#gar lick

[victusorflos]

I jneed.garlic

Garlic mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

[ramshacklerumble]

🌻 •V•

currently listening to MF Doom

so another line of thought i've been having is in fleshing out cusi, i've gotten some more info on the yzma expy that been connected to her-- hacintu

he's a pomefiore third-year (flunked last year, he actually should've been a senior already), i still need to design him, but i thought it would be really funny if i kept the cat-woman thing yzma has going on in the sequel. hacintu had a potion go wrong and is now has cat ears. also he was part of the science club at one point, but got kicked out. hacintu largely keeps to his not-so-secret-secret lab in pomefiore.

anyway i mention this because i figured out that cusi does get turned into a llama as like a b plot in book 5, the reason why she couldn't join SDC is that she was literally llama.

thing is cusi later finds out someone else was kinda also sorta involved in that...?

which is why at one point, cusi greets gia with a flying kick and oh boy, the not-girls are fighting.

[alastyr-not-alastair]

Hhhungryyyyyyyyyyy

[interretialia]

Nova Derivativa Verba Latina / New Latin Derivatives

lingentilepisostealis -e “gar-lick”   [lingens “licking” + Lepisosteus “gar” + -alis adjectival suffix]   [lingent- + Lepisosteo- + -ali-] stems   [lingenti- + Lepisosteo- + -ali-] with Connecting Vowel i   [lingentilepisosteo- + -ali-] new stem and stem   [lingentilepisoste- + -ali-] o disappears before a   [lingentilepisosteali-] new stem   [lingentilepisostealis] nominative singular

(Fons Imaginis.)

[thepinkwool]

Anyone else thought of the whole “You’re telling me a gar licked this bread?” But instead of the fish it’s the Grand Army of the Republic? Like the whole-ass GAR licking one singular piece of bread? Are these just my delulu silly bored at work thoughts? Because I can see Fives being served garlic bread and going ��wait. So you’re telling me. The entire GAR licked this bread?”

Apologies for the incoherent rambles, I needed to throw them into the void so they’d leave my head

[cumelon]

When does garlic bread with cheese become a cheese toastie with garlic?

[tricornonthecob]

Seven years later I'm still conflicted between being in awe of the world's chillest Gar swimming a few feet from me, or offended he swam right past my bait.

[okos-oddities]

garlic bread

I love garlic bread!!

[darkdragon768]

Fuck it.

*orders a shit ton of meme shirts*

[fish-daily]

you're telling me a shrimp licked this bread gar fry rice fish garlic fish

[number1bigmachintoshfan]

You're telling me this fish licked that bread?

🐊 alligator gar 🐊

[driverlando]

✧.* A REWARD FOR THE CHAMP

synopsis- you give Charles the perfect end to an unforgettable night (Charles leclerc x f!reader)

before you read- 18+ only, contains smut (oral, f receiving and m receiving and p in v) If you enjoy, pls reblog and follow! I'm a new writer and appreciate your support. :)

The sun was setting over the picturesque streets of Monaco, casting a golden hue over the harbour and the cheering crowds. Charles Leclerc had just achieved a lifelong dream and had broke the curse: winning the Monaco Grand Prix. The roar of the crowd and the national anthem still echoed in his ears as he made his way through the paddock, a broad grin never leaving his face.

In the team’s hospitality suite, his friends and fellow drivers gathered around, the celebratory mood infectious. Carlos Sainz, his teammate, was the first to embrace him, a proud grin on his face.

“You did it, mate! you’re a legend,” Carlos said, slapping Charles on the back.

Charles laughed, shaking his head. “I know, I know. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Max Verstappen, always competitive but genuinely happy for his friend, raised his glass in a toast. “To Charles, for making us all look slow on his home turf.”

Laughter rippled through the group, and Charles clinked glasses with his friends, basking in the moment. “Merci, les gars. Tonight, we celebrate!” (Thank you, guys)

As the evening wore on, the drivers slowly began to disperse, some heading back to their hotels, others to after-parties. Charles stayed a bit longer, enjoying the camaraderie, but his thoughts were already drifting to you. He knew you were waiting for him, and the thought of seeing you made his heart race faster than the last lap of the race.

“Heading home, champ?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

Charles nodded, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I have someone special waiting for me.”

Arthur chuckled. “Well, definitely don’t keep her waiting. Enjoy your night, Charles.”

With a final wave to his friends, Charles made his way out of the suite, the thrill of victory still coursing through his veins. The drive home was a blur, the familiar streets of Monaco rushing past until he finally pulled into the driveway of your shared apartment.

He opened the door quietly, stepping inside to find you waiting in the living room, a smile lighting up your face as soon as you saw him. You stood, crossing the room to wrap your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Félicitations, mon amour,” you whispered, your eyes sparkling with pride.

Charles held you close, his hands resting on your hips. “Merci, chérie. I couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

You smiled, taking his hand and leading him towards the couch. “I have a special celebration planned for you.”

His eyebrows rose in curiosity, but he followed without question. You gently pushed him to sit on the couch, your fingers working deftly to unbutton his shirt. He watched you, his breath hitching as you slid the fabric off his shoulders, revealing the toned muscles beneath.

