without breaking the kiss. He runs his hand along the curves of your waist, before bringing his hands to cup your ass lightly. You let out a gasp, and he uses that to his advantage and slips his tongue into your mouth, tongues tangling.

He then drops his hands to below your knees, sweeping you into his arms, and carrying you back to the bed. He disconnects the kiss, with a whine falling from your lips, lightly setting you down on the bed.

“Are you sure, little dove? I can stop if you aren’t sure.” You appreciated his concern in this moment, but all you wanted was him. You vocalized that to him, and he smiled. He pulled you, so that your feet were dangling off the edge of the bed, where he was still standing. Getting down on his knees at your feet, he gently unbuckled the heel, and removed it from your foot, one foot at a time. As he removed the shoe, he ran a hand over the soft skin, before pressing a kiss to the sole of your foot.

He kissed his way up your legs, up to your thighs, being met with the skirt of your dress. He flipped the skirt up, over your hips, and met your eyes again as his hands made their way to the edge of your underwear.

“Still alright, little one?” He asked, thumbs in the band of the underwear, waiting for permission to pull them down. You nodded at him, with a weak grin. Coriolanus smiled back at you, before pulling the panties down your legs, over your ankles.

He spread your legs, so that your wet heat was visible to him. He grinned, before leaning down and licking a teasing stripe up your pussy, You moaned lewdly, legs closing around his head, locking him in place. He continued his broad licks, eventually moving to circle your clit until you were twitching. He stuck his tongue inside of your hole a few times, and that was enough. You gushed around his tongue, quickly becoming overstimulated and pushing his head away.

As he brought his head out from between your thighs, you noticed his face was covered in your juices, and you laughed. He cracked a smile at you, allowing you to breathe for a few moments together. He gently helped you to your feet, to your confusion for a moment, until he spun you so that he could unzip your dress.

Once you were fully bared to him, dress gently placed on a chair in the corner, he began to undress for you. The suit jacket first, then the button up, revealing his pale yet well formed chest that had you licking your lips in anticipation. His shoes were toed off, and socks removed too. He leaned in and kissed you sweetly before removing his slacks and boxers, cock springing up, very obviously hard, the tip nearly purple as he looked at you.

You felt intimidated. You were a virgin, and his cock was so long, and so thick. You knew it was going to hurt, and you hoped he wouldn’t let it hurt you too bad.

“Coryo,” You whispered, “I’m a virgin.” He stopped, and looked you directly in the eyes.

“That’s alright, little one. I’ll be careful, so so gentle. I promise.” He tells you earnestly, and you smile at him, nodding. You trusted him, he had never lied to you before, not willingly.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed, before climbing on top of you, his strong forearms next to your head. He grabbed his cock, positioning it with your hole, before gently beginning to push in.

You flinched at the intrusion, body wincing at the pain from his cock splitting you open. Tears sprung back into your eyes, and he stopped pushing in, giving you a moment to adjust. He kissed you, making out lightly for a moment.

“You can keep going.” You said, breaking the kiss. You hissed as he kept pushing, but eventually, he was fully sheathed inside of you, and the sting had dulled down to a pressure inside of you. You looked down, and you could see a faint outline of his cock on your stomach and you smirked.

“Look, darling.” You directed him to where you were looking and he smirked back at you.

“Look at you, little one. Your body is taking me so beautifully.” He responded beginning slow, thrusts in and out, keeping tempo.

“Please, Coryo. More!” You begged him, and he began thrusting faster, pressing into a spot inside of you that made you see stars. You moaned loudly at that feeling, his cock slamming into it every time he thrust back in. You couldn’t stop letting out little noises of pleasure, it felt too good. He let out little grunts too, praising you for taking him so well, being such a good little girl.

“Rub your clit for me, darling.” He directed you, breathing becoming heavier, thrusts more erratic. You could tell he was close, but you wanted to orgasm with him. You rubbed your clit harshly, moaning, and tightening around his cock.

“I’m so close!” You cried out, circling faster as he continued to pound in and out of you.

“As am I, little one.” He grunted back. “Come for me, darling. I’ll come for you.”

You allowed yourself to come, soaking his cock with his juices, and he spurted deep inside of you. He groaned as he pulled out, immediately missing the tight warmth of your cunt.

“You did fantastic, love.” He tells you, falling nearly on top of you, worn from the excursion. You gently scratch his scalp with your fingers, soothing him.

“I should be telling you that,” You laugh, continuing to massage his head.

“You are mine now, darling.” He grunts, completely blissed out, resting his head on your chest. “Age does not matter to me, little one.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at him. “I am to be yours, forever.”

“Mine.” He agrees. You don’t say anything back, basking in the afterglow. After tonight, you know that your future plans have shifted, and you couldn’t find it in you to care. You still had that independent woman in you, but now, with a powerful man by your side. You’d found yourself a wonderful man in the President of Panem, and you didn’t plan on letting him go.

©keeplcving 2024. please let me know what you think, and feel free to send me requests! :)

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

[beskarandblasters]

Packin’ (In More Ways Than One)

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: This is inspired by this HOT art by @cass-hues 🍑🔥 Unfortunately, I do not know who made this gif so if that’s you or someone you know, don’t hesitate to inform me and I’ll give credit where it’s due! Thank you to @freelancearsonist for beta reading! 🤍🤍

Summary: You see Din’s bare ass for the first time and get the urge to peg him.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), reader is able-bodied and has no physical description/no genitalia mentioned, anal fingering, sex toys, lube, pegging, praising, pet names (cyar’ika), sonic = shower, refresher = bathroom, no use of y/n

“You’re really going to shower with that bucket on your head?”

Din’s leaning against the doorway of the refresher with a towel sitting low on his hips. He just captured a bounty on Coruscant where it’s currently raining, a downpour that chilled Din to his bones. You suggested that a hop in the sonic would warm him up. But you didn’t expect to see him stripped bare of everything besides his helmet. 

“Yes,” he says plainly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! …You just look a little funny right now, that’s all.” 

“Funny?” he asks, turning and walking to the mirror. But as he walks his towel drops to the floor and you’re met with the sight of his bare ass. And Maker, it is juicy. You had no idea he was hiding that underneath his cape and his flight suit. 

“Oh my-”

“Sorry!” he says, hastily grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his waist.

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to… expose myself like that.”

“I didn’t mind.” 

“Really?”

“But I am a little mad at you right now.”

“Why??”

“You didn’t tell me you were packin’… in more ways than one,” you say, walking and standing beside him in the mirror. 

“Oh… You mean my… behind?” 

“Yes, silly,” you chuckle, running your hand over his ass with the towel in between you two. He tenses up at the motion and you’re just now realizing that he’s probably never had his ass appreciated like this before. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lets you feel up his ass while the towel hangs dangerously low around his hips. 

“Is it weird I want to peg you?”

“No,” he says quickly. 

“No as in…?”

“No, it’s not weird.” 

“Oh,” you say, your eyes widening. “Should I… go to the store?”

“Yes,” he says, without hesitation. 

“Alright, I’ll be back,” you chuckle, grabbing your bag and lowering the exit ramp of the Crest. 

You think of where the nearest sex shop might be and quickly decide that lower levels are your best bet. The rain has thankfully subsided, leaving puddles in the street for neon lights to reflect off of. You cruise the streets, searching for the perfect place until you happen upon a goldmine; Nova’s Novelties. 

The door opens and you step inside, immediately overwhelmed by the sheer volume of sex toys occupying the shelves and walls. There’s a counter in the back where the register is. A woman is there and you can only assume that’s Nova, a beautiful woman with an inviting aura. She makes buying sex toys seem less intimidating. 

“Welcome!” she says, motioning for you to come over. “What brings you in tonight?”

“I’m looking for… a strap-on.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” she smiles, stepping out from behind the counter. “Follow me.”

She brings you to a shelf where there’s a strap on of every size and color, all encased in clear packaging. A silver one catches your eye. 

That’ll match his armor, you think to yourself, stifling a giggle. 

“What do you recommend for a beginner?” 

She reaches and grabs a modest looking one, bright pink in color. 

“This one is great for beginners. Not too big, not too small. And it comes with an adjustable strap.” 

“Thanks!” you say, taking the box from her. “Does it come in any other colors?”

“What were you thinking?”

“…Silver.” 

“You have great taste. Let me check the back.” 

She heads to the back room while you take time to explore the rest of the selection, opting for a bottle of lube, too. Once she emerges with the silver dildo in hand, you check out, handing her a fistful of credits and heading back to the Crest. 

“Have fun!” she says with a suggestive smile just before you step out onto the street. 

As you walk back to the docking yard, you think about Din, waiting for you like such a good boy. You think about the trust he places in you, letting you see him without his armor or his fight suit on and the trust he has to let you do something like this… It’s a testament of your love. 

When you get back in the Crest you find Din, standing in the doorway of the refresher with droplets of water peppered on his skin with steam wafting into the hull from the sonic. His bulge pitches a tent in his towel. You can’t believe your eyes, gawking at how gorgeous he looks. It’s almost criminal he keeps all of this locked away under his armor and it blows your mind that this is the first time you’re seeing him like this. 

“Did you find something?” 

“You bet I did,” you smirk. You take off your bag and hang it on a hook, reaching for the strap-on and the lube. You hold it out in front of you and think about his face underneath the helmet, wondering if he clocked how the dildo matches his armor. 

“You like?” you ask. 

“I do.”

“Good…” you say, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. His skin is warm, still slightly damp from the sonic. “Now be a good boy and get in the bunk for me.”

“Yes, cyar’ika,” he says, dropping his towel and walking across the hull to the bunk. 

He gets on all fours on the bed while you shed your clothes and take the strap out of the packaging, setting it on the edge of the bunk because you’re not ready for it just yet. 

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” you say, kneeling behind him and cupping his ass. 

“Y-Yes, I promise.” 

“Don’t worry,” you giggle, “I’ll go nice and slow at first.” 

You squeeze lube onto your index finger, coating his hole with it and teasing it lightly. He lets out a small whimper in response, already aching for more. 

“What was that?”

“I… want it… already.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you say, sliding your finger in. 

His breath hitches before he exhales with a moan while you slowly work his hole. You curl your finger while your other hand caresses his ass. 

“More,” he softly begs. 

“Be patient,” you coo. 

He sighs, resting his helmet down on the pillow and sticking his ass up higher. Never in a million years did you think you’d have Din in a face-down ass-up position and yet here you are, enjoying every minute of it. 

You pull your hand from his ass and add lube to your middle finger, pushing both back inside simultaneously. A deeper, guttural moan forces its way out of his throat as he melts into the cot faster than a block of ice on Tatooine. 

“Good boy,” you praise, pushing your fingers against his prostate. “But I’m far from done with you.”

“I know,” he whimpers. 

You feel his hole relax around your fingers and a slew of whispers and Mando’a curse words slip out from under the helmet. 

“Cyar’ika, I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh yeah? Let me feel it.” 

He cums around your fingers, a different kind of orgasm he’s never experienced before. His thighs shake beneath him as he rides out his high. 

“Such a good boy for me,” you praise, slowing the movement of your fingers to a stop. You pull them from his ass and get off the bed, putting on the harness and attaching the strap. “But are you ready for more?” 

“Yes,” he sputters, staying in the same face-down ass-up position for you. 

You walk to the front end of the bed, crouching down by his helmet and telling him, “You’re doing so well, baby, coming for me like that.” 

“I am?”

“Mhm,” you whisper, rubbing his back. He shudders at your touch, eliciting a giggle from you. 

“You’re so sensitive right now, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” he sighs. 

“It’s almost over,” you remind him, taking your rightful position by his ass again. 

You spread lube onto the strap and align it with his hole, one hand holding his hip as you thrust into him slowly. He lets out another string of curse words in Mando’a. It’s unintelligible but it’s a sign of how good he feels. 

“You like that?” you chuckle. 

“Yes. So much, cyar’ika,” he moans, just as you draw your hips back and thrust into him again. You put your other hand on his hip, holding onto him as you thrust in and out, working him up to his impending orgasm. His moans, grunts, and whimpers are melodic, like music to your ears. It fills you with a deep sense of pride that you can reduce your big strong Mandalorian to a whimpering mess with just your fingers and a strap. 

“Cyar’ika?” he whines. 

“Yes?” you smirk. 

“I’m gonna-”

“Gonna cum again?”

“Y-Yes.” 

“Do it,” you command, making sure your pace never falters. 

Another moan escapes his throat, slipping out from under his helmet in his beautiful, modulated tone. His whole body shakes with pleasure, quivering as you fuck him through his high, being sure to slow down slightly to not overstimulate him. 

Once he’s done you pull out of him, letting him collapse onto the bunk. Aftershocks of his orgasm make him quiver here and there, his ass shaking with each involuntary movement. You giggle watching him rest peacefully after you just fucked the living daylights out of him. 

You crouch down and whisper, “Looks like you need to hop in the sonic again.” 

“I know,” he groans. 

“I’ll join you.”

“Let’s go,” he says, shooting up and heading to the refresher. He has that specific walk about him, the kind where you walk side to side after a good dicking down. It looks good on him, you decide.  

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

[the-fiction-witch]

Young Love P1

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Adorable

Requested

I have a request can you make one where y/n has been lying to her parents about dating a guy and her parents demand to meet this guy or she will have a arranged marriage with Sneed, so she turns to one of her good friend's Dr. Dawkins and after begging he agrees and the while they have a fake relationship he actually falls inlove with y/n? (Love your stories btw ❤ and could you add some smut?)

I sat in my room as usual in my small book nook, a small divot in the walls due to the strange renovation of our old house that I had lined with bookshelves and a small mattress to form a beautiful nook of books, My book in hand and my necklace pendent between my teeth as I read the alluring words. When my mother burst into my room so I returned my book to the self and sat up. She stood for a moment in her long blue dress fixing her hair a moment. 

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"You're father wishes to speak with you princess." 

I rolled my eyes but hopped out of my nook and followed her through to father's study,  the room dark lit only by candlelight, his desk tidy and neat, his clothes lose where he had been frustrated in his thoughts, he sat at his desk as usual so I sat across from him as my mother perched herself on the corner. 

"Hello Princess," He smiled,

"Hello, Father." I nodded, "What uhh what brings me to the office today?"

"We have a very important matter to discuss."

"Alright," I sighed trying not to seem annoyed by all this,

"The subject of your social life troubles us." He began as he took my mother's hand,

Ohh no not this again!

"I assure you my social life is fine Father."

"Y/n, Princess, you have turned down the last seven ball invitations."

"I didn't know the ladies that well..."

"You barely wish to come on a walk with us, let alone with your sister."

"I find town too hot..."

"You have refused your last four suitors before even meeting them. All you've done this whole year is sit in your room reading your books."

Well... they had me there. And I do not really have an excuse for that.

"Princess we are worried, the last thing we would want is for you to be labelled a spinster or old maid, we want you to go out and enjoy the social life a young lady should have, you should be attending balls, walking in the town, meeting suitors, courting, falling in love a hundred times a day. as a young lady should." My mother chimed in,

I mean... I am falling in love a hundred times a day, they are just usually unreciprocal, and fictional. "I uhhh I..."

