#HE SHOULDN'T BE ALLOWED TO LOOK THIS HOT

[conjuring-ghouls]

You call on me to solve a crooked rhyme (x)

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever. 

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise. 

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right. 

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look. 

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.  

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner. 

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.” 

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink. 

Mrs. Peña. 

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you. 

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh. 

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?” 

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath. 

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table. 

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable. 

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as  you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor. 

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you. 

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene. 

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon). 

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed. 

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun. 

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me. 

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs. 

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place. 

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself. 

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?” 

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance. 

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble. 

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his. 

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch. 

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him. 

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?” 

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation. 

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name. 

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.  

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance. 

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation. 

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more. 

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles. 

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken. 

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there. 

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace. 

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.” 

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him. 

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.” 

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth. 

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.” 

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there. 

 A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement. 

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.” 

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what  you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.” 

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt. 

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping. 

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.  

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.” 

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars. 

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently. 

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh” 

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs. 

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs. 

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you. 

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were. 

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs. 

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones. 

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. 

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.” 

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | age gap, reader is nineteen | mild exhibitionism | size difference | choking | objectification (f receiving)

BRUCE WAYNE was in the hot seat. Well, more appropriately, Batman was in the hot seat. Which meant it was time for the billionaire playboy to make a public appearance so controversial, any press worth their tacks would cover his televised blunder rather than some depressing masked vigilante’s dealings. People prefer gossip over politics, and Bruce knows how to work an angle.

You’re a fresh adult, but the people already know you. A perfect Gotham sweetheart: a little darling on the front cover of lingerie magazines, starring as a bombshell in motion pictures, named the honor of the Ice Princess last month. You wore your little feathery outfit, next to nothing in the freezing cold, and turned on the city's giant Christmas tree lights just as the Ice Princess does every year. Known for your youth and beauty, Bruce knew you were the perfect candidate to take all the attention away from where it shouldn't be. Tabloids couldn't decide whether to praise the seasoned billionaire for landing a nineteen-year-old catch, or condemn him for having a mid-life crisis.

"Bruce Wayne seen with Gotham's Ice Princess." was everywhere anyone looked. It seemed the city had taken quite a protective role over you, which is exactly what Bruce needed.

Now that he's got you, he flaunts you. He lets you lug him around town, any local events that could be televised are his priorities. There, he makes a big show of touching you in ways only a lover is allowed to. Things that make you pat his huge bicep scoldingly. "Brucie!" you chide with a gasp, "You're so shameless." you say, but you fucking love it. How he openly mouths at your neck, lapping and sucking on your pulse point enough for lewd pretty sounds to slew from your parted lips. Little whimpers that any onlookers eat up.

He'll grope you unabashedly, big hand grabbing at your ass or giving it a swat. He needs those cameras to see how gross he is, how crazy he is about his nineteen-year-old situationship. If you get kissed, it's fucking sloppy. Mostly tongue, tongue outside the mouth as much as he can appropriately get away with. His "dirty sense of humor" will bleed into the public scene as well, hugging you from behind only to jokingly engulf your neck with his hand to fake a choke.

Every single one of these things he does for attention, leaves you hot and bothered. Frustrated from his treatment of you that's so warm when there are prying eyes, but so cold when you're finally alone together. You want Bruce Wayne to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, but when doors are closed suddenly it's: "Something's come up." or "The sushi hit me wrong." Or the worst one of all: the polite, civilized, but uninterested act. You're all over him, begging for him to finally fuck you after stringing you along and teasing you so ardently all day, and he treats you as if you are an acquainted business associate who has overstayed her welcome. You don't get it. An hour ago he was pulling your neckline towards him for a peek down your dress, and now he's showing you the door with a smile on his face.

[konigsblog]

car sex with simon riley

cw: semi-public sex, f!reader. 18+

simon riley can be so goddamn difficult. you know he means well, that he's overprotective because he cares, that he wants people to know who you belong to. but god, it can be so frustrating at times when you're trying to leave the house in a dress too skimpy for simon's approval. maybe, if he came with you, he'd allow it.

something else simon does is flirt with you publicly, or become sexual in public. underneath the restaurant table, he'd guide your hand over his hard bulge, grinding against your hand gently while maintaining eye contact with you, a smirk evident on his stupid face.

it shouldn't surprise you that simon wants to fuck you in public, or at least semi-public. when both of your hands are pressed against the window, the car becoming hot and steamy after a night out to a restaurant. he'd been flushed the entire time, giving you a stare with heavy eyelids and delirium inside his hazel eyes. you could feel the force and impact of his broad, large hips smacking against your ass, causing you to push your face up against the window, panting heavily like a dog while your pussy became wetter and wetter around his lengthy and achingly stiff cock. simon slammed deep into you, letting out a hoarse grunt, his dick twitching inside your wet heat.