“You’ve worked so hard for this,” you murmured, pressing kisses to his chest. “Tonight, let me take care of you.”

Charles’ eyes darkened with desire as he leaned back, watching you. “Je suis tout à toi,” (I’m all yours) he whispered, his voice husky. “Always so good to me”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, the heat pooling between your legs as you knelt before him, your hands trailing down his chest to the waistband of his pants. He watched you, anticipation clear in his gaze.

“Let me show you how proud I am,” you whispered, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. You freed him from the confines of his boxers, his erection springing free. He was already hard, his desire for you evident. His tip already leaking with pre cum.

Charles groaned as you wrapped your hand around him, giving a few slow, teasing strokes. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You smiled, your tongue darting out to lick the tip, tasting the salty essence of him. “Good,” you murmured, before taking him into your mouth.

His hips jerked involuntarily as you sucked him in deeper, your tongue swirling around him. You set a slow, torturous pace, wanting to savour every moment, every sound he made. Charles’ hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided your movements. His chest was already flushed, sweat pooling around his muscles. He looked like a dream.

“Mon Dieu,” (my God) he breathed, his voice thick with pleasure. “You’re amazing.”

His praise spurred you on, and you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked harder. His hips bucked, and you moaned around him, the vibration making him curse softly in French.

“Do you like that, Charles? Do you like how I make you feel?” you asked, pulling back slightly to stroke him with your hand.

“Oui, je t’adore,” (yes, I love it) he murmured. “I love it, I love you.”

You took him back into your mouth, increasing the pace. Charles’ breathing grew heavier, his grip on your hair tightening as he guided your movements. You felt him start to tense, his muscles coiling in anticipation of release.

“Mon amour, I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained with need.

You didn’t slow down, wanting to bring him the same intense pleasure he’d given you. His hips began to move in time with your motions, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his voice rough. “You’re perfect.”

With a final, deep thrust, he came undone, spilling into your mouth with a guttural moan. You swallowed every drop, savouring the taste of him as he shuddered beneath you.

When he finally caught his breath, he pulled you up into a searing kiss, tasting himself on your lips. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his hands caressing your back.

You smiled against his lips, your heart swelling with love. “Anything for you, Charles.”

He pulled you closer, his hands roaming over your body, as if memorising every curve, every inch of you. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you,” you whispered after a few minutes of kissing, once you knew he was undoubtedly getting hard for you again.

You wasted no time stripping off your clothes, the heat between you both too intense to ignore. You pushed him down onto the couch and straddled his hips, sinking down onto him with a gasp. The sensation of him filling you completely made your head spin, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Charles’ hands found your waist, steadying you as you began to move, rocking your hips against him. His eyes were locked on yours, his gaze filled with raw desire and adoration.

“C’est ça… tu te sens bien, n’est-ce pas?” (That's it... you feel good, don't you?) he murmured, his voice low and encouraging.

“Oui, Charles,” you gasped, your movements growing more frantic as you chased your release. “You’re so deep.”

“You’re being so good for me,” he praised, his grip tightening on your hips. “Is this your gift to me, yeah?”

“Oui, it’s all for you,” you whimpered, your hands resting on his flushed chest for support.

His hand slid from your hip to your thigh, encouraging you to move faster. “That’s right… use me… get yourself off.”

The intensity of his gaze, the feel of his hands on your skin, it all combined to drive you higher and higher until you were teetering on the edge. With a final, desperate moan, you came undone, your body shuddering around him as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Charles held you through it, his own release following closely as he watched you fall apart on top of him. His groan of satisfaction was music to your ears, and you collapsed against him, your body spent and trembling.

But he wasn’t done yet. With a gleam in his eye, Charles rolled you over gently, positioning you beneath him on the couch. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his expression tender yet filled with desire.

“I want to see you fall apart for me again,” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Let me make you feel even better. Let me have a taste”

Your breath hitched as he moved down your body, his lips trailing hot kisses over your skin. He paused, his eyes meeting yours as he kissed a path between your breasts, down to your stomach. Every touch, every kiss was electric, setting your nerves on fire.

“Charles, please,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way down to the apex of your thighs.

He grinned, his fingers parting your folds as his tongue flicked out, teasing your sensitive clit. The sensation was almost too much, your back arching off the couch as he lavished attention on you, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you to the brink once more.

Your moans filled the room, your hands clutching at the cushions as he pushed you higher and higher. He looked up, his eyes locking with yours as he murmured against your skin, “Come for me, mon amour. I want to feel you again.”

His words, combined with the relentless pleasure he was giving you, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as he continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last wave of pleasure.

When you finally came down, he crawled back up your body, kissing you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of just how intimately he knew your body.

“I love watching you fall apart,” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with awe and desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

You pulled him closer, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. “I love you, Charles.”

He smiled, brushing his lips against yours. “I love you too, more than anything.”He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, mon amour. The night was perfect.”

You smiled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. “You deserve it, Charles. I’m so proud of you.”

He stroked your hair, his touch tender and loving. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re my good luck charm.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “And you’re my champion.”

Charles chuckled, pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. “Here’s to many more victories, both on and off the track.”

You nodded, feeling content and loved in his arms. “To many more, Charles.”