"We want you to fall in love, the sweetness of young love is something we wish to never deprive you of princess." He smiled, "Ohh to be young again my dearest?" He asked her,

"Oh it would be a dream," She smiled, "To once again feel the thrill of a sneak away,"

"The passion of a secret kiss,"

"The power of the vision of you outside my window,"

"The secret little snuggles and loving words in the dark"

for a moment I may as well have not been here, it's times like this I am so happy my parents are so utterly in love, even if it is a little weird to me. But they had always been this way and It was sweet, and I knew they had the best in mind for me.

"So, we are going to have to be... tough on you."

"How so?" I asked,

"If you do not start attending events, social functions, and other such things then... we will have to take our own action."

"Action?"

"You have one month to leave your bookworm cacoon and flutter forth as a social butterfly and show signs of at least attempting to look for a boyfriend or... we shall arrange you a marriage"

"WHAT!!" I got up from the chair, "A month! Father, mother, I am not a social butterfly I am not, I have never been, I never will be, and I do not want to be, Why would you do such a thing?"

"Becuase we want you to be happy, to find a sweet man and feel all the sweetness of love, if you will not at least try then we have no alternative." My mother explained,

"We do not do this out of cruelty Y/n, in fact, it pains us so to see you be shipped away with an arranged marriage, something we never wanted for you, your brother or your sisters, we wanted you to feel the thrill of young love but if you are unwilling we will have to marry you off," Father explained, 

"To whom!"

"Dr Rainsford Sneed has more than once offered over you,"

"SNEED!" I yelled, "I am not marrying snivelling slimy Sneed." 

"Well, we don't have a choice we can not deny him any longer,"

"What if I have a boyfriend!"

"What?" my mother asked,

"What if I... already have a boyfriend, a secret one."

"Ohh my, is it true princess?" My father asked, "Do you?"

"Uhhhhh Yes." I lied,

"Ohh this is joyous news! you know we had suspected that perhaps your lack of social willingness had been from your love for another."

"Yes. Yes. that is the reason yes I have a secret lover. That is why I have denied all others, that is why I do not socialize." 

"We have noticed your, exits."

Oh shit. "My- Yes, yes my secret exists to go and visit with my lover..." I lied, I have no lover, I have no man, and I have been sneaking out to play poker. 

"we have noticed you coming and going, secretly. Princess why did you feel the need to hide such things from us,"

"Well, I..."

"We are overjoyed."

"Of course, we couldn't be happier that our sweet girl is feeling the sweet thrill of young love," My mother smiled "Tell us have you two known one another long?"

"Yes, a fair while now" I lied,

"Ahh wonderful, you two are in love?" My father asked,

"Yes, yes deeply in love." 

"Ohh how sweet, and you sneak out together?"

"Yes,"

"You kiss in secret ways, and love each other intimately?"

"...Yes." I nodded, My parents are strange about this sort of thing always have been, they were utterly in love and were very open with their love and affection to one another and had always had an interest in... my siblings and I's... Sex lives. I assume part of it was them living through us to recall their own happy young love times. 

"Ohh this is such wonderful news." My mother smiled, 

"So I don't have to marry Sneed?"

"Of course not," My father smiled, "We shall have to meet this man."

"Uhh what?"

"We shall have to meet him! we must it is ever so exciting."

"Uhhh yes... yes you uhh you should meet him."

"well then it's settled, dinner on Thursday. you must bring him we insist." My father told me before he sent me back to my room, 

The moment my door was shut "Fuck! shit! why did I say that!" 

I sat in the cat and bagpipes having snuck out for poker as usual, the game going on as usual while my mind raced, I needed to find a man by tomorrow! to bring to family dinner! and pretend he's my boyfriend... 

I need a man. 

But where does one find a man?

A clean one. 

Ehhh he doesn't need to be that clean,

I pondered for a while, most men I know are from poker, and most of them are married. 

But I glanced up a moment as a coin entered the centre, and I looked at the man sat next to me on the table, He sat in his usual grey and half-bloody clothes from his work at the hospital, his jacket behind him and his sleeves pushed up as often due to his skill he was accused of cheating. His cards were on the table in front of him, his face unable to read, he added a coin to the pile and slipped his hand back, his other hand doing his usual trick, of dancing his lucky coin across his fingers. He saw me looking at him and smiled at me but with a questionable look. 

Jack and I knew each other well, as we both had a passion for poker, I'd... go so far as to call him my friend. Was I attracted to him? No. He's just a good poker player and often we'd team up against a cheating dick like Darius. 

And then it clicked... 

Jack is a man. 

Well... close enough. 

The guy gave in and Jack won so the man left the table leaving us alone as he took his winnings to his chest. And then he looked back at me. 

"Something bothering you y/n?"

"Can I ask you a weird question?"

".... Sure," he said a little concerned, 

"You're a man aren't you?"

"... what sort of question is that?" he glared, 

"My question. Answer."

"Yes. I'm a man."

"You have the... thingy right?"

He glared across the table "The what?"

"A dick?"

"... Yes! why are you asking!" He said very hushed, 

"... You wanna come to my house on Thursday,"

"Why?"

"Dinner."

"Uhhh... yeah sure." He shrugged, 

"Good, six. Be Prompt." 

"I will do." he nodded, "Are we playing again?"

"Sure," I smiled taking the cards to deal. 

I stood nervously, I know I should have told him but... he'd never agreed if I did. I got dressed into my little green and black dress sitting in my book nook as my sisters used my room.

"It's ever so exciting isn't it Melody?" My elder sister Magnolia asked from my dusty vanity as she was using my room to fix her hair, 

"It truly is! Ever so exciting!" Melody my younger sister smiled as she was still getting dressed as she couldn't pick what she wanted to wear more, 

"I don't know what everyone is so excited about." I sighed, 

"Y/n. This is a very exciting moment, we are to finally meet the man who has captured your heart." Magnolia smiled

"Well let's not go crazy with excitement, he's just a man Maggie," I said, 

"But he is your man! And that is so exciting!" Melody smiled, 

 "Do we get to know his name?" Magnolia asked 

"Jack."

"Jack, Awww he Sounds so perfect! What does he look like!" Melody giggled,

"Well, you're about to find out."

"I bet he's handsome," Melody smiled,

"Charming," Magnolia smiled,

"Stunning,"

"Sweet,"

"seductive,"

"Compassionate"

"You two are boy crazy," I sighed,

"I'm married! I am only Sam Crazy." Magnolia argued,

"I'm allowed to be boy crazy! I can't get married till you do y/n!" Melody complained, 

"I know, I know just... don't make a big thing out of this," I told them,

"Y/n. this is the first man you have ever brought home, mother is excited, Father is excited, Melody and I are excited." She explained, "We just want you to be happy."

"I know." I nodded, 

Once ready we headed down to the parlour where everyone sat having a drink and chatting, my father and my mother peaking out the window trying to see if they could see who was coming, Magnolia with her husband Sam whispering over a glass of wine, Melody stood by the fire playing with her dress excitedly, and my brother Peter drinking with his wife Lisa, I heard the door and my heart sunk. 

Welp... guess it's time. 

"Go on princess." My father smiled,

So I nodded and headed out the parlour and to the front door opening it up to see Jack with a typical smile,

"Hey,"

"Hi." I gulped letting him in, 

"Sorry, I'm a bit late hold up at the hospital," he said slipping off his hat and Jacket,

"You're fine."

"You alright? You look nice."

"Thank you uhh... Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I am... really sorry." I whispered grabbing his hand and tugging him into the parlour he followed very confused and shocked as he was presented by to my family who all looked at him like he was a prize-winning pig at a fair judging his every inch but looking thrilled and excited, "Everyone, This is Dr Jack Dawkins." 

And of course, a million billion questions came jumping down his throat which he did his best to answer given he had no clue what was happening, I sat on the sofa and just drank to try and avoid this whole situation.

"Wonderful, now dinner won't be a moment you can all return to your rooms" My mother smiled, "Give you all some... alone time." She winked at me, 

and I very quickly ushered Jack to my room and shut everyone out before there could be any more questions. And as I locked the door understandably... he looked pissed.

"Okay! You wanna tell me what the bloody hell is going on!" 

"SHhhhh!" I told him, 

"No I will not shhh what is going on?"

"Jack... I can explain."

"Yeah please do."

"My parents... are weird."

"I noticed."

"They are unhappy about me not being... social."

"You are pretty anti-social."

"Hey!"

"what! you are?"

"And they have this weird thing about being involved in my life, well all our lives really. And they want me to be happy and in love, and active! and I really would rather not. But... they have gotten insistent."

"Insistent?"

"They said if I don't find a boyfriend in a month they'll marry me to Sneed."

"Sneed?" he laughed, "Awww Mrs. Y/n Sneed."

"Shut up Jack." I sighed, "Oddly enough I had to stop them so... I lied, and said I had a boyfriend."

"Okay... where do I? come into all this?"

"I lied and told them I had a boyfriend then they... called my bluff. Said they wanted to meet him and planned this whole dinner tonight to meet him. And I didn't know what else do to so... I Invited you, was gonna pretend you're my boyfriend." 

"Well, that's not cryptic and psychopathic at all..."

"Are you in?"

"Hell no!"

"What!"

"No way! I'm not pretending to be your boyfriend just to satisfy your parents."

"Jack, please! They'll marry me to sneed if you don't,"

"Not my problem." He said, "Maybe if you'd not been so antisocial you wouldn't be in this mess."

"I don't like people you know that,"

"You could have at least asked me? told me I was walking into a fucking meet-the-boyfriend dinner! I thought I was coming to just a simple dinner with you and we'd play poker tonight I was not prepared or warned!" 

"I know I know! I thought if I told you you'd say no."

"yes! I would have!"

"Well, you're here not it too late."

"No, it bloody well isn't. I am leaving." 

"No your not!"

"Try and stop me." He said trying to get past me and out the door,

"No! no no no Jack you're not leaving." I battled with him,

"You can't just kidnap me and pretend I'm your boyfriend!"

"Yes I can!"

"No, you can't! You leave now they'll marry me to Sneed! and I am not letting that happen!"

"You can't just keep me here!"

"Jack Please!" 

"...What?" his face softened and he moved back, 

"Please! Please! Please! I don't wanna marry Sneed, I don't wanna marry anyone this is the only way I can buy myself time, I can get out of this please!" I began to cry, "Please... Please just stay."

He sighed, "Alright, I'll stay." he wiped my tears away, "But I'm still angry with you."

"I know..." I nodded, "Thank you Jack." 

"I wanna be compensated for this."

"what?"

"I'm having to pretend to be your boyfriend... I want compensation."

"Fore, what?"

"My steller acting." 

I rolled my eyes, "Two beers."

"get lost. Beers for two months."

"That's extortionate!" 

"Need me or not?"

"... Ughh! you are infuriating, Beers for two days,"

"Two weeks."

"One week. and... three pounds."

"Ten."

"Five."

"Deal." He agreed, 

"Thank you," I sighed, 

"... Am I gonna have to... be nice to you?"

"Yes." I glared,

"Am I gonna have to kiss you?"

"Maybe."

"My rate is a pound a kiss."

"What! Jack that's insane!"

"My kisses are just that good."

"I am not paying a pound for a kiss!"

"I'm open to negotiations"

"Nothing Per kiss."

"A Pound and a shilling because you're pissing me off."

"Ughh! One cookie a kiss how about that?"

"...I can agree to that." He nods, "Homemade?"

"Yes."

"Alright, It's a deal. but you go back on this and I will tell them everything."

"Fine." I sighed, "But I want an acting performance the globe would be envious of Jack."

"Ohh it will be, just try and keep up with me," he smirked, 

"Dinners ready!" My sister Melody called as she opened my door, 

But the moment it clicked open Jack set his hands on my waist and pulled me close to him kissing my lips, I was shocked! but he was certainly not a bad kisser, I see why he'd be charging a pound for these, I kinda... feel like I'm a dick for lowballing him now. But he pulled back and left me rather breathless before he looked up at my sister, 

"Ohh Do Excuse us." he cooed, "We'll be right down. Won't we My darling?" He asked me,

"Uhhhhh yes, Yeah uhh Tell mother we'll be right down Melody," I nodded, 

So she happily scampered off, and we separated, "What?" he chuckled,

"Warning would have been nice." I gasped straightening myself up,

"Yeah well, I'd have liked a warning about being dropped into a family gathering as the new boyfriend."

"Fair enough, shall we go then..." I gulped heading to the door but he stopped me,

"Before we go."

"What?" 

"...You're gonna have to remind me who everyone is I really wasn't listening when they told me. and also who everyone is in relation to you and by extension me?" 

I rolled my eyes a little, "My parents, mother and father Eliza and Henry. Peter is my older brother, Lisa is his wife, Magnolia but everyone calls her Maggie is my older sister, Sam is her husband, Then there is me and by extension you, and then Melody she's the baby sister." 

"Right... Got it." He nodded 

"Let's get this over with," I sighed, 

"Ahhh young love" He cooed following along behind me,

"You're really gonna enjoy this aren't you?"

"Yes I am." 

[nanawritesit]

Obey Me! Dateables: How They Would React to Walking in on You Changing (NSFW/ 18+/ MDNI) 🔞

A/N: This was requested by @morningsstaravatar on the ver. with the brothers 🥰 I’ll just let you know as a warning that this is waaaaayyyy spicier than the previous one, mostly bc my writing style and skills have developed immensely since then 😂 but I still hope you enjoy! :)

Characters: Diavolo, Babatos, Simeon, and Solomon

TW: some horny ass demons, making out, groping, mentions of partial nudity, suggestive remarks, alluding to sex, corruption motif with Simeon, use of “sir” and mentor/apprentice dynamic with Solomon, mild cursing

Diavolo:

It was late at night, and another one of Diavolo’s famous birthday celebration balls were winding down to an end. You yawned as you walked on over to the exit to follow the brothers out to the House of Lamentation.

“Hold on just a moment, everyone…” Diavolo said, rushing over to your group. “It’s so late already, why don’t you all just stay here for the night? We have plenty of guest rooms.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Well, we certainly can’t turn down an invitation from the Demon Lord, can we?”

You all nodded and laughed in agreement, allowing him to lead you upstairs and show you to each your rooms. You were one of the first ones given a bedroom, so you explored the room a bit before settling in. You began removing your gown/ suit, allowing it to slide down your body, when your door swung open.

“MC, I brought you some extra blankets for- oh my goodness!” Diavolo cut himself off as the door swung shut behind him, dropping the blankets on the floor in front of him. He immediately covered his eyes with his hands. “Ah, I apologize! That was quite rude of me to enter without permission!”

Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, and you immediately grabbed your clothes to cover yourself back up. “Lord Diavolo!”

“I should just go…” he nodded to himself, turning around to exit your room. However as he turned the door handle, he realized it was stuck, and that the door would not open.

“Well um… this is really awkward, but I’m pretty sure we’re both locked in this room for the night.” he told you, squinting his eyes in embarrassment.

You rushed over to him, clutching your clothes to your chest with one hand and jiggling the handle with the other. You sighed, then began laughing at how ridiculous the situation was.