“look at you, enjoyin’ this baby? you like lettin’ people know what a cock dumb slave ya’are f’me, yeah? dirty girl, ‘m gonna treat you like a whore tonight’...”

his words turn you on, his large body hunched over inside the backseat of the car, with his veiny cock pushed deep inside your cunt. you moaned through the ecstasy and the sensation of your tight hole pulsing around his throbbing cock, body shaking as he rubbed your clit, your moans becoming louder and louder. you wouldn't be surprised if the car was shaking from his rough and aggressive thrusts, fucking into you while muttering pure filth into your ear, the tip of his wet shaft pressed firmly against your cervix as he spurted thick loads of his hot cum.

[vivwritesfics]

Princess

"But daddy, I love him!"

Warnings: the stroll family, hints of smut

April, 2022

"Princess."

Her expression was vicious as she looked at the man in the orange race suit. But he was smirking as he sauntered towards her. She gripped the table top she was sitting on, ready to kick him away if he got to close. "What do you want, Norris?"

"Shouldn't you be in the Aston Martin garage?" He leaned on the table beside her, looked up at her through his pretty eye lashes. God, she couldn't stand him.

She nodded towards Daniel, her future brother-in-law's best friend. He had somehow become her best friend, too, through the near two years they had known each other. But him drove for McLaren, and his teammate was an ass.

Lando was so close. If anybody else was this close to her, she would have been pushing them away, calling them a creep. But this was almost a challenge. She was daring him to come closer, to lay his hands on her. He was smart enough not to.

"You know you're on my side of the garage, right?"

"You know I don't care, right?"

The two stared at each other. No, she wasn't going to move. She let her legs swing as she looked across the McLaren garage, looked towards Daniel and Scotty.

Lando wasn't looking at her as the next words left his lips. "Come to my hotel room later," he whispered. The only indication that she heard him was when she stopped swinging her legs. Lando didn't know if this was a yes, but he walked away from her, walked over to his engineer.

She hopped off of the table and walked over to Daniel and Scotty. It was so natural for her to tuck herself under Scotty's arm, as if he was already her brother-in-law.

Daniel and Scotty looked down at the youngest member of the Stroll family. "Are we heading back?" She asked, looking at him so sweetly.

Scotty squeezed her shoulder and looked at his friend. "Duty calls," he said and walked away with her still tucked under his arm. But it wasn't the easiest way to walk and, as they headed out of the McLaren garage, she freed herself from his grip.

"What were you and Lando talking about?" Scotty asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity as they walked.

She shrugged her shoulders and smoothed out the skirts of her little black dress. It was one of those sports dresses, with the shorts built into them. She wasn't exactly doing any sport, but it was cute and it was so damn hot in Australia. "He was just being an ass," she said as Scotty walked her to the Aston Martin garage.

The name Lando had called her wasn't cute, or mocking. It was what everybody called her. She was Lawrence Stroll's youngest child, his little princess. He didn't want her walking the paddock by herself, which was why Scotty was by her side like a loyal lap dog. Anything to make his future father-in-law happy.

Scotty raised his eyebrows at her, but she shrugged him off and skipped over to her family.

***

The hotel corridor was dark, quiet. She tiptoed along, her feet in the fluffy slippers she had insisted that she brought to every race weekend. The reason she needed them was incredibly simple: She refused to sneak through a hotel corridor with nothing on her feet.

He had texted her the room number just minutes before, waiting for the moment she wasn't surrounded by her family. As soon as he had texted her, she got changed, dressing in her prettiest lingerie and his old shirt.

She had stolen it on the last race weekend, had kept it hidden in her bag as she headed back home. There was nothing he loved more than seeing her in his clothing.

Nobody came out of their rooms as she knocked on his. There was a moment before the hotel room door was pulled open, a moment where he looked through the peephole, made sure it was her.

The minute he opened the door, she launched herself at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he pushed the door shut. "Jesus," he whispered through a laugh as his arms settled around her, holding her against his body.

She allowed herself to be dragged into the hotel room. She was kissing all over his face as he settled on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. "Hi, Princess," he whispered as she kissed him again.

She kissed him again, cutting off whatever he was going to say next. Lando didn't much mind, though. He kissed her back eagerly as her hands moved into his hair. "You should let it grow out," she said through kissed as she tugged at his hair. He let out a throaty groan.

His fingers travelled down her sides, almost light enough to tickle her. She squirmed away slightly as he gripped the bottom of her shirt. "This mine?" He asked and went to pull it up over her head.