Exhausted but blissfully content, you cuddled together on the couch, not bothering to go upstairs. The warmth of each other’s bodies, the rhythm of your breaths, and the unspoken bond of love and victory lulled you both into a peaceful sleep, a perfect end to an unforgettable day.

[a1307s]

Mating Season #2

(Garfield Logan Smut)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Beastie_Boy107]

Requested by: Myself

Keys:

None

Word Count: 4293

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Oral

Fingering

Overstimulation

Choking

Hair pulling

Cursing

Mentions of abuse

———————————————————————

     "Good morning," Gar whispers, littering soft kisses over my shoulder.

     "Morning," I whisper back, shifting to turn towards him. I wince in pain, my body aching everywhere from the night before.

     "I'm sorry," he says, covering my cheeks and nose with butterfly kisses. "Are you okay?"

     "Ya, just a little sore."

     "I'm sorry," Garfield says again, his hands sliding down my sides and taking hold of my hips. The bruises there ache under his touch. "You go take a relaxing shower, ya? And I'll run to the drug store." I hum in response, closing my eyes again to soak in the warmth of our bed. "I'll be right back" he says, placing a soft kiss on my lips before rolling out of bed.

     I listen to Gar shuffling around the room before slipping out the door. I stay in bed for a few minutes before finally sitting up. Pain creeps up the scratch on my back and aches pool at the bite marks covering my stomach. "It's going to be a very long day," I mumble to myself, slowly crawling out of bed.

     The walk to the bathroom is slow, my hips screaming in disagreement as I force myself to move. After the struggle to get to the bathroom, I start the water and decide to take a bath instead of a shower. There is no way I'll be able to stand long enough to shower.

     As the tub fills, I take the chance to check my nudeness in the body mirror. After last night I'm more marks than skin. I do a quick tally count of markings; 53 hickies, 27 scratches, and 89 bite marks. "The fuck Gar?" I ask the empty room. No wonder I'm in so much pain.

      I shake the image out of my head and waddle towards the tub. I turn the water off and dump in some non-scented Epsom salt. The last thing I need is any of the wounds to get infected from scented bath salts. It's a bit of a struggle trying to lift myself into the bath and then sit down but I do manage with a lot of aches and pains but hey, I did it.

     I'm not in the bath long before Garfield is back from the store. "Babe?" he calls, popping his head into the bathroom. "There you are," He chirps, walking into the bathroom with a bag on his arm. He sets it down on the sink before coming to sit next to the tub. "You feeling better?"

     "A bit," I answer, leaning forward to press my forehead against his.

      Garfield smiles at me, sticking his hands into the water to hold my sides. Once again, his fingertips are pushing into more marks but that's no surprise. It's hard not to with how many there are. "You look so pretty," he murmurs, rubbing circles into my skin.

     Gar's head picks up before dipping down to my neck. "Don't you dare," I hiss, lifting my hands from the water to tug his head away from me.

     "Why not?" he whines, tugging my hands out his hair and dipping his head back down. "You look so pretty with them, and I want to give you more." Beasty keeps a hold of my wrists in his hands as he starts licking me, using his tongue to trace over his workings of last night.

     "You should really talk to Nightwing," I say, trying to ignore the feeling of him and the stirring starting to build between my legs.

     "Why would I do that?"

     Beasty's teeth skim over the skin of my shoulder which is a nice break from the constant attacks that have been happening since yesterday. "To try and help with this. Not to be graphic but we don't know how long your... um... 'mating season' will last. I don't mind the aggression, but I hurt... a lot. If we're not careful I could get seriously hurt."

     "I'm sorry. I don't like hurting you and I'm trying really hard not to," he says, his lips grazing the top of my breast as he speaks.

     "I know, Gar. It's just a lot on my body."

     He hums, pressing kisses across my breasts before turning his lips towards my wrists still held in his hands. There's bruises around them from Beasty's tight hold last night. He works his way up from my wrists across my forearms and up my triceps before settling on my shoulder again. New hickies are left in his wake.

     "Gar," I whine, shifting in the tub to try detaching him from me. "Knock it off. I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you."

     "Let me fuck you again and then we can go talk to Nightwing," he bargains, dropping my wrists so he can dunk his hands into the tub and wrap them around my legs. "I promise I'll make you feel good instead of just prepping you to take me. I'll be soft too, I swear."

     "Lair," I mumble, wrapping my arms around his neck as he lifts me out of the tub. Water drips off of me, all over the floor, as Gar carries me from the bathroom to the bed. He's gentle as he lays me down. Once I'm settled, he drops to his knees to kneel on the floor in front of me.

     Beasty wastes no time, peeling my legs open and attaching his mouth to my inner thighs. He stays gentle, simply placing kisses along my body instead of sucking and biting the skin. "You're going to taste so good," he hums against me before sliding his tongue out to lick the water droplets off of me. His words send a wave of excitement through me, starting from my cunt before spreading through the rest of me.

     His tongue works its way up from my legs to my clit. Soft circles are licked over my nerve bundle, causing moans to roll out of me. "Garfield," I whine, reaching down for him. He shifts, sliding his arms under my knees and resting his hands on my hips. My fingertips slide over his shoulders, my nails digging into his shoulder blades. He takes his time on my clit before sliding his tongue down my pussy.