“Oh, of course this would happen to me…” you chuckled, shaking your head. Once your laughter had died down, you looked back over to Diavolo, who was still facing the door as to avoid looking at you. You tapped on his shoulder, causing him to turn around. “It’s alright, everything’s already out in the open.”

“I really am truly sorry.” he exhaled, chuckling slightly as well. He ran a hand through his hair to steady himself before making eye contact with you once more. He took in the sight of you for a moment, looking as if he was thinking something over in his head. “Forgive me for saying so, but… you really are beautiful, MC.”

You blushed at his compliment and the feeling of his eyes on you once again. “Thank you, my Lord… hearing that from you makes my heart soar.”

He walked over to you, half nervous and half confident but fully committed to his plan of action, and took your face in his hands, examining your face as if it were a work of art. “I don’t think I can restrain myself anymore. May I kiss you?”

Your heart stopped. You had dreamed of this moment for so long, and now that it was actually happening, your body wasn’t quite sure how to react. All you could manage was a clunky nod, but it was all the confirmation he needed. His lips were on yours in an instant, soft and delicate at first, but gaining intensity and passion as time went on.

You needed him closer, to feel more of him. You lost all reserve as his tongue slipped into your mouth and brought your arms up to his chest, running your hands along it to feel his strong muscles and the pounding of his heart. No longer being held to your chest, the rest of your outfit slid down your body once more, leaving you half naked in his arms.

“Can I…?” he huffed, pulling away quickly with his forehead still pressed against yours. His hand was hovering over your waist. You nodded frantically, desperately shoving your lips back against his to continue the kiss. His hands began roaming your body with your permission, until he leaned down to tap the back of your knee, signaling you to jump up in his arms. You did as instructed, and he carried you over to the bed, setting you down and crawling overtop of you. Only then did he break the kiss to look you in the eyes. “I’d like to make you mine tonight. Is that alright with you?”

Barbatos:

Barbatos was on yet another top secret mission to thwart an assassination attempt on Lord Diavolo. He had just taken care of the assailant, and was on his way back to the Demon Lord’s castle, when he sensed he was being followed. Not wanting to lead the culprit directly into the castle behind him, he decided to take a detour until he could lose them, ending up at the House of Lamentation.

Entering the hall and locking the door behind him, he crept up the stairs and walked into the only room with the light still on in the middle of the night: yours.

You were getting ready for bed, undressing in front of your bed, when he entered your room, startling you. “Barb-“ he cut you off by placing a hand over your mouth and lifting a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. He crept over to your window and glanced all around the outside of the building until he was sure he was safe.

“What a relief, perhaps it was just my paranoia gettting the best of me…” he sighed, gasping for air as if he had been holding his breath. He turned to face you, eyes widening as he took in the sight before him. “Oh, MC, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were….”

You giggled at his stuttering, relaxing slightly. “It’s okay, Barbatos. I’d just like a little warning next time you’re planning on coming over.” You walked back over to your bed to finish putting on your sleep clothes, seemingly unaffected by his presence.

“You mean… I’m invited to your room in the future?” he asked, a sudden mischievous grin curling up his lips.

You glanced back over at him, nodding cutely. “Anytime you want. Especially at this hour.”

His eyes raked over your indecent body, more intently this time, then he began taking slow strides over to you. “Are you suggesting the two of us begin an affair? Because, I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Honestly Barbatos, I thought you would’ve caught on by now.” you rolled your eyes playfully, turning to face him completely. “Why do you think I’m always over at the castle asking for cooking advice, or borrowing books, or offering to help with your chores? It’s because I’m attracted to you.”

A pleased expression was evident on his face as he reached forward to place his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. “I assumed I was only a side character in your romance story. However, I would be happy to service you as a lover…”

You smiled cheekily, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Nothing would pleasure me more.”

He brought a finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him to examine your features more closely. His eyes then clamped back onto yours with a sudden intensity. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, MC. I don’t take any job lightly, let alone a relationship with you.”

“That’s a promise I’ll see that you keep.” you smirked, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

He grinned, then leaned down to kiss you, one hand cupping your face and the other snaking up your body to feel your exposed chest. You shifted in his hold as if to grant him permission, your own hands moving up into his hair to grip and tug at it lightly. He pulled back breathlessly to gaze into your eyes once more. “I’m looking forward to devouring you my dear. Is that your wish?”

Simeon:

You were staying over at Purgatory Hall for a sleepover with Simeon, Luke, and Solomon. Luke and Solomon had gone to bed long ago, no doubt fast asleep in their own bedrooms. You and Simeon were sitting on the couch drinking tea, lost in a spirited conversation with each other.

“Oh my, it’s quite late...” he exclaimed as he glanced at the clock. “We really should be getting to bed.”

“Yeah, I suppose we should.” you agreed, moving to get up. You reached for the tea set, to which Simeon gently held your wrist.

“It’s alright, I’ll clean up. You’re a guest here.” he smiled warmly.

You nodded appreciatively. “Goodnight Simeon.”

“Goodnight MC.”

You made your way back to your guest room, blushing slightly as you thought about how he had touched you, then began undressing to change into your pajamas.

“MC, you forgot your-“ you snapped around to see Simeon entering your bedroom, freezing in place as he realized what he had just walked in on.

You clutched your shirt to your bare chest, an amused smile making its way onto your face. “Well don’t stare dear, it’s rude.”

It was as if the sound of your voice snapped him out of a trance, and his face immediately flushed a deep shade of crimson. He squinted his eyes shut and turned towards the door. “I am so sorry. I really should have knocked, knowing you’d be getting ready for bed. I mean, not that I’m complaining, but… Oh goodness, I can’t believe I just said that! I…”

You chuckled, tossing your shirt to the side and tiptoeing over to him. The knowledge of him being pleased at the sight of you gave you all the confidence you needed to make your next move. You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your chest to his back and resting your head on his shoulder. You felt his breath hitch in his throat at the feeling of your bare form against his back, all of his muscles going rigid.

“You’re more than welcome to look, Simeon.” you practically purred into his ear.

He exhaled slowly as if gathering his self control. “I-I don’t think that would be a very angelic thing to do…”

You sniggered, tightening your grip on his waist and pressing yourself even further into him. “You mean you don’t want to?”

He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “Oh trust me, I do. I really do, but…”

“Simeon… why don’t you just give in?” you pleaded, turning him around in your arms. He showed no sign of reluctance and simply let himself be guided by your actions. “Open your eyes, dear.”

He did as you instructed, although slowly. As soon as he could register the sight of you topless in front of him, he lost all reserve.

“Oh wow…” he breathed, hands coming up to your waist almost instinctively. “MC, you’re breathtaking.”

You smiled at his affections. “Thank you, so are you…” You brought your arms up around his neck. “You can touch me, I don’t mind.”

He gulped, slowly bringing his shaking hands to your chest. Finally, they began roaming across it, groping slightly. He then brought his eyes back up to yours. “This might be a dense question to ask at this point, but… may I kiss you?”

You grinned, nodding up at him. Slowly, be titled his head to the side and leaned down, until his lips were just ghosting yours. You sensed his hesitation, and impatiently stood on your tiptoes to close the distance between the two of you. He held his breath in shock, but quickly relaxed, bringing a hand up to your cheek and tightening his grip on your chest. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring it until he was out of breath and pulling away from you reluctantly.

“MC… would you mind staying up with me a bit longer? I have a few more things I’d like to try…”

Solomon:

You were up in your bedroom practicing some spells after school. The cauldron was smoking hot, since you were having more trouble than you thought you would, and after a while you decided to shed your uniform jacket and shirt, leaving you in just your skirt/pants and tights/socks. Just as you began tying your hair back, your door clicked open, and in walked Solomon.

His eyes widened for maybe half a second, then a sly grin crept its way onto his face. He shut the door behind him and clicked the lock shut.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” he asked, walking over to you. “Is my sexy little student practicing their seduction spells for me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” you scoffed, obvisouly not phased by his attempts to fluster you. “It’s for my hexing class. These potions just get so damn hot sometimes.”

“Well, we could always hop in the shower and cool off.” he suggested with a smirk, leaning against the table next to you.

You rolled your eyes. “Listen, either help me with this, or get out. My test is tomorrow.”

He glanced momentarily at your textbook, then swiftly grabbed a couple ingredients from your altar. He mixed them into your cauldron, causing a red cloud of smoke to slowly dissipate and reveal a calm, glittering potion.

You shook your head in amazement, fighting the relieved grin that threatened to appear on your expression. “You’re ridiculous…”

“No, I’m the best mentor you’ve ever had.” he grinned cockily. “Now, are you going to be a good little apprentice and express your thanks?”

You sighed, thinking to yourself for a moment. You realized then that the only way to put him in his place was to match his energy. You smirked to yourself, then walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You looked up at him with huge doe eyes, pouting your lip slightly.

“Thank you so much for helping me, sir. I’m so glad you walked in on me so clearly in need.” you beamed cheekily.

He was indeed caught off guard, cheeks heating up immensely at your suggestiveness. He slowly put his hands on your waist, shifting slightly in your hold. “Damn, are you sure this wasn’t a seduction potion?”

You shook your head, smile still wide on your face. “Nope. Although you walking in on me half naked like this isn’t exactly helping my case.”

He scoffed, slowly catching on to your plan to fluster him. “You are such a little tease, you know that?”

You shrugged, not breaking eye contact for a second. “What are you going to do about it, sir?”

He breathed out a shaky exhale, shaking his head at you. “Oh, have I got a few things in mind for you…” He then leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss, pressing his body flush against yours. You kissed each other roughly, hands roaming all over each others bodies until he caught your bottom lip between his teeth, biting it just enough to make you wince before releasing it and pulling away to meet your eyes. “Now, on your knees like a good little apprentice.”

[bedoballoons]

Genshin Men react to Their Thirsty fanart?😊

Ooooooo oh my gosh I love this!!! I hope you liked the characters I picked! If you'd like to see others just let me know! <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Reacting to their thirsty fanarts~༺}

A/n: Slightly suggestive! A lot of characters this time because I went alittle crazy! (None of the artwork in this is mine! If you look in the reblogs the artists names are there! All credit goes to them and thank you again to that person who sourced them for me!)

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, Wanderer, Kazuha, Childe and Neuvillette!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

Diluc would clear his throat, inspecting the picture while his cheeks became tinted with a light pink colour, his hand running through his firey red hair as he tried to think of what to say, settling with a safer answer. "Well...this is certainly a very amazing piece of artwork. It does however seem a bit...suggestive...flattering yes, but not very true to life. I've personally never held my claymore in that way or sat in that particular.. position. Still, I thank you respectfully for taking your time to draw me...even if it might have given others a bit to much...inspiration."

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney would take one look at the picture, a smirk playing on his lips as his violet eyes clouded over with mischief and flattery, possibly even a tad bit of lust, "Seems I've caught the attention of some incredible artists, their work is truly magnifique! Hmm..., because they've drawn me so beautifully and one of the main things a magician is supposed to do is please his watchers, I'll do a little comparison between the art and myself...so you can all see it for real~" He'd tip his hat before starting to recreate the pose, arching his back slightly and winking in your direction, his finger up against his mouth as he shushed you, his other hand holding the ace of hearts just right so you could see it. Seems he enjoys the attention the fanarts give him, even to the point of hoping everyone will creat more~

𑁍༄Albedo:

(...is he wearing bottoms in this picture? Cause like I'm not gonna lie...I'm not really sure...)

"Goodness..." Albedo would stare at the artwork of himself for a moment, trying to collect his words as even his pale skin turned cherry red. His voice would be shaky because of his flustered state and he'd mess up words whenever he glanced at the picture, but eventually he'd manage to say this,"I don't really know where t-to begin, I mean the art itself is impeccable, v-very stylised...and ehem...the artist clearly...k-knows their anatomy. I-...thank you for drawing me." He'd look away, his heart racing in his chest and his mind plagued with new thoughts like...would he actually look good in that situation...would people want to see it...should he...try it?

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer would look at the picture, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open for a second, "W-what the hell is this?!? Why am I w-wet in it??? Perverts!" He'd clench his hands into fists, putting on quite the show as he tossed the drawing behind him and stomped away like he's just been highly offended...even though deep down, he found it slightly...appealing. To think someone actually had the nerve to draw him so scandalously...perhaps he'd have to find the artists who had done so, just to show them how wrong of a choice they'd made~

𑁍༄Kazuha:

"Oh my..." Kazuha would say, a blush spreading across his face and his calm personality faltering for just a second, before he quickly recomposed himself, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he chose the best words to say, "The art is very beautiful, I must say they've flattered me alot though...I don't truthfully look like that...not nearly as handsome. As for the marks...on the n-neck, I don't currently have any..." He'd probably mean that last sentence as a means to say he wasn't currently in a relationship, but to anyone who had heard it...they took it as a invitation to give him some~

𑁍༄Childe:

Childe would smile happily, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed and his chest slightly puffed up with pride, "Comrades please, you all make me blush, the art is wonderful and in no small part because I'm in it...,but I assure you the real thing is better. I win, even in regards to myself.." He'd wink at you, leaving you captivated by his charm even though what he had said sounded silly.

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

Neuvillette would look at the art for awhile, his purple hued eyes widening as he scanned it into his memory and rested his chin in his hand, his long white hair drapping over his shoulders as he wondered if someone had caught him changing, since how could they make something so accurate otherwise... "Apologies, but where did you get this again? The drawing itself is indeed very beautiful and well crafted, I believe the artist who made this should be very proud...I'm just curious how they know what I look like shirtless...and who else might know as well."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚I hope you enjoyed*⁠.⁠✧

(Open!) Taglist: @kiokiee

[captain-mj]

Collecting

Toxic mlm??

Graves is an inherently jealous person. He sees things he likes and he gets them.

When he saw Price, that's what was on his mind. He wanted him. Badly.

It started subtle. Graves kept finding excuses to give Price things. Watches, hats, beanies, jackets. Something that you'd see as soon as you looked at him. Any time Price would wear those things, because why would he not? Graves would beam with pride.

He tried not to be too outwardly jealous. Really he didn’t. When he saw Price talking to people, especially people outside their units. Civilians didn’t understand. They really didn’t. They treated Price like a regular man. As if you could find someone like him on the street. He didn't like them treating his things like that.

Graves stayed in check for a long time, playing the innocent commander of the Shadows. But this civvie tonight just... got a little touchy. Their hands... ran up Price's arm and unlike usual, Price smiled back. Indulged.

Graves downed his drink and slammed it down, catching their attention. Price glared at him and Graves bit his tongue. The civvie ran off and left the two of them alone again. Farah, the only reason both were in the same room, had already left to do who knows what and the others that got invited also left. Some were dancing but it felt a little like no one had wanted to stick around the two of them.

"You can't get laid so no one else is allowed to?" Price growled at him, something almost leering in his gaze. The intensity had Graves almost feeling scolded. Almost.

Graves licked his lips and he could see Price watching the movement. "I don't want to sleep with anyone. Especially not a civvie acting like that."

"Like what? Flirty? Nice?"