She nodded and lifted her arms. Lando pulled off her shirt and threw it into the corner of his hotel room. His lips moved down her neck, kissing his way to her chest.

She tugged on his hair again as he kissed her chest, hands grabbing at her waist. He moved her against him, rocked her in his lap. "Have you got the matching undies on, too?"

Pulling away, she smacked his shoulder. "Lando, don't call it that!" She cried and glared at him.

He threw his head back and looked at her through his lower lashes. "You want to get it on, or what?" He asked, almost joking as he bucked her hips up and launched her forwards, into his chest.

She pushed on his chest as she sat up. "Classy," she whispered , but she was grinning as she pushed her pyjama shorts down and reached for him.

"You know it," he said, sitting back with his hands behind his head.

June, 2023

Daniel was no longer driving for McLaren. She had no reason to go over to the McLaren garage, not now that Daniel wasn't driving.

Sitting in the Aston Martin garage was incredibly boring. She tapped away at her phone, nails clicking against the screen as she texted. "You don't have to be here, you know," Lance said as if he could tell how badly she wanted to be somewhere else. "You can go home."

But she didn't want to go home. She wanted to head to the McLaren garage and watch Lando do his thing. "But..." She looked around the garage, looking for any excuse to stay in the garage. "I want to watch Nando do his thing."

Rolling his eyes, Lance stood and left her to it.

Someone was watching her. Her phone pinged and she looked down at her screen. you look pretty today. She looked up to see him in front of the Aston Martin garage. He wasn't looking at her, instead pretending to frown at his phone.

Stalker, she replied, unable to hide her grin. And I look pretty everyday.

She saw him laugh to himself, glance up quickly, and walk off. no, you're right, he sent to her as he walked back to the McLaren garage. you do look pretty everyday

So do you, Norris

When her father walked over, she quickly locked her phone. "What do you think of Lando Norris?" He asked as he sat down beside her.

It took her a moment to realise that he was talking to her. Lawrence never went to his youngest daughter to talk about Formula One. Yes, she had been there for most of Lance's career, but what did she know?

"Uh, he's nice," she said quickly. It was so damn hard to act nonchalant about him. Behind closed doors, she was loving him so intensely, but her father couldn't know.

Lawrence leaned forward in his seat, surveying the pitlane in front of them. "We're considering him for the team."

Her heart hammered in her chest. "To be Fernando's teammate?" She asked, gripping the arm of her little chair so tightly.

"To be Lance's teammate."

Fuck, they were going to destroy his career. "Dad, you can't!" She said quickly as she stood up. "He's always gonna drive for McLaren, it would be stupid to even try to offer him a contact. And you know it's just gonna upset Fernando."

She had said it so quickly, Lawrence regarded her with suspicion. He'd looked at her like that once before, when she was a teenager and sneaking that boy in and out of her room. She shrunk under his gaze when she realised he knew that something was going on.

"You're not..."

"No, of course not! Dad, that's a stupid accusation! We're just..."

But the words died on her tongue. Shaking his head, Lawrence settled his hand on her shoulder. "Princess, you're an adult now," he said. "I don't care who you're seeing, as long as you're happy and not being hurt."

She raised her head to look at her dad, her brows furrowed. "So, we don't need to hide?"

He shook his head. Before Lawrence could say anything more, she was gone, running towards the McLaren garage.

[auroralwriting]

his little finger

spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader

part two!!! | part one

spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.

warnings: reader has a hot temper, reader gets injured, innuendos for smut (they did it) | words: 1k again im sorry but i have plans for spence!!

It finally happened. The day everyone had been dreading. Finally, your hot temper got you injured during a case.

You caught a guy, he fit your profile exactly. You knew deep down it was him. He didn't react well to confident women, so Hotch sent you in to interrogate him. You would break him down, reduce him to mere atoms.

"Come on, Charlie," You had your hands on the table, leaning over to him. "We know you killed those women. We have all the evidence right here. Save yourself some jail time and just admit, yeah?"

Charlie kept his eyes trained to the floor, "I didn't kill those women." He stated, voice quiet.

You could see the sweat on his face, the way his foot tapped. "You can't even look at me!" You laughed, "Of course you didn't kill those women. You can't even look at one without almost pissing your pants." You gave Charlie a small tsk, "But I guess that just goes to show you aren't so tough, huh? You couldn't control a situation, not if you wanted to, not even if you tried. You--"

Stars. You saw stars and heard a loud clang. It took you a moment to realize you were on the floor. You felt absolutely nothing for a second, then a searing hot pain in your head. Finally, you looked up to see Charlie had a thick, sharp rock in his hand. He had struck you. The table and chair were on opposite sides of the room, and there was blood on the rock. Your blood. You pushed yourself up to the wall, unable to stand up or speak.