     Gar teases me with soft licks around my hole before plunging his tongue into me. My back arches some as the band in my groin tightens. "Please?" I whimper, my nails riding up from his shoulder blades to the top of his shoulders.

     "Please what?" Beasty asks, causing me to lose the friction. I don't lose it for long though. Once the words are out, he's right back to tongue fucking me.

     "I need more," I blabber, sliding my hands to the ends of his hair. He hums, slithering his tongue back to my clit as he uses his fingertip to trace my opening.  "Stop teasing," I huff, bucking my hips. I get what I want, two of his fingertips dipped into me. Garfield licks at me lazily as he moves his fingers slowly. Every now and again he curls them in me, getting a rewarding moan out of me each time. He continues this slow pace until my climax hits.

     My fingers curl in his hair as my inner walls cling to his fingers. Gar keeps working on me until I ride out my high, and even after he keeps tunning me. "Just fuck me," I whine, trying to tug him up my body.

     "Not yet Baby. I want you to feel good."

     "I do feel good," I whine again, tugging on the strands of hair wrapped up in my hands. Beasty ignores me, choosing to suck on my clit and work his fingers in me instead. It doesn't take long for my second orgasm to build up and wash over me again. "Come on," I say, my breath heavy, "Please fuck me, Gar."

     "Just one more," He answers, pulling his fingers out of me and replacing it with his tongue. His tongue works my insides as his thumb focuses on my clit. The sensation is sharp from overstimulation as the pleasure races through my body. My legs start to shake as my third orgasm builds up. I end up squeezing around Beasty's head as I come undone again.

     "Good girl," He hums, making soft licks through my folds. Garfield lifts his head to look up at me. His face is dripping from my juices and his eyes are slitted like they were last night. My legs start to close again but he stops them, pushing them open and crawling between them in order to keep them open.

     Soft kisses are littered over my stomach as my boyfriend works himself out of his clothing. His skin is warm against mine as it comes in contact with me. "You should go on birth control," Gar says, digging his arm under me before flipping me onto my knees.

     "Why?" I ask hazily, moving my arms to prop myself up.

     "So I can keep creampie-ing you," Beasty answers, lining himself up to me. "It'll be cheaper than constantly buying Plan-Bs."

     Garfield pushes the head of his penis into me, only going in an inch or two before pulling out again. He continues doing this as he slides his hand up my back and over my shoulder before wrapping around my neck. He uses this to prep me up, still on my knees but my back is arched, and my head is rested against his chest. "I didn't get to see your face last night. I want to make sure I see it now," he mumbles, softly kissing my lips before thrusting his full length into me.

     His grip tightens around my throat, cutting off most of the air flow. Just like his fingers, he slowly thrusts into me, but unlike before, the impact is harder. My hands slide up his arms, wrapping my fingers around his as I try to loosen his grip. Gar's thrusts are almost painfully slow as I feel myself tightening around him. The pleasure is still paired with the sharpness of overstimulation, causing the slow pace to be even more unbearable.

     "I'm sorry," He whispers into my ear. After a few more thrusts he lets go of me. From the lack of support, I fall back onto all fours. Before I have time to regain my balance, Beasty grabs my hips, using them to force me back onto his dick. His pulling picks up along with his thrusts.

     "Hey!" I yelp, unable to balance myself from the constant movement. "You said... said you were going to be gentle."

     Gar ignores me. Instead, he pushes down on my back, causing my arms to go out from under me. His hand buries into my hair, forcing my head backwards and my back to arch. "I said I wanted to see your face," he says, still using his other hand to force my hips to meet his. "Stay in place."

     After the order is let out, Beasty's hand leaves my hair and wraps around my neck again. His eyes stay locked on me, the slits of them causing small shots of fear to mix in with my arousal. Tears prickle the sides of my eyes from continual overstimulation and lack of air. "Don't cry, Baby. I'm almost done, I promise," Gar says, rubbing the side of my neck with his thumb.

     Garfield dips his head, placing a kiss to my lips before littering the rest of my face with kisses as well. "Fuck," he mumbles, letting go of my neck and dropping his hand back down to my waist. His claws dig into my hips, scratching down them as he forces them back. Beasty is bottomed out in me, every centimeter of his dick being gripped by my pussy. Within seconds, my womb is filled by Gar, the same warm feeling from last night filling me up once again.

     He stays tucked in me, claws still dig in my skin, as he slumps on top of me, causing me to fall on to my stomach with my ass still propped in the air. His breath is heavy huffs of air. His body is warm and sticky against my own. "Gar," I murmur, shift my hips to try and get him to release me.

     "Don't do that," He barks, picking his head up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell," He murmurs, laying his head back down on my shoulder.

     Beasty rests against me for a few minutes before straightening up again. Kisses are planted along my spine as he slowly slides out of me. "Don't move. I'll be right back," He orders before slipping off the bed and walking away from me.

     I can feel Garfield's seed leak out of me as I wait for him. The bed dips when he appears back behind me. "That won't do," he mumbles, using his fingers to shove his cum back into me. His free hand falls to my stomach, pushing it up so my ass raises more.