"Pathetic." Graves growled at him.

Price rolled his eyes. "Someone might flirt with you if you stopped looking so sour."

Graves huffed. "I just said I don't want them."

"Then why are you jealous?" Price smirked for a moment before he faltered. "Phil..."

Graves threw down some money to pay both their tabs. "John." There was an invitation. A split second of such extreme tension Graves didn't know if he wanted to attack him or fuck him against the table right then and there.

Price followed him after a moment, trailing behind him as Graves walked back to the hotel he was paying for. He had bought Farah and Alex a room each as well, but everyone else was on their own. They were quiet as could be until the door shut.

Price grabbed him by his collar and shoved him into the door. His mouth was on him and it felt like his tongue was trying to batter it's way in.

Graves bit Price's lip until he felt blood. Price picked him up and tossed him on the bed. He bounced a little and then Price was on top of him, devouring him.

Graves wrapped his legs around Price and did a rather artful flip. "You're gorgeous. A work of damn art." He pulled his shirt off. "Right there with the Sistine Chapel."

Price grabbed his hips but he shut up and stayed down, watching him with beautiful blue eyes.

"So yeah. I want your attention. I want your time. And I'm about to ride you until you go fucking stupid." Graves shoved Price's pants down. "Unless you're going to say no?"

Price clenched his jaw but nodded his consent. "Go for it. Let's hope you're better at this then flirting."

"Oh I can be a real Casanova when I want to. I just didn't think this would catch your attention. I was right." He grabbed his cock and stroked him, very happy to find how hard he was. Graves spent a lot less time prepping than he should. Especially seeing how well endowed Price was. But he didn't feel like giving a show and he wanted his cock fast.

Price tried to grab his hips but his movement stuttered when he felt Graves start to sink down. "Don't hurt yourself..."

Graves huffed. "Just shut up."

"Make me."

They started snapping and biting at each other like dogs while Graves adjusted. Teeth sank deep into shoulders and hickeys were left that would take days to fade away. His hips twisted and Price moaned loudly, thrusting up into him.

"Fuck..." Graves hissed but it felt so good. The stretch hurt but he could work with it. They sped up, both fighting for more control. Graves's nails raked over Price's chest and he arched into it rather than away.

Price started to turn red and his mouth fell open as he started to get close. Graves paused and he went from blissed out to angry. He lashed out at him, yanking him by his hips up and then down hard. Pleasure raked through Graves when he did that and he let Price use him. He yanked him around like a doll but neither could really keep things straight.

Price came inside him, flopping back into the sheets. He went to stroke Graves off but Graves shoved him away and started to rock onto him, ignoring that Price was actively getting softer. "Wait, I'm not exactly a young man here." He pushed against Graves's abs as he groaned.

Grave put his hands on Price's shoulders. "Come on. Can't get it up?"

Price's cock twitched inside him. "Fucking hell..."

"Look at me, John. How do you think your soldiers would react if they knew you were here?"

Price growled at him but he notably stayed down.

"Sleeping with the enemy. Tsk tsk. And you're enjoying it." Graves grinned as he could feel him getting harder. "Too many thoughts in that pretty head of yours."

"I'm a Captain. Can't let myself get distracted."

Graves kissed him softly and twisted his hips slowly, feeling more than hearing Price's hitch of breath. Now that Price was nice and hard again, he started to slam his hips down on him, chasing his own pleasure. His hands went from Price's shoulders to his throat, feeling him stiffen before relaxing. The coil in his stomach started to twist more and more and more and more until...

Graves came over Price's chest, giving him a nice pearl necklace.

Price looked a lot less cognizant which meant Graves did his job well.

"You stay the night, and I'll show you what I can do with my tongue when you can get hard again."

Price groaned as he slowly kept rocking up into him. Graves stayed exactly where he was until Price came inside him. "Good boy."

The cock buried inside him twitched.

[carnivorousyandeere]

Dorian with a Darling who does body painting and is determined😏 to make him their newest masterpiece..... although it might be a project best left for Darling's eyes only 🤭

Dorian’s fingers still over his phone at the work of art displayed on its screen. The painting is gorgeous, yes. He assumes the model must be rather attractive as well, but it’s obvious with your level of talent you could make anyone look ethereal. He’s not the least bit interested in the model, the canvas. He has to know more about the person behind the paintbrushes and air brushes, behind the camera. He has to know more about you.

( MDNI, No Age in Bio DNI )

CW: murder, smut, jealousy, praise kink, unprofessional work environment, technically Dorian is Darling’s employer;;; post-sex photography

Info: gn reader, no agab mentioned; switch/dom reader; switch/sub yandere

Dorian invited you to stay in his home to pursue your art more freely, but his bitterness at you bringing home “random tramps” to paint wears away at his nerves. He certainly doesn’t feel himself to be a prime candidate for artistic inspiration or photographs, but he can’t stand you spending so much time with other people. The curse of your line of work is that need for a living canvas; a need he cannot deny you, or else your art will enchant no longer.

He kills your models when you’re through with them. If you ever question why none return your calls to work with you again, you don’t mention it to him. You don’t talk much to him at all. It’s both comforting and frustrating. He wants to hear your thoughts, but he never knows what to say in response.

Imagine his surprise upon learning you want him to be your canvas— that you were even feeling a bit shy about asking him to sit for you.

“You’ve already done so much, I don’t want to trouble you more…”