"Yeah? I can't control a situation?" Charlie taunted, "Guess you got your fucking profile wrong, you little bitch!"

The door was busted open, Hotch and Derek running in. Derek got the guy under his control as Rossi and Spencer ran in.

"Hey, hey," Hotch kneeled beside you. "Come on, let's stand." You felt his arms under you, lifting you up.

Spencer was quick to take one side of you, helping you out of the room. "Hey, sweetheat, it's alright," You heard Spencer say. "You're okay now. Come on, say something!"

The genius refused to leave your side, even as the paramedics came into the room. One went to touch your head, but you flinched away harshly, grabbing his arm. "Don't you dare touch me," You hissed. It was the first thing you'd said.

Your team watch in shock, surprised you refused help. Spencer was quick to jump in, recognizing you were in flight or fight mode. "Honey, he's just trying to help you," Spencer softly explained. "He's gonna help your head,"

"It won't hurt?" Your voice turned soft, nearly a whine due to the pain.

Spencer shook his head, "It won't hurt. I'll hold your hand the whole time, okay?" After a slight hesitation, you nodded. Spencer laced his fingers with your own, letting you lean on him for support as he rambled about random statistics to help occupy your mind.

Hotch instructed that Spencer was to take you back to the hotel for the rest of the night to rest. He drove you there, allowing you to pick the music and temperature for the car. The whole time, you held his hand.

Once you got back to your room, he helped you in. He was kind enough to help you take off your jacket and slip off your shoes. After he was done, he turned around, ready to leave.

"No," You called, pulling him back with your hand that you had in his. "I want you to stay."

Spencer was quick to turn back around, "Of course, yeah, I'll stay." He slipped off his own shoes and sat next to you on your bed.

"I shouldn't have been so harsh," You muttered. "I got myself hurt."

"Hey, no," Spencer shook his head. "That guy would've hurt someone no matter what. He was ready. You didn't get yourself hurt, okay? It was all his fault. You were doing your job, one you're damn good at."

You felt your eyes water. "I'm too mean, too quick to anger." You muttered as Spencer took his hand, gently pulling your head onto his shoulder. "I wish I wasn't."

"I don't," Spencer responded, voice soft. "I, uh, love you just the way you are."

Finally someone said it.

You didn't even respond in words, you just pulled his face to yours and pressed your lips together. Spencer took no time in reciprocating, kissing you back with a firey force. You'd both been waiting for this for so, so long.

"I love you too," You breathlessly responded as you pulled back. Spencer didn't let you have another moment as he pulled you back to his lips, chasing the gratifying feeling it gave him to finally be kissing you. "Spence, air," You gasped, pulling back.

"You can last three to five minutes without air," Spencer mumbled, pressing kisses to your lips as he spoke. "I think you'll be okay for a few more."

Even while practically making out with you, you loved that Spencer couldn't help but use his big brain to ramble off some facts. "Thought you had to go back,"

"They'll be fine without me," You giggled at Spencer's response.

After a half hour, Spencer's phone began to buzz. It was Derek. Spencer, half undressed, rolled over to look at his phone. "Who is it?" You asked.

"Morgan," Spencer said. He hit the decline button, leaning back over to you when it buzzed again. He let out a frustrated groan and picked up the phone. "What, Morgan? I'm busy."

You could hear Derek from how close you were to Spencer. "Busy? Doing what?" He paused, "Oh, doing who- Wait a minute--"

Quickly, Spencer hung up the phone. "I think he got the point." Spencer smiled as he silenced his phone. He turned back to you, caressing your cheek. "Where were we?"

Back at the station, Derek's jaw was slung open. "Guys, you aren't gonna believe this." He turned back around to the team who stared at him curiously, wondering where their genius went. "They're having sex, Reid and L/n."

"No way!" Emily laughed, "Now?"

"Hotch did send them to the hotel," JJ smiled.

With a shrug, Hotch held out his hand. "Today is day four. Pay up,"

"You!" Rossi pointed his finger at Hotch. He slowly began to pull out his wallet. "You sent them back on purpose!"

"She was hurt," Hotch held back a smile. "I would do no such thing, especially on a case."

Derek rolled his eyes, "Case's over. Right after we detained the guy again, he admitted to it. You just wanted to win this." Derek slapped a crisp twenty in Hotch's hand, along with the rest of the team. "I guess I'll let Garcia know she owes you."

Hotch smiled to himself, "I'm always right."

[sturnioz]

⌗︙— seven minutes in heaven with fratboy!chris !