     "Gar-"

     "I want to watch it drain into you," He says, running a warm rag along the insides of my thighs.

————————————

     Garfield's hands wonder around my body, underneath my sweatshirt and his head is buried in my hoodie collar as he nibbles on my neck.

     "Knock it off," I say, trying to shrug him off of me as we approach the Mountain's living room.

     "No," He whines, sliding his hands to the waist band of my yoga pants. His fingertips dip down, messing with the waist band of my underwear. "You went and covered all my work. Now people can't see that you're mine."

     "Oh yes, cause I'm sure everyone would react in a 'oh that's Gar's girl' way and not in a 'oh my god Gar beat the shit out of her' way," I sarcastically whisper as we get closer to the common area. He whines again, but complies by pulling his mouth off of me and lifting his hands to my stomach. They're still under my sweatshirt but it's improvement.

     "Good morning!" Robin says as we enter the room.

     "Good morning Rob," I answer, holding back a wince forming from Garfield digging his claws into me. Robin glances at Garfield's arms around me but doesn't say anything as he turns back to his book. "Hey Rob?" I call out, pushing Garfield's arms off me and walking towards Batman's protégé.

     "What's up?" Robin asks, glancing up from his book.

     "Do you know where Nightwing is?"

     Robin's mask locks on my neck. His mouth opens a couple times but closes again after each attempt to speak. "I... I'm... not sure," He says, glancing at Gar before leaning forward and tugging my hoodie down some. His mask lenses widen at the sight of my neck.

     "I'll go find him for you," Jaime peeps up, but Robin cuts him off.

     "No, no, I'll go find him. You chill here with Jaime, ya?" He asks, standing up and resting his hands on my shoulders. "Ya, good plan," He answers himself, softly pushing me toward the couch and plopping me down next to Jaime.

     Robin quickly turns on his heels and pretty much runs out of the room, leaving everyone in the room very confused.

     "I fucking told you," I say to Beasty, propping my feet up in the coffee table and shoving my hands into my front pocket before snuggling into my hoodie.

     "Ya, ya, ya," Gar mumbles, taking wide strides toward me. When he gets in front of me, he gently lifts my head and plants a kiss on my lips.

     "Get a room bro," Cassy teases as she pretends to throw up.

     My boyfriend rolls his eyes before sitting down next to me. He tucks his hands back under my hoodie, wondering them up to the underwire of my bra. Gar tucks his head back into my collar, littering my already bruised skin with more nips. He does as he pleases, half pulling me onto his lap during the process. 

     "Maybe chill a little," Jaime peeps out, glancing between us and the tv.

     "Maybe shut up," Beasty says, pulling me the rest of the way on his lap. His fingertips slither under my bra and start pawing at my breasts.

     "Garfield!" Nightwing yells, the sound of his stomps and Robin's soft pitter patter filling the emptiness afterwards. Gar ignores it though, continuing to fettle with me. Though, the nipping has switched to kitty licks. "Garfield," Nightwing repeats a lot calmer as he appears in the room. "We should talk."

     "Ya, probably," he mumbles, dropping his hands down to my waist and lifting me up as he stands. 

     "Maybe let's not have you do that," Nightwing says, tearing me from Gar and placing me on my feet in front of him. 

     The pressure of holding my own weight sends numbing shoots of pain through my hips. The walk to the living room was quite tiring and painful, so I'm sure this walk will be the same. "Ya, no," Gar says, lifting me up again before heading out of the room. 

     "I can walk, Babe," I say, letting my legs dangle as I hold on to his neck.

     "You can but you shouldn't."

     I can feel Nightwing's glare as we walk through the mountain. The glare doesn't loosen as we enter the Medbay and sure as hell doesn't loosen when Garfield sets me on one of the beds. "So..." Gar starts, nervously rubbing his neck. "I fucked-" literally "-up a bit." 

     "No shit, really? From what Robin tells me it's not 'a bit', it's a lot," Nightwing says, still glaring at Gar as Robin attempts to send me a comforting smile.

     "Hey I can explain-" 

     Nightwing waves Gar off. Instead, the older hero walks up to me. "Do you mind undressing? We need to check for injuries."

     "Technically they're not injuries. They're-"

     "If you are uncomfortable, I can ask Cassy or Batgirl to do the injury report. Or if Garfield is making you feel unsafe, I can have him moved to different room."

     "Gar doesn't making me feel unsafe, and I don't care if you check me over," I answer, tugging my hoodie off before sliding off the bed. "They're not injuries though."

     "This is a safe space. If Garfield is hurting you-" Robin starts but cuts himself off when he looks down my body. Nightwing and Robin stand still as they look over me, both of their mouths open and their faces scrunched up. 

     "If you don't see those as injuries, what do you see them as?" Robin asks, glancing between me and his notepad as he starts his report.

     "Love marks..." I say, wrapping my arms around my chest with the sudden awareness of how exposed I am. 

     Garfield's eyes are also locked on me, his pupils slitted like I've grown use too. He walks towards me, causing Robin and Nightwing to stiffen up. Gar's arms wrap around my own in an attempt to cover me some more. "I think my... uh... aggression and... protectiveness is connected to my animalistic genes."