“Nonsense! If anything—” Dorian seems to realize his tone is too passionate, too loud, and coughs self-consciously into his sleeve before continuing more quietly— “if anything, it would be an honor.”

~~~

Dorian is mostly bare, his last vestige of modesty a blanket covering his privates. He tries so hard not to squirm under your gaze as you evaluate the planes and curves of his body. He has to fight for that stillness even harder at the cold touch of paint on his skin, knowing that it’s you who’s adorning him like this, making him into art. Your art.

If you notice him trembling and breathing a little shallowly as cover his face, then arms, then chest in a base layer to protect his skin followed by swathes of deep blue paint, mercifully you don’t say so.

Dorian is beginning to relax, patting himself on the back for being so normal when he feels a swipe of primer across his hip and jolts away with a gasp, eyes shooting open.

You jolt back too, drawing your hands back to yourself, apologizing profusely.

Dorian swallows down the lump in his throat, willing his heart to stop sending so much damn blood down south. His ears are ringing. He clears his throat again, avoiding your eye. “I should be the one apologizing… you are only doing what we agreed to…”

He coughs again, hiding himself from you as best he can. “I-I’m afraid it’s just been… rather a long time since somebody has touched me… there…”

Oh. Here you were, so afraid to paint your handsome benefactor, and he was even more nervous than you!

Dorian cringes away at your laugh, beautiful though it is. He relaxes when you take his hand in yours, kissing the back of his knuckles.

“It’s okay to feel that way. It happens surprisingly often.”

Dorian frowns at the thought of other people in his spot. Did you hold their hands too? Kiss their skin, smudge the paint drying there? Dorian turns his head to kiss your hand in turn, watching the gentle laughter dry in your throat at his heated look. “And what do you usually do when that happens?”

“I…” you swallow harshly, looking away. “I usually leave the room so the model can compose themself…”

Dorian hums, kissing up your wrist and nipping at the skin when you answer. “And what if I don’t want you to leave? What if… I want you to stay?”

Your head spins with sudden heat as Dorian pulls you into a kiss, smearing blue paint all over your lips and nose. You’re out of breath long before he lets you go, sucking down air greedily and giggling a little at the absurdity of it all. Dorian pulls you even closer, guiding your hand to his cock.

You gently pull him out from under the blanket. He’s dripping already. You smear pre-cum with your thumb, licking your lips as Dorian shudders and tilts forward to rest his forehead against yours. His eyelids flutter with every stroke, soft whispers of your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

He’s beautiful like this, and you tell him so. Dorian whines. His gasps of your name only grow louder, his cock twitching harder as you continue to praise him— no matter how much he shakes his head in denial of your sweet words.

He cums hard, white splattering across his painted stomach. You coax him to lay back in a more comfortable position, petting his hair and reassuring him he did a good job for you, before taking out your camera and snapping some pictures to start a… private collection.

[sgkophie]

Hidden Love  - Charles Leclerc One Shot/Request

Read Part 2 Here!

Pairing: Reader x Charles Leclerc

Warnings: smut, language, a Charles quickie cause ya girl's fingers started to fall off by word 7,000...

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Classic friends with lovers with our soft boy Charles with some smut at the end <3

Word Count: ~7500 words (clearly one shots are not my specialty... I get way too connected to my characters!)

AN: Sorry this took so long anon! I had to prioritize Man's World and work kicked my butt last week but hope you enjoy this and thanks for requesting!!

********

I consider myself to be incredibly lucky to call Pierre my brother; while I knew the world looks at him like a playboy, to me he is the silly, loving and kind brother who always had sage, if not very unsolicited, advice. Growing up as kids we rarely fought. Being so close in age – only 18 months apart – we were bound at the hip practically since birth. Pierre probably knew me almost as much as I knew myself – which is why he was 100% accurate when he confronted me with my feelings for his best friend and Ferrari driver, Charles Leclerc. 

“Good morning, Pierre,” I hollered as I walked into our Monaco apartment; Pierre had decided he wanted to spend a little more time in Monaco this year. The newest art gallery I was working for was based in Monaco, and with so many of the other drivers living in Monaco, Pierre had asked if I wanted to share an apartment for this race season. I hadn’t lived with my brother in over 5 years, so I was incredibly excited to get the opportunity to share an apartment with my best friend. I figured eventually we would both settle down with someone, so this was likely our last chance as brother and sister to have some quality family time just the two of us. Plus, things with my boyfriend Gerardo had been progressing. While we had only dated for 4 months, I felt like things were starting to get more serious. 

“Good morning, (Y/N),” Pierre called back. As I walked into the kitchen, I smelled the sweet, sweet aroma of coffee beans – freshly ground – and bacon with toast. I sat down at the marbled kitchen island and grabbed a cup of coffee that Pierre had already poured for me – black coffee with just a touch of creamer. Pierre and I had both become coffee snobs a few years ago after a lovely trip to Peru; there’s something about black coffee that just screams morning to me. 

“Thanks for this. So, what’s the plan for tonight? Your text said you wanted to cook some dinner?” I asked casually, trying to pry out of him what exactly he wanted. We typically ate dinner together, so I it was odd that he had directly asked if I was free tonight and if I wanted to have dinner with him. 

“Charles is coming over, he’s back from Italy a day early, and thought it would be nice to have dinner before we all head to Austria.” 

“Oh how lovely! Haven’t seen Charles in what feels like an age. Yes, that would be great. I’ll tell Gerardo, I’d love for him to meet Gerardo before he comes to Austria with us.” I clapped my hands and grabbed my phone, crafting a text to Gerardo with the hope that he could make some time to come. Recently he had been spending a lot of time with ‘the boys’, so I felt like we hadn’t seen each other in forever. 

As I pulled out my phone, I could feel Pierre grimace, wanting to clearly say something. “Why can’t it just be the three of us?” he asked calmly, but I could see the look of panic in his eyes when I lifted mine to meet his deep blue ones. 

“Why do you not like Gerardo?” I responded, slowing standing up from my chair at the kitchen counter. I knew Pierre didn’t like Gerardo; he’d only invited him to Austria because I had begged him to. Pierre had always had this silly thought in his head that Charles and I should be together. I typically shrugged him off when he said things like that. The reality was: Why on earth would Charles want to date me? He had access to beautiful models all throughout Europe. Something I reminded Pierre often – considering he always had a model on his arm, no matter the event. 

Pierre was convinced Gerardo was just using me to get free F1 tickets and to get into exclusive events, a comment I thought was incredibly rude. Gerardo couldn’t just like me for me? Pierre said this about a lot of my boyfriends, something I often tried to ignore, but it was starting to truly irk me. I was a catch – and not because my brother was a Formula 1 driver. I worked at one of the most exclusive art galleries in Monaco; I had my own set of events to attend. I didn’t need him to get into a VIP club – although it was arguably easier. 

“(Y/N), we’ve discussed this… it’s not that I don’t like the guy, it’s that I don’t think he’s right for you,” he responded coolly, clearly sending my agitation and frustration. 

“Is it because you still have this secret plan to get me and Charles together? I know he recently broke up with his last model girlfriend. This better not be one of those games you like to play.” I put an emphasis on model, just to reinstate the reason why Charles and I would never be together. 

Pierre just signed. “No plan, no plan,” he said with acceptance. “I just wanted some old friends to hang out together. If it’s important for you to invite Gerardo, then please invite him; there will be plenty of food.” 

I nodded and texted Gerardo, who to my surprise, said he would love to join the three of us for dinner this evening. 

“Excellent – it’s settled then,” I responded with a grin, getting up from the table with my coffee cup. I hadn’t seen Charles in forever and I was excited to finally the future WDC holder of 2022. Charles had such a fun air about him – he was incredibly charming, funny, but most of all, compassionate. There had been so many late night phone calls throughout the year where Charles would sit endlessly on the phone, listening to my career plans. He’d ask me about my days in classes when I was at Uni and when I got my first job at a gallery, Charles was the first one to send me a beautiful bouquet of daisies, my favorite flower, as a congratulations. Unlike Pierre, he had always seemed supportive of my boyfriends – always made them feel welcome. 

******

Charles arrived at half 6, 30 minutes before Pierre had told me Charles was going to arrive. I suspected he had told Charles 6:15, in the hopes that he would come earlier than Gerardo – no doubt part of Pierre’s plan for us to have some alone time without my current boyfriend. Charles was notoriously always late to events – his mother said she knew he’d just be one of those people who were always late, given that he was almost a week late to his expected date of birth. 

I opened the door and before I knew it, I was engulfed in the hug of the century. “Charles, it’s so lovely to see you!” I yelled, giving him a second and then a third hug. He chuckled and said the same. As I shuffled him into the living, I noticed a small bouquet of flowers in his bag. He saw me looking and smiled, pulling them out of his bag and handing them to me. 

“I saw these at a local market I was at this morning, thought you might like them,” he said with the biggest smile. Truth be told, my heart melted at that moment. I nodded, a little shyly, and took them from him, giving him yet another hug. 

“Thanks Charles, these are just lovely. You are too kind! How a woman hasn’t snatched you up yet, I will never know.” 

He beamed at me, ever the gentlemen this Monegasque was. “I am looking forward to Austria this weekend. You coming on the jet with us?” 

“Yes, Gerardo and I will be flying with Pierre – he’s never been to Austria, so I am excited to go a day earlier and show him around.” 

I wasn’t sure what emotion had flashed across Charles’ face, but it almost looked like disappointment. As soon as it had arrived on his face, it was gone and his face resumed the usual smile with those precious dimples. I decided to think nothing of it. I knew both Charles and Pierre were under a ton of stress, especially Charles who was so close to winning the championship. 

“Who is Gerardo?” he asked quietly, still smiling directly at me. The smile was looking a little forced, but I let it slide. 

“(Y/N)’s new boyfriend,” Pierre responded quickly. “He’s coming with us to Austria,” he added a bit too bluntly. 

“… and we’re excited about it,” I snapped back, looking directly at Pierre. “And we’re going to be nice to him, right?” 

Pierre rolled his eyes but nodded, looking back at Charles. 

“Well, that’s exciting,” Charles replied, clapping his hands together; his smile was starting to look genuine. “I’ll be sure to give him a tour of the Ferrari garage if you’d like. We have some time on Thursday.” 

“That would be great,” I explained. “More than Pierre has offered – he’s apparently too busy to give us a tour around the garage.” I rolled my eyes, but playfully batted at my brother’s shoulder. 

“You know I would if I could, but we’ve got some big red bull sponsorship events this week,” Pierre gave me a loving shove. I suspected he was over dramatizing his schedule, but I nodded in agreement. No doubt about it, it was a huge event for both Red Bull teams and Pierre was expected to participate. 

After another 10 minutes of chit chat, Gerardo knocked at the door. Before I could get to the door, Pierre had beaten me to it. “Gerardo, welcome to our home,” he said. I didn’t like the emphasis on our home, but chalked it up to Pierre just being his usual protective big brother self. He and Gerardo had met a couple other times before, but Gerardo was still very new in Pierre’s eyes. 

Charles quickly got up to shake Gerardo’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” Charles said. “I’m an old family friend.” 

“Oh, I know who you are,” Gerardo said with what could only be described as the most cringeworthy grin. “Charles Leclerc – great to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so much about you. Looking forward to seeing Max beat you at the Red Bull ring this weekend,” he joked. Gerardo laughed after his comment, as if he had made a hilarious joke, and then winked at Charles. Charles, ever the gentlemen, let out an awkward, light chuckle. A little rude to someone who had just offered to show us around the Ferrari garage, but I hoped that Charles wasn’t too offended. 

The rest of dinner went by fairly smoothly. Gerardo let out a few more awkward comments towards Charles, but overall he was a pleasant conversationalist with the group. I reckoned that it was probably hard to come into a group of well established friends and insert yourself into the conversation, so I thought he did great. As dinner started to whine down, Gerardo excused himself from the group. He apparently had to go back for Austria tomorrow. I was confused, because he told me over the weekend that he was so excited he had already packed, but I nodded and gave him a hug and kiss good-bye. 

He glanced back at both my brother and Charles and then gave me a huge kiss, wrapping both of his arms around my waist and lifting me off of the floor. “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow, beautiful,” he cooed. I nodded, a little lightheaded from the unexpected hug. I quickly closed the door, only to turn around to see both Charles and Pierre stating at me, a look of disbelief on Pierre’s face. 

“Well, now the real party can begin,” Pierre announced as he walked over to the wine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of champagne. I frowned at him for his sassy comment about Gerardo leaving, but resumed my place on the couch, putting out my glass for a refill. 

“So, (Y/N), how long have you and Gerardo been dating?” Charles asked me. 

“A few months now – almost 4. I feel like in the last month it’s started to get more serious, so I am excited to bring him to the paddock.” Unbeknownst to me, Pierre was standing behind me, rolling his eyes at Charles and gesturing for him to change the subject. Charles ignored him and pressed further. 

“That’s great, I’m happy for you. He seems so familiar, like I’ve met him before. Just can’t place where.” 

“Well he’s lived in Monaco all his life, so you’ve probably seen him out at a club or something.“ I responded casually. Truthfully, I had no idea where they would have met, but they were both quite active in the night life of Monaco so it was entirely possible that they had some mutual friends. 

“Well he seems like a nice guy, and as long as he makes you happy, then I am happy for you,” Charles said lightly. There was a tint of sadness in his voice, but before I could address it Pierre but in. 

“As happy as a girlfriend can be when she’s dating a guy who can’t make her come during sex,” he remarked to Charles. 

“PIERRE!” I shrieked, throwing the couch cushion at him. “I told you that in confidence! You can’t go around saying that to people.” I was mortified. When I was drunk one night about a month ago I had let that horrifying comment slip to Pierre, who since then, definitely took a strong dislike to Gerardo. He was a believer that a man’s number one focus in bed should be on his girlfriend, something he told me over and over. 

I held my hand up, “I am NOT discussing this with my brother and his best friend. Nope. Absolutely not.” 

I turned to Charles and noticed his eyes flicker up at me, his face a bit pink – likely from the cringeworthy announcement my brother had just made to the group. I mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’. It was clear Pierre was starting to get quite drunk. 

“Well, I think we should call it a night,” I said pointedly to Pierre. “YOU have to be up early tomorrow and you cannot be hungover in Austria. Something about all of those sponsorship meetings… if I remember correctly,” I said with a grin, reminding him of the reason why he couldn’t give me and Gerardo that garage tour. 

Charles nodded and started walking towards the door. As we were standing at the door, he leaned in closely, and whispered ever so gently, “Pierre is right, you know.” I raised an eye brow at him. His face was so close to my ear, I could feel his breath on my neck. “A boyfriend’s priority shouldn’t just be ‘how can I make my girlfriend come, but how many times I can make my girlfriend come.’” Before I could even respond to that comment, Charles winked at me and shut the door. 

I stood there, slightly baffled. Charles had always been so sweet and well-mannered – I had never seen this side of him before. I retreated back to the living room, grabbed the remaining glass of champagne, and downed it. 

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Pierre was right. I did have feelings for Charles – feelings that I had to shove deep down because I knew that if I let them out, they’d explode inside of me, and I would end up being incredibly disappointed. I let that little comment from Charles slide, and went to sleep, trying to dream of my boyfriend making me come, and not Charles Leclerc. 

***** 

Of course the next morning Pierre woke up with a brutal hangover. I told him not to drink too much, but he was not one to listen to me, or anyone, – especially if champagne was involved. Gerardo met us at the airport. He also looked a little worse for wear, which I thought was odd considering he went straight home last night and had only drunk a couple glasses of wine. He gave me some excuse about having allergies, and I just nodded back at, doing my best to not roll my eyes. I didn’t think they looked like allergies, but I also wasn’t in the mood to get into a fight. This was going to be a good weekend, I could feel it in my bones. 

That Wednesday went delightfully – Gerardo and I spent the day touring Austria and enjoying the lovely weather. Thursday Charles kept his promise and offered to give Gerardo and I a tour of the Ferrari garage, which was just lovely. I always thought that if Charles wasn’t a formula 1 driver, he would have made a great public speaker. He always had that beautiful smile on his face and his answers to everything were so diplomatic. About half-way thru the tour I got a call from Pierre, asking me to meet me in his drivers room- he had lost something, as usual. I apologized and said that Gerardo and I would have to go, but Charles offered to continue giving Gerardo a tour. 

“Go ahead, I’m happy to continue the tour. I mean you’ve already seen all this a bunch of times,” he said with that million dollar smile. I nodded and kissed Gerardo on the check, apologizing again. 

“Call me when you’re done, I’ll come get you.” Gerardo nodded and I ran off into the direction of the Alpha Tauri garages, cursing Pierre under my breath. 

Charles Leclerc’s POV

As (Y/N) ran off towards the Alpha Tauri garage, my heart sank just a little. I barely got to spend any time with her these days and so I felt like every moment I had with her was precious, even if I had to spend it with her horribly annoying boyfriend. He came across as a nice enough fellow, even if he occasionally insulted me, something I guessed was because he was trying to mark his territory. I understood that on some primal level – (Y/N) Gasly was breathtakingly beautiful. Her laugh could warm up an entire room and her smile could make any person’s walls come down, if they just gave her enough time. 

Timing had never seemed to be on our side. Every time I ended a relationship, and built up the courage to ask her out, she was dating someone. It was this vicious cycle where I could never seem to find the right moment to truly tell her how I feel. And now, almost 7 years after I had originally worked up the courage to ask her out, she was once again in another relationship. 