☆ everyone knows the basic rules of seven minutes in heaven; someone spins the bottle and whoever it lands on, the two go into a vacant closet for seven minutes and do whatever they want — preferably make-out or, for the frat boys, get a blowie or a handjob.

☆ fratboy!chris does not follow by these rules. at all. he makes up his own rules and nobody would dare to stop him.

☆ fratboy!chris is up next to spin the bottle — the other frat boys are cheering for him, clapping his back with sluggish grins. and the girls have their fingers crossed hidden between their legs, desperate to be picked.

☆ he spins the bottle fast, and it lands on some girl he's seen maybe once or twice; wearing a tight fitted top and a short skirt, her tits perky and ass round.

☆ fratboy!chris doesn't know her that well, and he doesn't want to know her — but she's definitely pretty, and she's excitingly getting up from the floor to go spend her rightfully earned seven minutes in heaven moment with him until

☆ ❝nah, i wan' her.❞

☆ you're in the middle of a discussion with a friend when you notice that everyone is looking at you — why is everyone looking at you?

☆ your other friend harshly elbows you in the side to grab your attention, causing you to almost spill the red solo cup in your hand. when she gets your attention, she nodding in the opposite side of the room, giving you the reason why everyone is staring at you.

☆ fratboy!chris is staring at you and pointing with a grin, despite the bottle on the floor pointing in another direction.

☆ he speaks again, ❝i wan' her.❞

☆ the pretty girl that was chosen is glaring evils at you from across the room, and you swallow thickly and avoid her eyes, staring up at fratboy!chris who is already making his way towards you.

☆ his fingers wrap around your bicep, hauling you up from your place with ease, causing you to almost trip over yourself if it wasn't for his hold.

☆ one of his frat brothers wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he reaches for the little closet door on the left, twisting the handle and opening it up for the two of you to go inside.

☆ but fratboy!chris has other plans; ❝we're goin' to my room.❞

☆ you are going where?

☆ you want to disappear immediately after seeing the looks people share around you. you want the ground to open up and swallow you whole — this is so embarrassing.

☆ you're not even playing the stupid little game. you were just an innocent bystander sitting in the corner of the room with your friends, vibing to the music with your drinks and conversating over different topics.

☆ the room is deathly quiet when fratboy!chris tugs you away by your arm, leading you out of the main toom and to his bedroom, not even allowing you to gather your thoughts as he's already pushing you down on his bed and crawling above you.

☆ his lips are hot on your neck, his hips pressed to yours.

☆ ❝i,❞ kiss ❝missed,❞ kiss ❝you.❞

☆ you gulp nervously, ❝you can't make up your own rules like this... this shouldn't be allowed!❞

☆ fratboy!chris chuckles against your neck, his breath fanning across your skin as he positions himself between your legs comfortably.

☆ ❝why the fuck would i go in a closet with some random girl?❞ he asks, his teeth nibbling down on your skin, creating small indents on the surface. ❝while my girlfriend is right here lookin' beautiful in the dress that i fucked her in last night, huh?❞

© sturnioz

[embraceweird]

I keep imagining Andrew as a little league coach to the most ferocious pack of little girls

Imagine a little 7 year old, chubby cheeks, missing tooth, two poofs of hair sticking out struggling to get the last strap of her glove fastened so Andrew comes over to help her out. As a thank you she picks a little flower and hands it to him. Andrew keeps that flower tucked behind his ear the rest of the day.

Or a bunch of 10 year olds decided that his black arm bands are boring so they conspire to get him a new pair that they all draw on themselves so he has something pretty to wear. Every time Andrew looks down at his arms he's reminded of their care and kindness.

Or middle school aged girls who ruthlessly go to bat for him whenever some random parent tries to use Andrew's sorted past as an excuse why he shouldn't be allowed to coach children.

Or Andrew being clued into all the hot gossip the team spills because they trust and value his opinions.

A group of girls who give no mercy and are hell on the exy court because they have the best mentor. Not only do they have excellent skills but they are by far the most coherent team.

Andrew being able to guide, lead, and support kids in ways he never received. Andrew being the coolest coach anyone could have ever asked for. Andrew Minyard, the only person who can truly understand and foster the feral nature of little girls.

[delulujuls]

healing sessions | aegon II targaryen

hi, it's been a hot minute since i posted here, the last weeks were pretty intense for me and since i have a summer break now, i would like to start writing again and do it more regularly.

this is something new here and since new episode of hotd dropped, im in my westeros era, so please prepare for something other than my last shots (i will still write for f1, don't worry)

and lemme set this straight, im team black till the day i die but those green bastards are FINE AS HELL lmao. also @alicenthightcwer is author of those gifts

summary: aegon isn't dealing well with his father loss, but gladly there is someone who's gonna do her best to lift his spirit a bit

warnings: it's fluff without basically any plot, sister x brother romance so targaryens at their finest, mentions of death, depression, alcohol, drugs

pairing: sister!reader x aegon targaryen

The news of King Viserys's death did not surprise the residents of King's Landing. Nonetheless, the loss of the kind ruler dealt a painful blow to the city, which seemed to freeze in time with the king's passing. The capital plunged into mourning, and in addition to the banners, black flags were hoisted. Westeros was left without a king.