     Nightwing glances between the two of us before looking down at his own report. He repeats this a few times, struggling to come up with a reply. "Possibly," He finally breathes out, taking a step forward to untangle Beasty from me. "So... I... have questions," OG Robin says, pulling up a wheely chair to sit in. My boyfriend isn't too happy with being removed from me, but he doesn't reattach himself. Instead, he sits on the hospital bed. "First is there more - uh - 'love bites'?"

     "Ya there is," I answer tugging my yoga pants off before joining Gar on the bed.

     "What the fuck?" Robin mumbles when he gets a look at my legs. He takes a second, walking to the other end of the room before appearing next to Nightwing again. He pulls up his own chair but places it in front of me. "May I?" He asks gently, tapping his fingertips on top of my legs.

     "Yes."

     "No," Gar answers, pushing Robin's hand off of me. 

     "Gar," I say, glancing at him. "If you're going to act like this you can't be in here as I get checked over." He mumbles to himself before shifting away from me a bit. "Yes, you can," I repeat, turning my attention to Robin. 

     Nightwing glances between Gar and me as Robin opens my legs to checks over my wounds. Robin's hands feel cold against me as he presses and prods at me. "Turn around," he says once he's done checking my front and legs. I obey, turning around to face the wall. "That's... not better," he mumbles, shifting around and causing his chair to squeak. 

     "So... um... was protection used?" Nightwing stumbles out, his pen scratching against his notebook.

     "No, but she did take a Plan B this morning," Gar answers, shifting backwards so he can look at me. His hands make contact with my waist, rubbing up and down my sides as his eyes wonder. 

     "You guys really need to be using protection. If condoms aren't something you want to use, birth control needs to be taken instead. Though I do recommend continuing to use condoms even if you decide to start using any form of birth control." Nightwing stops for a minute, taking a breather before he continues talking. "How many times did you... ya... in her... ya," Nightwing asks, struggling to come up with the right words.

     "Does it matter?" Gar asks, attaching his mouth to my shoulder. 

     "Please stop that," Our leader starts, "And yes, a bit. The more... attempts, the higher chances of pregnancy."

     "I don't know, like-" Gar starts, ignoring the order and continuing to suck on me.

     "Four last night and once this morning," I answer, trying hard not to pull away from the stinging Robin's fingers are causing. The two bat protégées stare at us for a while before going back to their work.

     "Okay... we are going to... uh... have another checkup in two weeks to... check the efficiency of the Plan B. For you Gar, we're going to run a blood test," Nightwing says, stumbling over his words. Robin's hands drop off of me before turning towards his own report.

     "Why?" He asks, detaching long enough for me to turn around. It's not long until Beasty is reattached, this time to my neck. 

     "Knock it off," The adult in the room says, tugging Garfield off of me. "What is up with you?"

     "I don't know. I can't help myself. I just need to do it. And I really, really need to be..." Gar cuts himself off, shifting himself around before hopping off the bed.

     "Okay... We're going to run a blood test on you to get a better understanding of what's going on and hopefully be able to find a solution to... this," Og says, motioning towards me.

     "I mean, a solution would be nice. I don't like constantly being angry and... ya... but she should be fine. A little achy but she'll be okay in a couple days so it shouldn't really matter if it happens again," Gar says, picking up my clothes and helping me put them back on.

     "I wouldn't be too sure of that," Robin says, looking up from his notebook. "Bite marks - which seems to be most of the wounds - can lead to tissue damage and blood clotting. Hickies can also lead to blood clots. Not to mention if any of the wounds - scratches included - get infected it can lead to fevers, and headaches, and possibly death."

     "Oh," Gar whispers, pulling my hoodie over my head and shimming it into place.

     "Luckily I don't see any blood clotting at the moment, but I'll have to check again in a couple days," Robin adds, glancing at me before continuing to write.

     "Do not be adding any more, you hear me?" Nightwing asks, glaring at Garfield once again. "In the meantime," he continues, turning towards me, "Take aspirin to avoid a blood clot building, make sure you're drinking plenty of water, and I recommend cold compresses. Try mixing peppermint oil with lotion and applying that too." 

     "Why peppermint oil?" I ask, watching as Robin prepares to take Garfield's blood sample.

     "Peppermint oil helps repair broken blood vessels and broken tissue," Nightwing answers, continuing to write his own report.

     "Arm please," Robin asks Gar, holding a needle in his hand. Beasty obeys, stretching his arm out so Robin can extract his blood. "I'll get it tested and let you know the results by the end of the day."

     "You're excused now," Nightwing says once Robin is done.

     Gar helps me off the bed, holding me up as we walk out of the room. "So... how are you feeling?" I ask as we walk back towards our room. 

     "On one hand, I feel really bad for hurting you and I don't want to leave anymore markings," He answers, lifting me up before pushing the bedroom door open so he can walk through. 

     "On the other hand?" I ask as my back comes in contact with our bed.

     Beasty crawls between my legs, his hands sliding under my hoodie again. "On the other hand, Nightwing telling me what I can and can't do to your body really makes me want to leave more. Not to mention the building need to fuck you again after watching Robin running his hands over you." Gar's words fill me up and let me know we’re going to be having a very active day today.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Jaune and Yang are out on a date at a 'fancy' restaurant.