I turned back to Gerardo who was just smiling at me with that horrendous grin he had – reminded me of that Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. 

“It must be so cool to be a formula 1 driver; surrounded by all those hot models, what a dream,” he said with a smirk and a pat on my back. I was a little taken aback by his comment. 

“Actually, it’s not nearly as glamorous as it sounds. We put a lot of hard work into training and getting the cars ready each race. I find it hard to maintain a constant relationship with a girlfriend,” I said with a sigh. 

“Ahh, come on mate, you don’t have to pretend with me,” Gerardo laughed, “I know that’s the selling point. All the women you want, with none of the commitments attached – a true dream. Don’t have to buy her flowers the night after, if you know what I mean. Georgia is always expecting something!” 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. No, I didn’t know what he meant. Here he was with the girl of my dreams, the one woman I knew I could manage a relationship with while still trying to win the WDC. (Y/N) understood the pressures we drivers were under. When I was at the Ferrari Driving Academy, she was the one person I could call and talk to – day or night. She was the first person I called to tell her I had been signed on as a Ferrari driver, although she didn’t know that. 

I decided to rebuff his comment and and continue on with the tour, hoping he would get the hint.

He didn’t. 

“You know you and I have met a few other times,” he said casually. “We met about a month ago at Club W at the opening night.” 

I nodded. Now I remember where I had met him. Yes, at the opening of the new Club. “Didn’t you have a date there?” I asked casually, trying not to sound too interested. He took the bate – idiot. 

“Oh yeah, hot blonde – Cathy or something. (Y/N) and I weren’t serious then,” he added quickly. 

I nodded, and continued to look forward, looking for a way out of this conversation. I knew that wasn’t true, (Y/N) had told me they’d dated for almost 4 months. If I had a girl like (Y/N) Gasly, I wouldn’t even remotely look in another girls’ direction. Fortunately, before I had to endure any more of Gerardo, (Y/N) had texted that she was on her way back. Within a couple of minutes (Y/N) was walking towards the garage, waving at me. 

I nodded and waved to her as she entered the garage. “Sorry I have to run, but talk to you later!” I called out to her as I walked back into my drivers room. She looked disappointed as I turned away, but after my talk with Gerardo, I couldn’t bare to face her. 

I had a decision to make. Do I tell her about Gerardo’s comments? Maybe he didn’t mean them. Maybe they weren’t that serious a month ago. I highly doubted that, but I couldn’t bare the look on her face as I told her the terrible things that insufferable boyfriend of hers had decided to share with me. I decided to keep it to myself, unless he decided to continue this conversation with me. There was no reason to ruin her happiness by sharing with her some offhanded comments – was there? 

*****

Your POV

I was disappointed that Charles had only waved to me from the garage. I knew that he was incredibly busy and he had done me a favor by showing Gerardo around, but still, he had always make time for me in the past. I gave him a quick wave and then grabbed Gerardo’s hand to drag him back to the Alpha Tauri hospitality center where Pierre had set us up. 

The rest of Thursday and all of qualifying on Friday went smoothly. I loved getting the head sets and listening to Pierre on the radio, it made me really feel apart of the race which I know was important to Pierre. That Friday evening the drivers were all getting together at a local bar to celebrate – not too much as they all had to race the next day, but it was a tradition to at least go out and chat. Pierre invited Gerardo and I – well mostly me – and we out to the club. 

At around 9pm I was beginning to feel exhausted and asked Gerardo to take me home – hoping we could get in some cuddles and chats before the big sprint race tomorrow. We hadn’t spent much time alone together just the two of us, and after Saturday it would be all race prep and then straight to celebrating; we’d have very little time to be alone. 

I suggested to my boyfriend that he take me home, but he rebuffed my comment – clearly annoyed that I had asked. Charles, noticing this, offered to take me home as he also wanted to get some proper sleep before the sprint race. The walk home was very quiet, we barely said a word to each other, but the silence was comforting. Charles and I had a that in common – we could both just enjoy each others company without needing to fill the space with words. As we approached my hotel, I leaned in and gave him a big hug, thanking him for taking me home. As I went to pull back, he pulled me closer, deepening the hug. He put his face in the crook of my neck and sighed. 

“I am so glad you’re here, (Y/N),” he whispered. 

“Me too, Charles. It’s been great to see you – even if you’ve been so busy the last two days.” 

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind with the championship race really heating up. I’m so close to my dream, you know, so close…” he trailed off at the end. I just nodded in response. I knew this was his dream. 

“You deserve this, Charles. Good luck tomorrow – I think you’ll be brilliant in the sprint race. Your car is phenomenal.” Charles didn’t respond to me; he just kept staring at me, as if he had something to say but couldn’t possibly utter out the words. 

“Everything ok?” I asked politely, trying not to prod, but I could see that he had something he wanted to say. 

“You deserve better,” Charles blurted out. I could see the panic in his eyes, as if he hadn’t expected to say that, but couldn’t help himself. 

“What do you mean?” I responded dryly.

“That guy – Gerardo – he’s a dick. He doesn’t treat you like you deserve.” 

“And how would you know what I deserve?” I snapped back. “This coming from a guy who has a new model on his arm every week. What do you know about dating? What do you know about love?” I could feel myself getting angrier. Truth be told, a lot of this anger wasn’t directed at Charles. Pierre and I had discussed this so many times, I was over it. 

“I know enough to know that he doesn’t deserve your love.” I scoffed at his comment. The audacity of this man. 

“Charles, before we both say something we regret, I am going upstairs and to my room to wait for my boyfriend. I don’t know what’s come over you, but I’m not going to stand here and listen to this.” 

Before he could utter another word, I stormed off into the elevator, closing it quickly before he could hop in. I felt bad leaving it like that before his race tomorrow, but I wouldn’t let myself hear that. I couldn’t bare the possibility that Charles was going to lecture me on deserving better, but then not offer himself up as a possibility. I loved him too much for that, and I knew that pain would be more than I could handle. 

**** 

I woke up the next morning and reached out to Gerardo’s side of the bed. Odd, I thought to myself, maybe he’s in the shower or went out to get coffee? I checked my phone and I couldn’t see any missed calls from him. There were a few texts from Charles – pathetic apologizes – I ignored those. Charles could stew for now, I decided. I called Gerardo a few times, but his phone went straight to voicemail. I texted Pierre and asked if he had seen him at the club, but he said he left only 10 minutes after Charles and I did and he hadn’t seen him since. 

I took a shower and decided if Gerardo didn’t get back in the next 30 minutes, then I would call the hotel security to see if maybe he had gone to another room. As I was finishing getting my hair ready for the day, I heard a knock at the door. I opened it to see a very hungover Gerardo, still in last night’s clothes. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” I demanded

“Keep your voice down woman, I’m nursing a headache,” he said as he plopped down on the bed. I just stared at him in complete disbelief, motioning for an answer on where he had been. He looked up at me and rolled his eyes. 

“Oh come off it, a mate was in town last night so I stayed at his. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, love,” he said with such smooth mockery I thought I was going to faint from anger. 

“We have to be at the track in 30 minutes and you aren’t even close to being ready!” I shrieked. I had never been late for ay of Pierre’s races, and there was no way I was going to be start now. 

“Then go without me – I need to sleep.” I just rolled my eyes at his comment. 

“Sleep!? You should have been doing that last night with me when I came home. You promised me we’d go together. We have barely seen each other in the last month.” 

“Stop being so needy, (Y/N). I’ll come out with you later. Who cares about watching your brother anyway? It’s not like he’s going to win.”

No I was livid. You can insult me, but don’t you dare insult Pierre, I thought to myself. “If you can’t make it to today’s qualifying, then don’t be here when I get back.” 

“Jesus, (Y/N), Cathy would never be this needy,” he grumbled. I doubt he was expecting to hear that. Cathy was his ex-girlfriend who, in my opinion, spent way too much time hanging around Gerardo for them to be platonic. I often let it slide, but it irked me to no end. 

“Well Cathy isn’t your girlfriend, I am, in case you forgot,” I declared. 

“I’m sure she’d take the job back if you don’t want it… at least that is what she said in Tuesday,” he sneered. I knew it – I knew he had gone out on Tuesday after dinner with me. 

I was fuming. Fuck this, I thought. Maybe Charles is right. 

“Fine – then why don’t you give Cathy a call. When I get back from this race, I expect you to be gone.” With that, I picked up my bag and headed out the door, making a point to slam it on the way out. As I got downstairs, I saw Pierre was already waiting for me in his car. I hopped into the front seat and smiled. 

“No Gerardo?” He gave me a questioning look. I just shook my head and he sighed. “Then off we go.” 

Practice 2 and the Sprint Race went well for Charles; Pierre not so much. I tried to ignore the fact that I was fuming that Gerardo had not come to the Sprint Race and just focused instead on Pierre, who was incredibly upset about his car. By the time the sprint race was over, I had a text from Gerardo on my phone with just a plane emoji. Well, it was good while it lasted I guess, I sighed to myself. Pierre, even if his horrible funk could tell that I was upset. He guessed immediately what was wrong. 

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but honestly, it’s the best news I’ve heard all day. That guy was an ass, even Daniel Ricciardo didn’t like him, and he likes everyone.” I lightly giggled at his comment. It was true, if Danny Ric didn’t like him – I was likely better off without him.

At the end of the sprint race, as teams were packing up, I wanted to sneak out and talk to Charles, apologize for yesterday and to tell him that he was right – Gerardo was in fact a dick. But as I searched the paddock for him, I couldn’t find him anywhere. I sent him a quick text, apologizing for last night and congratulating him on his race, but he didn’t respond. 

Guess I deserved that. 

**** 

Sunday morning I woke determined to find Charles. We’d never let a fight linger this long, and I wanted to wish him luck before the race. I felt terrible knowing that he was going into the race thinking I was mad at him. I headed straight to the Ferrari garage – I knew he would be there early, he was always one of the first drivers to arrive on race days. 

“Carlos, have you seen Charles?” I asked the Spanish driver. He just smiled at me with that warm smile and nodded. 

“Ahh, so this is the reason Charles bit my head off yesterday,” he said with a cheeky grin. I quirked an eyebrow and looked at him, unsure what to say. “Charles is in his driver’s room – do lover boy a favor and tell him what we both know to be true.” 

I mumbled my thanks and headed towards the room, trying to slightly ignore Carlos’ weird comment and sneaky grin. Carlos was a wonderful friend to Charles, but he was always making comments about Charles and I being together and it was constantly getting on my last nerve. 

I knocked on Charles’ drivers room lightly, in case he was having a nap or was in an important meeting. “I don’t want to be bothered,” he shouted back on the other side of the door.

“Tough, cause I want to bother you,” I yelled back, hoping my joke would lighten the mood just a tad. I could hear Charles’ foot steps pad over to the door. He opened it slightly and looked at me, as if he was trying to determine if I was really there and not a figment of his imagination. 

“(Y/N), why are you here?” 

“I wanted to apologize in person… turns out you were right, and I felt like you deserved an apology. I couldn’t stand the idea of you driving off today mad at me. If something happened… I’d never forgive myself.” It all came out in a tumble. 

Charles just nodded and opened the door wider, motioning for me to come into the room. “Thanks,” he said quietly. His eyes were looking at me so intensely, but his voice was soft and relaxed, as if he was trying to ‘play it cool.’ 

“So does that mean its over between you and Gerardo?” 

“Yes, we broke it off Saturday when he refused to come to the sprint race, and then informed me that he was still seeing his ex-girlfriend. He then decided insulting Pierr-“ 

Before I could finish my sentence, Charles’ lips were on mine and my back was pushed up against the wall of his driver’s room. I could feel one of his hands cup my face while the other went to the small of my back. After a few moments I pushed him back a tad, gasping for air and staring at him. His eyes were wild and full of something that looked like lust. That couldn’t be right. Was my crush, Charles Leclerc, lusting after me? As we stared at each other, both catching our breathes, I went to say something but stopped myself. Truth was, I had no idea what to say at this moment. I was in shock. What did this kiss mean? 

It's as if Charles could see the internal conversation I was having with myself. He once again grabbed my waist and pulled me into him, peppering small kisses on my hips and face.

“I have wanted to do that for no less than 7 years,” he whispered, still putting small kisses on my neck and shoulders. “I am so sorry it took this long.” I just stared at him, unable to utter words back to him. He smiled a bit, clearly sensing my shock and inability to register what was happening. Before I could respond, I heard a knock at the door. 

“Charles, it’s time to hop in the car.” Charles grabbed my hand, brought it up to his mouth and kissed my knuckles, as if I was a princess and he was a knight going off to battle.

“I’d love to continue this discussion after the race, mon amie, if you would like. In the meantime, wish me luck.” I simply nodded at him.

As he was walking down the hallway all I could think to yell back at him was, “Don’t let Pierre beat you!” He laughed and then walked out of his drivers room, leaving me for the first time in a while, completely speechless. As I exited his room, I saw Carlos standing a little ways up the hallway. He waved at me. His body language was calm, but the grin on his face said he knew exactly what had just happened. I rolled my eyes and trotted towards the Alpha Tauri Garage. 

***** 

“And there you have it”, the announcer yelled into the microphone, “Charles Leclerc is back on top with a well deserved race win!” 

The stands full of people were going wild, even though it was the Red Bull ring, Ferrari flags were waving everywhere. As the paddock and track were opened up, I ran towards the podium, spotting first Pierre. I gave me brother a big hug, whispering better luck next time in his ear. He nodded, clearly disappointed at his P15 finish. As Pierre turned to head back to his garage, I searched the crowd frantically for Charles. 

There he was – up by his car, still hugging his team and family. I pushed my way through the crowd and got as close to the front as I could. Fortunately Lorenzo saw me and pulled me forward, dragging me all the way up to where the Leclerc family was congratulating Charles. As I moved to step up next to Lorenzo, I felt someone grab my face. I looked up and there I was, face to face with Charles. Over the last two hours I had contemplated what I wanted to say to Charles, but the moment I saw his face, every thought I had went out the window. 

Charles smiled – that million dollar smile – and kissed me. He kissed me hard and with such gusto I felt like the wind was being knocked out of me –honestly, it was a little too passionate for us being in the middle of the pit lane. I grabbed onto his chest and he pulled me closer. 

“I love you (Y/N) Gasly,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s always been you. Tell me you feel the same.” 

“There’s never been anyone else that’s come close,” I whispered back. 

Charles put our foreheads together and kissed my cheek one last time before his team dragged him off to the cool down room. At that moment I was acutely aware that everyone around me, including his family, had now started staring at me. Lorenzo smiled and gave me a big hug. “It’s about time,” he yelled into my ear. 

I watched the podium celebration; I had never been more proud, or happier for him. Once the podium celebration ended, Lorenzo snuck me back to Charles’ driver room. 

I knocked on the door and it quickly opened. Charles pulled me inside and shut the door, pushing me back up against the wall of his drivers room. Unlike the last time, Charles’ hands were frantically all over me – rubbing up and down my body. He was like a man starved, trying to memorize every curve of my body. I felt like I was on fire, ever nerve ending was burning like a million suns. 

Charles picked me up and moved me to the red sofa in the corner of his room. He gently placed me down, before continuing to kiss me with such ferocity and passion – passion that I had never experienced before. I pushed him back just a bit. 

“Need some air,” I chuckled, staring straight into his beautiful green-hazel eyes. He smiled at me and then continued to kiss that sweet spot on my neck that he had just discovered, pulling a moan out of me in the process. 

“Oh, my love, how I have dreamed of hearing those sounds come out of your lips.” He moved his lips back to mine and kissed me deeply, pushing his tongue gently into my lips. His hands slowly went up my shirt, taking their time going up my body before resting on my boobs, squeezing lightly. I let out a small moan – it felt amazing to have Charles touch me like this. I had dreamed about this; all those times I pulled out my vibrator in the dead of night, pretending it was Charles using it on me, instead of myself.

“Oh Charles,” I sighed as he leaned closer into me, his thighs pressed between my legs. Soon his fingers were moving back down to the waist band of my pants. He slowly unbuttoned my pants and looked at me, quietly asking for permission to move further. I nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly, and he smirked, helping me lift my hips as he pulled my pants and underwear off of me. He picked up my red thong and smirked at me. I could tell he felt victorious, and as much as I wanted to snark back and deny his cocky face this victory, I couldn’t manage to get a word out before he said, “Let me show you what it means to put a woman’s pleasure first.”

And show me he did. 

Charles spread my legs and held them in place before diving in, licking gentle kitten licks up and down my core. Amazing could not begin to describe how it felt to have Charles between my legs. Slowly he took one finger and pushed it inside me. I was already soaking wet, so his index finger went in with ease. He pumped his finger in and out, all while licking and kissing at my clit. The man clearly had experience, that much was clear. Within an embarrassing amount of time, I could feel my orgasm approaching. 

“Charles, I .. uh…” was all I could get out. My moans were getting louder, and I put my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle my sounds. Charles quickly grabbed my arm, yanking it down. 

“Absolutely not, my love, I want to hear the sounds of my victory.” He pushed a second and then a third finger in, doubling down on the pressure on my clit. Before I knew it, I could feel myself come undone underneath him. I let out a loud scream of his name, and then tried to catch my breath as I came down from my high. 

“You taste so good, princess, just like I knew you would.” 