Viserys's successor, his second child and first son, Aegon Targaryen, had not been seen since the king's funeral. Aegon had lost not just a king but, most importantly, a father who, unfortunately for him, named him the future ruler on his deathbed.

Aegon would have gladly given the throne to Rhaenyra, his older half-sister. He would have done it without hesitation, even placing the crown on her head himself. Unfortunately, his mother Alicent, who was with her dying husband and heard his wish to elevate their eldest son to the throne, decided to fulfill her beloved husband's last wish at any cost.

To be honest, Aegon couldn't care less about being king. The young prince had not left his bed for several days, thick curtains blocking any light from outside. Occasionally, servants were allowed into his chambers, but only with wine and poppy milk. Aegon did not eat, allowed no one near him, and slept. Sleep was his salvation. Even the prostitutes, who once outnumbered the rats in the castle, were no longer summoned. The fiery prince had dimmed.

Alicent knew she needed to give her son time to grieve. She didn't bother him, only inquiring about his condition from the servants who managed to enter his chambers. It was enough for her to know that he was alive. Aegon's siblings dealt with their grief in their own ways, and his condition hardly impressed anyone. Except for Y/N, who, despite her own pain, worried about her brother. Sitting at breakfast, she silently observed Aegon's chair, which remained empty. After her husband's death, Alicent decreed that all meals, not just dinners, be taken together. The firstborn had not appeared at any of them since.

After a silent breakfast punctuated by brief, formal conversations, Y/N stood up and grabbed a plate, filling it with Aegon's favorite croissants and a portion of strawberries. She was done pretending nothing was wrong. This had to end.

"You shouldn't go to him," Alicent said quietly as the servants began clearing the table. "You know him, he'll come out when he's ready."

"Or he'll drink himself to death first," she replied, not even glancing at her mother. Alicent clasped her hands and pressed them to her lips, watching her family fall apart without knowing how to stop it.

Y/N left the dining room and went to Aegon's chambers. She knocked first, wanting to maintain decorum, but knowing it was futile, she grabbed the handle and pushed the heavy door open. Inside was darkness. Only a nearly spent candle by the bed gave off any light; the room looked like a cave. She blindly set the plate on a table, and with arms outstretched, she made her way to the windows. With a swift motion, she drew the curtains, and even she was blinded by the sudden light that flooded in. Not hearing any curses from her brother, Y/N looked over her shoulder. On the large bed, a figure lay curled up, back to her. From the waist down, he was covered with a sheet that blended with his pale skin. White hair in disarray touched the crumpled pillow. Aegon was either in a deep sleep or dead.

Y/N opened the curtains at every window, flinging some open. The room was stuffy, reeking of stale alcohol, sweat, and the sweet scent of poppy milk. She circled the bed, crouching opposite her brother. He was indeed asleep, but his breathing was shallow. His lips were cracked, stained with dried blood. His eyelashes were matted with tears, and dark circles marred his eyes. There was a bruise under his left eye that was different from the ones under his eyes, as it began to fade and turn from purple to green. Y/N remembered her mother, who had been rubbing her hand while sitting at the table for several days. She could only guess that Alicent was trying to shake her son off in her own way.

Aegon slept, lying on his side and hugging himself, seeking comfort only he could provide. Y/N brushed the tangled strands from his forehead and kissed him. Aegon did not stir.

The princess knew he wouldn't allow servants to tend to him. She left the room quietly, asking the maids to prepare a hot bath quickly and silently. Y/N returned and sat beside him on the bed, gently stroking his head.

Aegon wasn't the bad person many thought him to be. True, he was unique, and in a room full of people, he was impossible to ignore, but no one is born evil. Now, Aegon was simply engulfed in darkness from which he couldn't free himself. The slender, sticky fingers of depression had tightened around his throat, allowing only alcohol to pass.

After some time, a maid stood by the bed, whispering that the bath was ready, nervously glancing at the sleeping prince, afraid of waking him up. Y/N thanked and dismissed her, then leaned in and kissed her brother's forehead again.

"Aegon..." she began softly, close to his ear. "Wake up, I have strawberries for you."

He furrowed his brow, feeling her hair tickle his face. At first, he thought it was a dream or a drunken hallucination, but when he felt the urge to sneeze, he wiped his face with his hand. When he opened his heavy eyelids and saw how bright it was, he pulled the pillow over his head.