Yang: You're Telling me a Shrimp Fried this rice?

Jaune: And that a Gar Licked this Bread?

Weiss, their waitress: ...

~~~~~

Yang: *Sitting out on the sidewalk* ...

Jaune: *Sitting with her* ... Hot dogs?

Yang: Sure.

[catgirltoofies]

you're telling me a gar licked this bread ⁉️

[crying-fantasies]

Medical play

Masterlist

Featuring TF: Earth Wars Game! Barricade, smut/humor, CW: reader putting a hand over the mech, dubious consent (both are drunk every time they get nasty), licking, implied oral, implied fingering and penetration, implied blowjob, messy make-out, Barricade is a menace and an afthole, the reader has a thing for praxian frames (who doesn't?)

There is just so much you can go around from one medical habsuit to the next, Ratchet and First were very serious on the topic of not exhausting yourself, a pair of complete hypocrisy as both are out cold after dual missions, you don't have more hands to help as Minerva is still recharging after a 39hrs shift, Knock Out and Wreck-gar are still out in the field, the first most likely requesting to come back already not due to worrying over you but his paint.

So there's only you when the Decepticons group comes back from a fight with whatever is coming from Cybertron, the big door opens and they see you, alone, they can't even get angry anymore as they practically toss some of their mechs on the floor, someone's arm strut almost crushes you and makes you scream, Tantrum has no much to say but “all yours, squishy doctor” as you get near to notice the two mechs tossed at you are Barricade and Waspinator; Astrotrain, bless his spark, stays longer than the rest of them, looking at you as Waspinator starts to cry out in distress, Barricade may still be rebooting due to his silence, he gives you an uncertain glance before asking “need a servo, doc?”

There is no more energy as the cries intensify, he is cringing internally from it, you can notice, especially when Barricade’s system crashes and he wakes up in intervals, shouting obscenities, “I would love some help, Astro”.

Being a doctor in the base has its pros, more than one Decepticon is indebted to you, and while not all are as nice or bearable as Astrotrain, well, you manage, the number of attempted murders against you has dropped significantly, that's progress, a constant mantra repeating in your head when Astro goes back to his barracks once both Decepticons are tossed on the medical berths, he looks at you, waiting, and you let him go as this is routine.

Monotonous, boring routine, almost every soldier and high command has already passed on your hands from a devastating blow through their spark chamber or a detailing session to calibrate sensors right and get the dirt out, you've seen it all, you've lived it all, at least for a human, Drift said you're an old soul and Ratchet told him to shut up.

Perhaps you are an old one inside, as you collect patience to shove energon candy to Wasp’s mandibles, letting him be concerned over his goodies and not his arm strut going back to where it belongs, his antenna does pick up in what you're doing when you're done, “Waspinator did well?” your tired smile speaks volumes, “You did great buddy”.

Takes time and a lot of effort to catch on to what makes them let you work, Waspinator tends to forget about the world with energon candy, others when you do part of a psychiatrist and listen to their ranting, some good tea, extra spicy in some occasions, some want you to be a “service drone” by just doing the work done, for those your hands and treatment get a little rougher.

You're proud to say that fewer Decepticons turn away from the med bay when you're in charge or alone.

Now, Wasp is entering the cryostasis pod for a recovery nap, that lets you with-

“You spawn of a glitch!”

Barricade, whose mind seems to still be in the war zone, his struts are a mess, has blaster openings on more than one side and one optic isn't working. Given that he isn't in a worse state then maybe Hook went with them on this occasion.

Still, all his wires are an utter mess.

“What-?”, takes a moment for him to run right, but once he does you are very close to overriding his system manually, “Oh, oh, nice day, doc”.

Your teeth are going to turn out into powder by how hard you're grinding them, “good afternoon, Barricade”.

This is the reason why you sent Astrotrain away and put Waspinator into the cryo pod, your reputation among the Decepticons has improved so well, that you feel proud about it and almost jumped on your feet when Megatron called you “beneficial flesh bag”.

You will not lose that.

Barricade chuckles, helm pressing to the medical berth, looking at you like he wants to take a bite, “Come on, told you to call me Barry ages ago”, his only good servo tries to touch under your lab coat, you try to keep it civil, but he is doing it so hard, pushing his digit away only has him scowling “thought I already fragged your stupid uprightness away last night cycle”.

That, you're trying to forget about that as your fingers start to move away the plating which is poorly mangled, and his panels are an utter eyesore, but at least his internals aren't damaged, you can do this fast and spare yourself the mortification of hearing him talk about the most recent drunken misstep, the many, embarrassing many drunken missteps, “Barricade, I’m a medical official, you're an enforcer, we must keep it professional”.

With an air of anticipation, he clicks his glossa, just as you had predicted, “Professional this, professional that, that’s all you talk about”, he has an arm twisted abnormally backward, wires and lines messed up, but all that doesn't stop him from trying to get into your pants while sober, “what happened to the doctor that reached a fleshy servo inside my valve to check, uh? Or the doctor who tested my transfluid and gave me the all-good?”

Memories flush as fast as the rush of your blood coursing through every vein and artery, there is never quite enough to make a full picture and you swear that there is not even an ounce of resolve that wants to remember as you put his plating out of the way, trying to concentrate on the task and welding machine at hand, but it's so hard when he is looking at you like that and doing obnoxious, heavy ventilations laced with groans and the occasional moan when you drag away plating with force, “just like that, doc, you know how I like it”.