I felt like the nickname should not have affected me like it did, but with his beautiful smile looking at me, I felt like the most special girl in the world. I tried to sit up and grab his belt to undo it, but Charles had beaten me to it. Already unbuckling his pants, Charles pushed them down and took off his shirt, getting back ontop of me. I saw him grab a condom from his side table. He slid the condom on and then stared at me, his pupils were blown and I could see the lust on his face.

Charles Leclerc… all mine, I thought to myself.

He grabbed both my hands and put them above my head, kissing my neck tenderly. He inched in closer and soon I could feel him sinking into me. Even with the initial slight burning sensation, he felt incredible inside me. Charles stilled for a moment, looking deep into my eyes, clearly waiting for me to nod that I was okay before proceeding. After about a minute I nodded shyly, giving his plump lips a small peck before gasping as he pushed into me. 

“Oh, mon amie, you feel incredible,” he sighed into my neck, pumping in and out slowly, clearly enjoying how much he was teasing me. 

“Oh Charles, please.. need more…” I moaned into him, frantically trying to push him forward to get more friction. He smirked at me, but he picked up his pace. Before I could fully register what was happening, I could feel myself heading towards my second orgasm. Charles slid his hand down to my clit and started to stroke gently while pounding into me, hitting the right spot each time. 

“I’m-I’m gonna…” was all I could get out before I screamed into his chest, gasping for air as what felt like an electrifying orgasm tore through me. Charles soon followed, his movements turning more into inconsistent ruts as he whispered my name into my ear and told me what a good girl I was. 

We both laid there for a moment, catching our breaths. After a few minutes, Charles got up and threw the condom away in the bathroom before coming back over to me, rubbing a hot wash cloth between my thighs. When he was done, he moved me on the sofa and put me on top of him, my head resting on his chest, a blanket now over us. 

I heard a quick ding come from my cell phone and I reached over for it, worried that Pierre was looking for me. I opened my phone to a text that simply read: “Told you so.” 

I rolled my eyes, smiling slightly. I guess Pierre’s plan had worked after all. 

[v3nusxsky]

hi! i'm deeply in love with everything you write and reading your fics is like a daily ritual for me.

i'd like to request a larissa/reader fic, but the idea is a bit hard, so it's absolutely fine if you don't want to write it!

r is an art teacher at nevermore and she's in love with larissa. but the thing is that r is bipolar and her mood can change almost unpredictably. larissa invites her for a glass of wine and they end up spilling their feelings for each other (some smut would be nice). but the next day r is feeling depressed and starts ignoring larissa for days thinking she's not good enough for her and it was a drunk mistake. larissa finds her, r tells her the truth and larissa tells her that it doesn't change anything and she will be with her no matter what.

idk why i requested this, it's a bit personal ig. sorry for lots of details, feel free to change anything!

My flickering flame 18+H&C

*Authors note~ Bipolar is a super sensitive topic and I've done my research to try my best to handle it in a respectful and informative manner*

Trigger warnings~ Bipolar r mommy kink oral fixation for r thigh riding face riding fingering and oral sex mentions of sh

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Teaching at Nevermore was something you'd always wanted to do, your ability made your desire for art easy. Your ability meant anything you created would provoke visions of sorts. You were often transported into the work and especially if you were creating something based off present facts or feelings. Being at Nevermore and teaching also introduced you to the one and only Larissa Weems and you were immediately taken with her, the blonde was alluring and you both struck up a great friendship.

It wasn't uncommon for Larissa to invite you for a glass of wine, in fact it also became a weekly ritual. It was something you came to love but you'd had to cancel it every so often due to your bipolar. Your depressive episodes were horrible and made even just breathing difficult but your Mania episodes were equally exhausting and even exhibiting dangerous and risky behaviour. You remember the first time you experienced a Mania episode and you completely blew through all of your savings on random items that you'd never normally buy. You remember telling the doctor, that you were seeing Lucifer and telling you what you should be doing.

You were feeling good today and the excitement of wine with your crush was really overwhelming for you. But you found yourself sat on her sofa with a glass of red wine dangling from your fingers as you drunk in her beauty. "Darling, you're staring" Larissa murmured watching the blush creep over your cheeks. "You're just so beautiful" you mumbled before gasping in shock, your didn't mean to say that out loud.

"So are you darling, I must confess I rather like you" Larissa purred slipping closer to you, close enough your foreheads met. "Like me?" You mumbled confused. "Very much so and I'd very much like to kiss you love." Before you even verbally replied her lips were attached to yours, they felt softer than you ever imagined and the taste that was so perfectly her was invading your senses.

You both pulled back breathless wearing matching grins, "god I want you" you mumbled before tugging the blonde back to your lips, more passion seeping into this kiss. "Ris? Please" you whimpered after she sunk her teeth into your bottom lip. "Mommys gonna take such good care of you baby, you want this yes?" She murmured smothering your neck in kisses as you mewled, "oh god please never wanted anything more."

It was one night of pure passion, love radiating £!0through you both as you brought one another over the edge time and time again. Larissa riding your thigh, coating it in her slick heat, your mouth securely attached to her breasts as you nipped, sucked and licked at her point rose buds. You riding Larissa's face and suckling on your own fingers to prepare them for her needy cunt. You even somehow managed to get off by the woman's tongue alone, something you'd never done before,  her long slender fingers buried deep into your core as you begged for more, harder and faster. You just needed her. You feel asleep in the woman's arm's sucking on her fingers, moaning at the taste of yourself, just happy to sit in your bubble full of bliss.

You left before Larissa woke up the next morning, the blonde was confused and hurt, she really thought that would be the start of something beautiful but you just disappeared. You stopped teaching your lessons, the only contact you and Larissa had was you informing her of your need of a substitute teacher every morning. All sorts began to race around her mind, maybe you regretted that night, maybe you were embarrassed and didn't want anyone to know, and perhaps you just realised she didn't live up to your expectations.

Meanwhile, you were stuck in your room, no energy to do anything. Negative thoughts swirling around your brain, you'd not eaten or showered since that night and you were lucky if you managed to grab 3 hours of sleep a night. The guilt over leaving without saying anything and the feeling of emptiness and guilt knowing you hurt Larissa. Truly it was all too much and you'd convinced yourself you were better off dead, after all what purpose did you serve now? Your old coping mechanisms are back too.

No one had seen you in days, Larissa had a duty of care as your boss to check on you. So she did, anxious butterflies taking residence in her stomach. But the sight she saw caused her heart to drop, you were curled up in bed, tears flowing over the dried tracks they'd ran before your arms legs and stomach littered in scars and new cuts. You appeared to be asleep as you whimpered her name, your sobs starting to make the words sound choked. The complete opposite of what Larissa had imagined.

Hesitantly, she sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed soothing circles into your back in hope of rousing you awake safely. "Oh darling, I'm here I don't know what's wrong but I'm here" she murmured pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. "Rissa?" You mumbled sleepily before realising the situation and scrambling away from the woman, "no no no she's not meant to be here, you said no luci!" You mumbled to what you thought was lucifer but was actually the wardrobe. "That's the whole reason why I did this" you exclaimed tugging at your abused arms, "I'm not insane! Im not crazy! I'm normal! You're real  I know you are."

"Oh darling, can you focus on me for a second? Just ignore luci for a second. Follow my voice" Larissa whispered to you and you seemed to manage that for a second, rapidly blinking as you faced the woman. "It's happening again" you whimpered before breaking down and throwing yourself into the principals arms, "just a freak with bipolar, you only slept with me because you pity me" you sobbed and suddenly everything made sense to the blonde. "I slept with you because I love you" Larissa murmured into your ear. "Luci says it's lies" you cried and Larissa hushed you, rocking you soothingly.

"Have you taken your medication darling?" You nodded and informed her it wasn't working. So together she helped you phone your doctor and ask for some advice on how to help you now. He informed the blonde as long as she was safe and not posing a risk that she could stay home and have her appointment first thing in the morning to talk about her medication. So that night Larissa slept next to you, In your bed just reassuring you and keeping you safe. She loves you so that means this part of you too, no matter what happens she'll be here for as long as you want her.

Word count ~ 1361

[beanlot]

okay hear me out- cowboy!ellie x fem!reader having *cough* raunchy sex uhm i just. i needed to share these art (not by me btw!) to u aka my all time fav au! writer and yes u can do whatever u want with that prompt ;) i'm just sharing cuz i don't wanna be alone on this 🤭

rdr!ellie?

if red dead was a lesbian porn game, it would have its perks - discrete and secretive sex, if you’re into that. but i’m gonna try and maintain some realism and sadly declare that it’s the 1890s and homophobia is lividly prevalent, hence said discrete and secretive sex. and with ellie’s.. not so ladylike shenanigans, she’s gonna raise a few eyebrows.

you’ll meet on a tuesday night shift at the bar, and at first, it’ll be just another evening frothing root beer and artificial laughter to camouflage snide remarks on why you aren’t married yet. ellie blends with the maelstrom, you won’t notice her until she’s directly infront of you, jagged scars that slice through her eyebrow.

just some whiskey.

and she’s gonna be pretty reserved, tactical with her eyes when she clocks what a god damn showpiece you are. there’s some moments where ellie maintains her jagged character, dry and insensitive - but there’s some moments, like these, where maintaining that character leaves her stomach curdling.

so she’ll pay extra than what’s needed, sliding over two quarters.

oh, it’s only one o-

i know. one for the whiskey and one for you.

and maybe it’s not essentially unorthodox for you to get tipped, but being tipped by a woman? what was usually plain sailing and rather satisfactory as sliding an extra coin into your palm becomes dithering, a dilemma of whether or not to accept - which solves itself when she walks off without a thank you.

you’re wondering where does the raunchy sex start; it kinda starts when you realise she isn’t just some hallucinogenic succubus bandit waiting to claw at you when you’re most vulnerable, although rationally, that’s what it’s gonna fucking feel like. she’ll be sat down, creased maps against the oak and eyes that should be thinking logically.. but just can’t resist the temptations of looking at you, but in particular, your left hand.

it kinda starts when you realise she’s checking if you’re married.

to abbreviate an extensive romance story,

you’ll subtly invite her in during a snowstorm. and let me just say that this ellie has a thing for thigh-riding, the kind where you’ll be kissing at eachother’s lips as you sit on her lap, losing rhythm because her salacious fingers are guiding your hips back and forth into her. but in terms of vulgarity, i don’t think this ellie would be super experimental just yet; she wants to appreciate you for the fine woman you are, and if that means warming up to the burliness of her thigh against your clit gets that message across, then so be it.

but despite that, this ellie wouldn’t particularly be so vanilla either - she’s still a little bit of a lovemaker, it’s just that this is one of the au’s where i could see her being more dominant presenting. fingers not so timid to part your legs against her thigh, gliding so silkily through your slit, a tone of velvet that whispers what a beauty you are against your cheek. her firewood scent whisking with the kerosine of your bedside lantern as she’ll undress you bare.. and sorta just, lay back and enjoy the show.

gorgeous girl, letting me see you like this.

that’s it, very pretty.

you’ll go to slide the beige suspenders off her shoulders, and you want to do more - but shit’s getting super sensitive as you rock against her waist, your hands quivering against her breasts. she’ll whisper that she knows, her fingers doing the dirty work that you’d seemingly been anticipating for too long; manipulating the fabric so teasingly that your thighs can’t help but start to tremble - clit scorching with agonising vim when you see her abdomen, pearly scars faintly residing against the muscle.

does this excite you?

another undone.

you won’t be able to answer, the sweltering so damn near that it paralyses your body, only instinctive thrusts against her skin that leave you pathetic and nodding breathlessly.

and then another undone.

the precise line of her breasts only slightly visible - she knows you’re close by how impulsively you grind against her, with dilated pupils dazed and so gravely out of character.

but the night’s just starting.

[bellafragolina]

I would love some Clavell, Hassel, Brassius, and Larry pining hcs if you could! The blorbos,,

Oh I so could hell yeah

🍓🍓🍓

Clavell:

He thinks he's very subtle, but it's quite obvious in all actuality. Clavell is a fool for you, doing his best to "casually" insert himself into your sphere for the chance to talk with you. He loves having you to himself, talking together as friends instead of coworkers (should you be a fellow teacher), so he tries to arrange such a thing as often as he can. He'll ask favors or assign work to the other teachers until it's just you and him, and then he'll invite you to lunch. Way to make it not obvious, Clav

At home, he daydreams endlessly. He doesn't mean to, but in the peaceful quiet of his home, his mind always wanders to you. He imagines little scenarios throughout the night, starting with casual lunches together, then getting dinner, or seeing a show together. It builds up, bit by bit, until it comes to head with you kissing him for the first time! After that it's a opened dam, and Clavell is lying in bed, falling asleep to various date ideas that he can take you on. He's smitten

Hassel:

Hassel can manage to keep a fairly good act, hiding his feelings somewhat well, due to the fact he is already a kind and sweet person. He complimented you before, and now you're better friends, that's why he's doing it more often. He sometimes cries if you reveal struggles of your past or present, but he does that with all his friends. What you don't know is that Hassel does all of this even when you're not around, alerting everyone to how deep he's fallen for you

His sketchbook has pages upon pages of you. They're merely sketches, but they're done with so much care. They range from realistic to simplistic, all recognizable as you, however. The more simplistic drawings even have him there too, holding your hand, kissing you, making you swoon. Hassel guards this book with his life, and only Brassius has seen the inside of it, which he teases Hassel about often

Brassius:

Brassius worships the ground you walk on, so it's a little hard NOT to notice his affections. He's calm, but dramatic in the way he waxes poetry about how much he adores you. In a way, you've changed his life, bringing new light and inspiration, and he can't thank you enough. He's another that has a sketchbook full of you, but they're not just sketches, but design plans for sculptures that show off your beauty.

Brassius might, in secret, create such a sculpture. It's smaller than he would like, but he needed to make something in the middle of a sleepless night. His body craves you, your company and light, so he tries to channel it into art. He creates a sculpture of you standing like a goddess, glowing like the sun as Sunflora cling to you and bask in your presence. He hides it from you, until he can be assure of your returned affections. Only then does he sheepishly reveal what he's created

Larry:

Larry is the most subtle in his affections. It's hard to tell he's in love, but if you look close, you can see. His coworkers for sure can see the soft flush that lights his cheeks whenever you're around. His eyes never leave you when you talk to him, looking brighter than they have all week, though his face doesn't change. He listens carefully to you, and always invites you to spend lunch with him if you're free. He always buys your meals as well, having them put on his tab.

Larry doesn't daydream about you, per se, but he does make plans in his head. He thinks about what he would need to do when taking you on a date, reservations to make and picking a time when the weather is hopefully nice. He imagines you living together, and debates to himself the pros and cons of either of your apartments, versus just buying a house. What would a house need? Insurance, of course, and furniture. He'll need to understand your tastes more, and look at what you have that could be conceivably kept from your place and his. . .

🍓🍓🍓

sighhhhh soft men <3

i think pining might be my favorite thing. is it a trope? it's my favorite if so

~Renee

[oonajaeadira]

I'm sorry you're having a rough time. Did I see you mention tech week? I've never done more than amateur theater but there is definitely a unique creeping dread that comes with tech week. It'll come together. Shows nearly always do. Anyway, on to some Pedros.

Here is a sweet man to watch Labyrinth with.

Here is a soft oddball with more money that good sense who just wants to be your body pillow.

And then there's this fella

He'll use those big puppy eyes to convince you to relax, to let him take care of you for a spell. Whatever that entails.

I wish I could hug you via ask box. You've got this.

Oh my gods, what wonderful treats, thank you.

The thought of using Nico for a body pillow did make me stop and stare at the wall for a little bit. Solid. Broad. Warm. Mansplaining amazing travel destinations at me. Absently running his fingers over the same spot over and over until it's a little bit annoying... I bet he smells nice.

And why have I never thought about watching Labyrinth with Javi??? Or any Henson film? Bobbing his head along to the songs and singing half the words wrong... oh, sweet Javi. Lookit how cute he is.

I would gladly let Ezra manipulate me into feeling better. Even if I can see through his tricks, I would just let him have the victory. Everybody wins.

I really needed this kind of care. Thank you.

It is tech week, but it's not so much stressful as it is tedious--there are no breaks and I'm just working and teching and sleeping. I just want my time back to myself. And now that the migraine is fading, the rest of the week should be better. Nothing is truly going to plan, but I am usually pretty good at building shows that embrace imperfection, that highlight it and make it pretty, that invites the audience to celebrate the humanity of the actors, so if anything goes awry, you make it a part of the show. Kind of like a human kintsugi. Foolproof, magical accidents, and even more beautiful for its flaws. Takes the stress out of the alternative which is striving for perfection. Pffft. No art is ever perfect. Perfect art is boring art. Be human and make the audience fall in love with you.

Anyway.

Not long now.

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Um.. can I get jealous Devil and King Dice from the cuphead show?

A/N: Oh, Anon, you are playing a dangerous game here.