"I said no one was to come in," he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I'll have you killed for this."

"It's nice to see you too, considering I haven't seen you in over a week," she replied, sitting back on his bed and placing the breakfast she brought on the table beside him.

Hearing the familiar voice and wanting to ensure it wasn't a drunken hallucination, Aegon removed the pillow from his face, clutching it to his chest. From squinted eyes, his violet gaze spotted a well-known figure.

"Y/N?" he asked hoarsely, his voice betraying that he'd only spoken to chase away servants in the past days.

"Yes, it's me," she nodded. "And if you still want to kill me, you'll have to get out of bed, which I doubt you can do."

Aegon sighed, more of a grunt of dissatisfaction. He wanted to cover his face with the pillow again, but his sister took it and easily pulled it from his arms.

"Did you come here just to make my life more miserable?" he groaned, looking at her with displeasure.

"I came to stop what you thought was the best solution," Y/N explained. "I brought you breakfast and a hot bath."

"I don't want breakfast or a bath," Aegon replied, turning onto his other side. "And you can leave. Tell mother I'm not dead yet."

"I'm not leaving until you get out of bed," she informed him, staring at his back.

"Then enjoy your stay," he muttered, closing his eyes again.

Y/N sighed. She knew it might be hard, but in a few days, she had almost forgotten her brother's character. And Aegon's character was sometimes the textbook definition of a Targaryen.

"I came here because I want to help you," Y/N began, feeling a lump in her throat. "No one talks to each other, and when they do, it's just some fucking formalities. Aemond flies on Vhagar every day, Helaena spends hours in the garden with her books, Rhaenyra has been on Dragonstone since the funeral, mother is banging with Cole at every turn, and I don't even know if you're alive," she said in one breath, feeling tears prickling her eyes. Only when she said it all out loud did she realize what was happening. It wasn't just about informing Aegon; it was about making herself understand. The truth hurt her even more than she expected.

Hearing his sister's trembling and upset voice, Aegon sighed and turned onto his back, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Only now could his sister see his full appearance. It was the image of a boy deep in mourning and struggling with unimaginable pain.

For a moment, they exchanged looks in silence until Aegon glanced at the nightstand beside his bed.

"Did you bring strawberries?"

She reached for the plate and placed it on the bed next to her brother. Aegon weakly lifted his hand and took one, eating it whole, including the stem.

"Croissants with filling?" he asked, chewing. Y/N nodded again.

"Nut and chocolate," she answered. Aegon silently took a croissant and slowly began to eat.

Y/N quickly wiped her cheeks as two single tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. The young prince looked at his sister, who also seemed different than he remembered from a few days ago. Her hair was still neatly combed, with a few small braids woven into it. The dark red dress, which he thought he had seen her wear before, now seemed to hang a bit loosely on her shoulders and wrinkle at the stomach. The color of the dress reminded him of the bloody cuticles around her nails, which she must have bitten out of nerves. Her face, still beautiful, was now paler than usual, almost as white as her hair. Her swollen eyes lacked their usual sparkle, and her lips seemed to have completely forgotten what a smile was.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after a moment when he had finished eating. Y/N pushed the plate closer to him, and as he reached for another croissant, she only shrugged.

"I'm sad. And I sleep poorly," she replied, staring out the window.

"You know, poppy milk—", "I won't drink it," she interrupted him.

Aegon raised his hands in a defensive gesture, taking another bite of the croissant.

"And you?" she asked, looking at him. "How are you feeling?"

He also shrugged.

"I don't even know. Now I think I feel nothing," he said, looking back at her. "Most of the time I feel nothing, except when a wave of sadness hits, and then I cry like a child until I fall asleep again."

Y/N nodded silently. She could tell that Aegon had spent many hours crying.

He put the last piece of croissant in his mouth and reached for a strawberry, handing it to his sister. She took it and ate it, nodding with appreciation.

"Not bad, right?" Aegon said, seeing her reaction. "Unusually sweet for this time of year."

Y/N let out an involuntary snort, lowering her head. Their father was dead, the country was without a king, the family was falling apart, and this idiot was talking about how great the strawberries were.

"They really are good, I don't know what you mean," he replied, taking the last strawberry and popping it into his mouth. The girl smiled, for the first time in a long while, then looked at her brother.

"I miss you, you know?"

"I'm not dead yet," he said sarcastically, rubbing his face with his hands. Y/N set the plate aside, and Aegon extended his arm toward her, silently inviting a hug. The girl shook her head and stood up.

"Maybe I miss you, but not enough to hug you after so many days without a bath," she replied, nodding her head towards the bathroom.