Who could've known that he had this kind of interest, yet again, Runamuck said something along the lines of you being the primary reason for his curious awakening in new interfacing techniques, and even giving you the hint that maybe you two should make it official to this point, you don't have a friend to care about to give the news so what are you waiting for? He says it with sincerity, unbecoming from a Decepticon, still with the usual bite most of them have.

Most people tend to their friends or interests, leaving lonely you at a corner of the bar full of people and cybertronians, never having the time to make some bonding, friendship, or fraternity, glancing respectfully at a pretty praxian that seems to be the focus of many as he talks, surrounded by his friends. Drinking to have the courage to go there and talk with him isn't the answer, that much has been proved over and over, as your feet wobble and your brain is soon to fall asleep from the intoxication.

The first time it happened, it was a mistake. You were drunk, just holding onto the first servo you could find, searching for that telling chevron as you looked up, and in the way his door wings perked up by the contact, he was just as drunk as you, overcharged, but still had the decorum to get you into his habsuit before punching the close buttons in haste. You aren't proud of yourself, much less when his red optics look at your hand pressing over his chest plate, urging him to the berth, following your command not by force or by his weakened state, he wants to and even has the vulgarity to put his servos under his helm, expecting you to do whatever you desire and go along with him, like you were some service drone ready to do the job.

Barricade found himself unprepared for the sudden pressure of your fingers over usually unused buttons and crevices of his chest, you had the medical knowledge to override his self-protection protocol. Exposing his spark, shining hard, light flowing into your face, so pretty, so enticing, a literal star in front of you.

It's hard to believe you forced him to do anything, but yet again, the bastard remembers that night with a dreamlike smile.

It would be foolish to just let it be, but you also felt stupid waking up the morning after, your radio almost blowing up with 39 messages from First Aid, resuming them in “your shift started 6 hours ago, I’ve distracted Ratchet from noticing but now Ratbat is whining to be treated by your hands only, where the frag are you?” as your face, middle and lower body have the sticky feeling of semi-dried transfluid, your partner of the previous night recharging soundly by your side.

Only one look at him and you were running from that habsuit like it was a contamination chamber, no matter how many times you ran, you still, somehow, ended up on his habsuit, on repeated occasions, always brought by bad decisions, alcohol and high-grade, mixed with xenophilia, Barricade kicked out his habsuit partner without any decorum, both in a frenzied and drunken mist to even care when Runamuck tells him “hey, I'm happy you finally stopped to be an annoyance in the highway, but could you frag the flesh bag somewhere else?!”, still, you both know he won't say a word, just allowing him to go make a ruckus in the nearest street, leaving you both to your own and trying to feign ignorance when he wants to put an audio receptor in the door when you moan, leaving anyway when things seem to be too gross for him, more times than not that's when Barricade shoves his glossa inside your mouth, almost getting off by the way you try to suck it, earning a wicked groan as his servos grip too hard over your chest and ass, leaving pretty marks here and there.

Both of you don't care, hardly keeping at bay where hands or servos reached before you put him over the berth with a firm tone, urging him to show you his spark chamber for a quick examination, feeling a hot, fluid rush from head to toe when he does as requested, waiting for you to take place over his abdominal armor, fingers creeping over his array, opening it manually, the smell of ozone heavy in the dark habsuit, your hands hold your weight, telling him to show the resilience of his hips if he could haul your insignificant body in constant pumping so you could measure the electrical flow of his stabilizers.

Oh, and he showed off so well last night.

“Bet you wanted to treat another praxian”, at that side remark he can only yelp when you tug way too hard on his line, Barricade is soon to shout at you, stopping, realizing you have detangled the mess the others made on the war zone with a single pull in a movement, no leaking, no lasting pain, but a scorching, painful pressure over his interface panel when he compares this fed up and angry you to the one liking over his sensors and modules while calling him a “good patient”.

His optics and biolights flare, a telltale you've reluctantly become familiar with.

“Is that everything, Barricade?”, you're frustrated with his nonsense, trying to get him away as soon as possible when you catch on his ventilation fans overworking, he smells like ozone.

“Now that you are asking-”

“Fleshy doc!”

He gets away from you with outstanding force and speed, another batch of Decepticons is at the hangar door, knocking first, it gives you another source of happiness and pride as Gnaw does it in place of just barging right in, finally some improvement, enough time for you to catch on your canned shower and aromatherapy spray, using great amount over your body and Barricade, who isn't pleased in the slightest to smell like lemon and vanilla, again, "yeah, come in!"

You try your best to disregard his disapproving look, realizing that what you said didn't come out the way you wanted it to given the circumstances.

.

I love Bayverse Barricade but I love this interpretation of him a little more, very handsome, even when he doesn't look that much like the original, and very obsessed with the game once again, but in the variety is the pleasure.

@tf-kinktober2024