Jokes aside, this was a fun little challenge to work with. These versions of KD and the Devil are a stark contrast from their game counterparts, so hopefully I managed to capture their essence here! Also, I had run with the assumption that this had leaned towards a “x Reader” route. If you had wanted something else, feel free to shoot me a message to let me know!

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

Jealous! King Dice hcs:

Jealousy is an emotion King Dice is all too intimate with. 

However, he’s usually on the receiving end of it. Not that he could blame them. He’s a star; beautiful to admire, and just always out of reach. He’s handsome, charismatic, talented, etc. It wasn’t all uncommon for him to have men and women alike fawn over him, much to the ire of their lovers. 

Not that he had cared, of course. To King Dice, it was nothing more than a game; a spectacle for him to sit back and observe, a wry smirk on his face as he struggles to fight back laughter. It’s simultaneously an ego boost and a power trip wrapped in a pretty green package.

The die has been doing it for so long that he had thought himself immune to it; completely confident that he’s the master of that old snake of jealousy.

….So why does watching you smile and laugh with another man in the crowd annoy him to no end? 

Heat flooded Dice’s chest as he watched the man whisper something in your ear. You mutely gasp, playfully slapping at the stranger’s shoulder as you cover your mouth to hide your smile. 

The sight is enough to make him falter. So much so that he had missed his cue, forcing him to cough into a gloved fist; scrambling to maintain a mask of professionalism. However, as he catches that mook turning over to you, eyes gleaming with mirth, King Dice felt his smile grow strained.

King Dice fights to continue on as normal, desperate to ignore the ever growing tightness in his chest. His gaze trails back towards you periodically, the pressure in his chest growing worse as he fights against the urge to mean mug the guy next to you. 

No, he isn’t jealous, Dice silently tells himself.  He just doesn’t like the look of that sleazebag near you. Not to mention that he’s the one hosting this game show– your eyes should be on him. 

It doesn’t take long for King Dice to eventually snap and invite the stranger flirting with you to come roll the dice.

Once he does, the usual banter Dice has with guests becomes barbed. So much so that the audience can’t tell if the die’s remarks are genuine. The moment the poor sap successfully got past the final round, King Dice didn’t hesitate to shove him towards the “prize” room. 

Perhaps it’s childish of him to behave this way. This wasn’t very becoming for a man of his caliber; cool and collected with the dry wit to back it up. 

Not that King Dice had actually cared about that. He’s too drunk off the satisfaction of seeing the hollow shell of that little shit out in the alleyways. 

Whenever he’s confronted about it, however, Dice tries to shrug it off. He’s quick to lay down the charm– desperate to find a way to talk his way out of it. He’d die of embarrassment if you ever found out.

Jealous! Devil Hcs:

Throughout history and countless works of art, the Devil was considered the embodiment of sin. Pride, wrath, greed– you name it. The demon is all too familiar with it. So, naturally, it’s safe to assume envy could be found in his repertoire. 

Much like his right hand man, the Devil, too, thought himself above trivial jealousy. He’s the Devil– king of the underworld and is equipped with all the magic and power anyone could ever want. There’s nothing he could ever get jealous about. 

And if he is– no he isn’t. He’ll deny, deny, deny until he’s blue in the face. Then the demon would go brood in his office, a cigar in hand while he silently glares at the wall; ears occasionally twitching in annoyance. 

Any imps on duty are quick to steer clear and lay low. Even if their hands ache and their eyes burn in their overworked state, they’ll happily endure it for another century if it meant that they could avoid the wrath of the Devil.

Unlike King Dice, however, the demon has zero qualms about lashing out. If his loyal right hand wasn’t safe, then heaven forbid what’d happen if someone dared try to steal you away from him. 

Your lover is a possessive man. If he had it his way, he’d keep you in a gilded cage for him alone. However, as vile he is, the demon isn’t without his reasons. A small yet vocal part of him is afraid. Afraid that you’d one day leave him for someone else.

He is not any easy man to love, neither was he kind. And yet being with you has coaxed out the softer, squishier parts of his soul; baring them for you to embrace or break. The Devil wouldn’t dare say it aloud, but he’d be distraught if he ever lost you.

So when that green-eyed monster called jealousy rears its ugly ahead, the Devil is ready to stake his claim on you. At first, he’ll attempt to be subtle about it. He’ll loom behind you, fur bristled and glaring daggers at the poor soul you’re talking to. Whenever you turn around, the demon would look away– half-heartedly pretending to look disinterested while his tail snakes itself around your leg. 

However, the minute your unwanted suitor grows bolder, all bets are off. Flames engulf the scene as panicked bystanders scatter like mice. You arrive to find your lover pinning the poor sod to the wall, the prongs of his trident dangerously close to their neck. 

By the time you’ve gotten him to calm down, the Devil’s already stolen their soul and is ready to drag you to his office caveman style. Once you’re alone together, the demon becomes clingy and broody as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck; clutching onto you tightly, afraid you would disappear. 

Please cuddle and reassure that you love this prideful man… He genuinely needs it.

┕━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┙

[greycaelum]

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru X Reader

(Kaleidoscope Series: Clouds and Mochi Chapters)

[What would be the best gift to a father for Father's Day?]

[Notes & Warning: fluff, surprises, mentions of pregnancy, Word Count: 2.5k]

"A bit late but Happy Father's Day~ I never realize how much I miss writing these munchkins until I wrote this. I hope you enjoy this one!" —Grey,

Papa

"Today we are going to make a card for Father's Day, everyone brings out your crayons and papers." The teacher cheered.

"Sensei, what's Father's Day?" One of the students asked.

"It's the day we show our love and thank our fathers."

... Don't everyone say I love you and thank you to their Papa every day? But we do that at house every day.

Four years old Saika in preschool obediently took out her crayons and bond paper, a bit confused about Father's Day.

ちちのひ　おめでとう　ぱぱ!

Happy Father's Day Papa! The paper says.

"Ah! That's a wonderful message Saika-chan!" The teacher approached Saika's table, praising the little girl's small note written in messy penmanship.

"Sensei, can I put stickers here?"

"Of course, should Sensei get your stickers?"

Saika shakes her head and reaches for her bag to show several dessert stickers pads.

"I have my own, Mama bought it for me and Kiku-nii."

"Okie-dokie, after you put stickers can you show it to Sensei too?"

"Yes!" Saika cheered and open rip the plastic seal of the stickers.

Papa likes lots of crepes and ice cream and cupcakes... Pancakes... Saika could already see Papa Satoru's happy smile if she litter the card with all their favorite desserts!

Somewhere in the next building, at the middle school, third-grade classroom the teacher also told the children to bring out their art materials.

Who's your superhero and how similar they are to your dad.

Was written on the board.

The class is getting rowdy in showing off their favorite heroes and movies they recently watched.

Kouki just took his pencil and paper out and then started writing.

"Kou-kun, who's your superhero?" Mayumi poked his sleeve and Kouki showed her his paper.

"My Papa," a boyish grin stretched on Kouki's lips, and continued writing.

"Neh, why does Uncle wear a blindfold? Can he see in it?" Mayumi cannot help but linger around and watch Kouki draw a cat with a blindfold on its eyes.

"It's to suppress the powers of his eyes. Isn't it cool?" Twinkles and a smug smile adorned Kouki's lips making Mayumi 'eh' and peek over the picture. She can't help but compare Kou's dad to the cat he saw on TV.

Fluffy white fur and beautiful blue eyes. Too bad, Mayumi never really saw what eye color Kou-kun's Papa has.

"It's rare to see Kou-kun brag. So what can Uncle do?"

"Papa can make a three-layer of souffle pancake disappear in five seconds!"

"... Eh..." Mayumi nodded and awkwardly laugh. "Uhm, that's amazing." I never thought Kou-kun was this easy to be scammed.

"Wanna come over to our house tomorrow Mayumi? Mama said we're going to get some supplies in your shop tomorrow. I can ask Auntie if you can play with me and Saika."

Kouki blinked when he noticed that the girl didn't write anything on her card. Mayumi's Papa went away a long time ago. Mama and Papa wouldn't mind if I invite her.

"Maybe next time, I'm going to my grandparents with Mom."

"Oh, that's great then." Kouki nod and grab his sticker out, a Chupa Chups lollipop on his drawing cat's smiling mouth.

If Papa can turn into a cat, he would be 100 times cuter, Kouki thought and carefully fold the card into his notebook. He bet his Papa will clap a lot when he shows him his art.

"Mama look!" The door burst open followed by your two munchkins running to wrap around your legs excitedly. You set down your glass of orange juice and lean down to kiss them welcome home.

"Teacher told me my stickers are so pretty!" Saika clumsily opened her bag.

"Ma look, I draw Papa if he turns into a hero that can be like a Cat." Kouki showed you his bond paper with a proud smile on his face that you can't bear to hurt his feelings by laughing out loud.

"T-that's Catoru then?" You wheezed, grabbing the counter to control your laughter at how accurate your son has drawn the cat and his father's blindfold. "Catoru will get tonsillitis with that lollipop."

"Mama, Mama, look Sensei told me I write very well and my stickers are so yummy!" Saika tug your apron and showed you her card that is drowning in stickers, it covered a part of her happy father's day message but was still cutely made with all the stickers.

"How about you two go hide those cards before Papa comes home, they're our surprise when Sunday comes." You shooed the two kids to their rooms and told them to get ready for dinner.

"You put Papa's favorite desserts in here huh?" You pat her head making her beam so wide. "But Papa will get diabetes with so much sweet."

"Is that bad?" Saika's eyes widened but you shake your head and shrug.

Just in time, the door opened, and Satoru came in holding the groceries you told him to buy on his way home.

"I'm home, Pretty." Satoru put down the things on the counter and slouched on the stool.

"Welcome home, is it dinner or bath first?" You lowered the heat of the stove and went around the marble top to drop a quick welcome home kiss.

"Rest," he groaned and peek over the sizzling pan.

"Hayashi rice, Saika's request. Spring rolls, that's Kouki. And I made pudding earlier, it's still in the fridge." You run down the menu for tonight's dinner. "Oh and my orange juice too."

"You're drinking too much orange juice these days. How are you feeling by the way? Should we go to the hospital tomorrow?"

He frowned a bit and stood up to get the table ready, seeing that you're about to get done with the cooking.

"I slept it all in today, when I wake up late in the morning I'm more than fine." Earlier you were totally knocked out and cannot come out of the bed with how lightheaded you were. One minuscule move made your whole world turn 360° and it rearrange both your vision and stomach.

"I told you to stop reading in the dark, if it continues we're going to the eye doctor and get you prescriptions," Satoru grumbled.

Eye doctor, you snorted and laugh.

"Papa!"

Satoru was tackled to a piggyback and leg clinging attack by Kouki and Saika.

"Hey brats, how was the day? I got us Yakult and ice cream," Satoru had to drag his feet, where Saika is clinging like a koala, and lean forward to keep Kouki from falling off his back.

The heavy burden of being a Father is when your kids are getting heavier while your backbone is starting to get rustier.

Dinner was delicious and lively with the kids showing off what they did in school. You and Satoru listened and also told them about the things you did today. Dinner always takes a long time and by the end of it, Kouki and Saika are pulling their small step ladder against the sink to wash the dishes.

"If you drop the plate, you're not getting ice cream," Satoru joked and the two of you went to have a half-bath.

"Kiku-nii, we need to show Papa our drawing." Saika carefully held the glass.

"It's on Sunday, we need to sleep tonight and tomorrow before showing it to Papa, Cat." Kouki opened the dishwasher and put in the dishes Saika is holding to be washed.

"But that's too long. Can't we do it now?" She whined and her brother flicked her forehead.

"Not yet," Kouki pushed some buttons and closed the machine as it starts to wash their used dishes.

The two talk in a hushed voice while peeking over the corner of the wall to check if their father is near. Their father always pops out of nowhere spooking the lights out of them, so they've learned their lesson to always be on the lookout.

"Kiku-nii, I want Yakult." The transparent plastic grabbed Saika's attention with the Yakult inside.

"... It's in the fridge." Kouki ushered her but realized his mistake. "Never mind I'll get it." His sister's height barely reach the second door of the fridge where the Yakult was.

"No sleeping with me and Mama," it was time for bed and Satoru narrowly opened the bedroom door with his two kids standing outside. Only half of his face can be seen and it was definitely suspicious in the eyes of his smart munchkins.

"But Papa, you said the weekend is for a sleepover." Saika frowned.

"We're busy," his hand shoo his kids away with urgency. "I'll buy you cake tomorrow, go sleep in your rooms before I ship you off to your grandparents. G'night! Love you!"

And the door shut close.

"Maybe we shouldn't give Papa's cards anymore." Kouki blinked.

"Yeah..." Saika contemplated.

"Satoru, where's my orange juice?!" You shrieked from the kitchen when your pitcher of orange juice was empty and in the dish drainer.

You just came home from buying some balloons and cake for Father's Day and your throat was parched and craving some cold orange juice only to see it drained without a single drop.

"I'll buy you one later—w-woah! Why are you crying?!" Satoru was strutting top naked and almost stumbled when you look at him in accusation and tears.

"Hey Hon, I'll buy you one, I'll be back." In a blink of an eye, your husband was running out of the house.

Saika and Kouki opened the cabinet they were hiding and cheered.

"That was amazing Mama! I'll blow the balloons." Kouki opened your bag.

"Papa didn't even notice you're acting." Saika cheered.

"Who said I was acting?" You cried. "Who drank my juice?" You slumped down the stool cradling your temples.

Your kids ignored you and started to blow the balloons and ran upstairs to get their cards. Like a zombie drained of the last brain cell, you assembled the balloons and the strawberry shortcake you got from the café you and Satoru often go for dates.

The door bursts open and Satoru walks in carrying a paper bag. His hair is in disarray while wandering his head around to find you.

"Happy Father's Day Papa!" Saika and Kouki chorused and ran to give him their cards. Latching on their Father's legs while fighting over each other who'll give the card first.

Satoru stood there confused then roamed his eyes around the house, only then did he notice the balloons and cake.

You walked up to him and kissed his lips sweetly and passionately. "Happy Father's Day, daddy~" you whispered the last part, away from your kids' hearing.

"Oh," was all he could muster. His confused face morphs to a playful one, accepting the card and giving you a wink, then mouthed a 'later' while wiggling his brows.

"I put all your favorite desserts, I wrote it too!" Saika pointed out her favorite ones. "Thank you for always tying my hair and always giving me a sip of your boba tea."

"Your welcome Cat, now you know that you have to be generous to hungry people. It's the virtue of generosity." Satoru looks away from you and pats his daughter's head.

"So Papa is generous because he gives me candies when I'm hungry... Okay! I'll be generous too." Saika clapped and gave her father a thumbs up

 I beg of you don't say anything more Princess, you're digging us our grave! Satoru inwardly screeched, refusing to meet your eyes. He needs to divert the topic.

"Very pretty like my Cat, thank you, Princess. You have Papa's penmanship," he kissed his daughter's temples and rubbed their noses. "I also have that penmanship when I was a baby. Oh, this is my favorite crepe! Look, this is Kiku-nii's favorite doughnuts."

"Yeah, I don't want Papa to starve, so I put lots in it. Don't starve Papa, 'kay?" The tiny hand pat Satoru's cheeks gently and innocent blue eyes stare at him with such softness that made him weak.

"Of course, Papa always eats Mama's cooking." His daughter clapped and kissed his nose and hug him tightly in glee.

"Oh, is this me Kikufuku?" Satoru laughed when Kouki showed him his card.

"Teacher said we should draw our favorite superhero and why you're similar. Papa's my superhero!" Kouki grinned and Satoru gasped, clutching his heart.

"Really? I'm your superhero? Is Papa cool?" He laughed in genuine joy to hear his son think of him so highly. Just the thought of it made him preen in delight.

"Papa's cool," Kouki agreed.

"You have good eyes," Satoru flick his finger and admired the photo again. "You like drawing Kikufuku? This is the most cat-like drawing I saw a third-grader could make." He should show this to Megumi who could only draw a stick figure of a cat when he was still eight years old.

"Isn't it cool Pa? Mama taught me how to draw a cat." Kouki looks so excited and pointed out a few things in the cat that he liked drawing. "Mama said it's Catoru."

"You know what, I'll put these in a frame. If you draw more cats, you might be the next Leonardo DaVinci. You definitely inherited my creative genes, I got A+ in art at high school," Satoru bragged making you roll your eyes. Because you know what really happened with that A+ grade.

"What did you draw Papa?"

"I Hollow Purple the curse I was fighting in my practical exam."

"... Nevermind," Kouki looks away.

"Oi! Why?!"

"But why a cat?" You asked, stopping Satoru from pouncing on Kouki.

"Because Papa is like a cat, a sneaky one that keeps stealing Mama," Saika supplied and Kouki nodded.

"..." Satoru rewinds the words. "Is that a compliment or what?" His face was twisted.

"Both," you agreed. "Where's my orange juice?"

A light bulb lit in his head and gave you the paper bag he got.

"Here, try it." Satoru pulled Kouki in his hug with Saika while you open the small thing and several brands of pregnancy kits greeted you.

"Either you ran out to get me orange juice or I dump these things in the trash can." You growled making him shrink back.

"Honey! You were like this with Kouki," he whined and kissed the forehead of his firstborn. "Just try? Right Kikufuku?"

Kouki nodded and squeeze himself into Satoru until he could sit on his Papa's lap while Satoru stroked his son's hair fondly.

"I'm not," you huffed but went to the bathroom anyway.

"Papa, what was that?" Saika asked as Satoru carried the two of them into the couch to wait.

"Thermometer?" Kouki frowned.

Satoru chuckled and just ruffled the hair of his two munchkins. What ought to be greater for father's day if he becomes a daddy of three?

Oh, it should be four. Shaking his head, Satoru ran his hand over his face and bit his lips. He can already imagine you being much more spoiled and demanding than you already are for the next nine months.

"Satoru! I'm gonna castrate you!"

Punching the air, Satoru clapped and laughed like a millionaire. He can already tell this one will be a spitfire.

He ran to the bathroom and greeted your dazed face. His hands found your hips and swing you around. His face found your shoulder, nosing your neck up and down, unable to stop his grin from ear to ear.

"Did you make a Daddy today, Honey?"

All you could do is bury your head in his neck and hug him tightly. Saika and Kouki joined in, clinging to their Papa's legs and asking to be swung around.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

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