"You've got to be kidding," he snorted, but she shook her head again and pointed to the bathroom. Aegon sighed and slid off the bed, looking at her reproachfully the entire time. When he stood, the sheet slipped off completely, and he, naked and unbothered, walked unsteadily toward the bathroom. Y/N asked the servants to change his bedding and clean the room while she locked herself in the bathroom with him. As he sat in the water, she perched on the edge of the tub, rolling up the sleeves of her dress.

She reached for the nearby comb and slowly began to untangle his matted hair. They both remained silent, as words were completely unnecessary at that moment. After a while, she put the comb down and picked up the sponge, wetting it and pouring water over his hair. Aegon closed his eyes and tilted his head forward.

Y/N grabbed the soap and lathered it in her hands, adding a few drops of lavender oil. Aegon smiled as the familiar, pleasant scent filled the air, while she began to wash his hair. He sat there with his eyes closed, allowing his sister to take care of him. Aegon felt that of everyone in the family, only Y/N truly cared about him. Despite being the second youngest sibling, just after Helaena, he had always gotten along best with her. They were almost inseparable, always sitting together at feasts, stuffing sweets into their pockets to eat later in the garden when they managed to escape the table. Rhaenyra, their half-sister, was always the oldest and most composed. Aemond, younger than Aegon, was calm and collected but could stab a knife into someone’s neck without blinking if provoked. Helaena lived in her own world, surrounded by books, flowers, and maesters who had tried to help her ever since they noticed something was off with the growing princess. Aegon was often irreformable, acting and speaking first and thinking later. When he was younger, he was incredibly unruly, the mastermind behind every wild idea that Y/N almost always eagerly supported. The young princess loved her brother, who always tried to make her smile. Aegon loved his sister and knew that of all the people in the castle, she was the only one he would kill for and die for either.

Young prince winced quietly when Y/N, massaging his tense shoulders, ran her thumb over a particularly tight muscle.

"You're as hard as a rock," she said, continuing to massage his back. Aegon smiled to himself.

"Not quite yet," he joked.

She rolled her eyes and soaked the sponge again, rinsing the soap off his back with warm water. As she got up to stoke the fire, Aegon submerged himself in the water, washing the soap off himself and his hair. After a moment, he sat up straight and wiped his face off, leaning on the sides of the tub. He silently watched his sister, whose silhouette was highlighted by the flickering fire in the fireplace. Her white, slightly wavy hair cascaded down her back. The young prince smiled and bit his lip. Blood of my blood.

When Y/N finished tending to the fire, she stood up and dusted off her hands. She looked up, feeling her brother's gaze on her. He watched her in silence.

"Care to join?" he asked, glancing at the tub before looking back at her.

She shook her head, stepping closer and looking at the murky water. "I think I'll pass this time."

Aegon extended his hand toward her, and she gave him hers, which he pressed to his lips, planting a wet kiss on her skin. She smiled at his gesture.

"I'll go dismiss the servants," she said, stroking his cheek. "Make sure you wash away all the sadness."

The princess left the bathroom and returned to the chambers. They looked much better now, with two servants finishing changing the bed linens. When they were done, she thanked and dismissed them. She approached the large wardrobe, looking for clean clothes for her brother. She planned to get him outside for a walk, even if just a short one.

She placed the clothes on a chair and sat on the bed, running her hand over the freshly made bedding. Shortly after, Aegon emerged from the bathroom, not bothering to cover himself with even a towel.

When he stood in the doorway, Y/N involuntarily looked up at him. She looked him up and down, causing Aegon to smile.

"Like what you see?" he asked, approaching the bed without taking his eyes off her.

"I'm just checking if you washed yourself properly," she retorted, lifting her head to meet his gaze when he stood right in front of her.

Aegon still wore a faint smile as he cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. His pale skin had gained a bit of color from the hot bath, but he had goosebumps from the cool, fresh breeze coming through the windows. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, but his gaze was now clear and certain, darkening as he was looking at his sister.

"I missed you too," he said after a moment of silence, during which they exchanged looks. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. "Make love with me."

It wasn't a command or even a request. It was a quiet murmur filled with desperation, almost sounding like a plea. Aegon needed to feel her warmth, needed to feel something other than the alcoholic breath of death that placed cold kisses on him.

She silently stood from the bed, and before he could say anything, she touched his cheek and kissed him. Aegon wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, returning the kiss. Blindly, he started to fumble with the ties of her dress, but seeing his struggle, she began undressing herself. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her tenderly. When she loosened her corset, Aegon grabbed the bottom of her gown and quickly pulled it over her head, tossing it aside. She shivered at the sudden chill but soon felt Aegon's warm body against her skin. He smiled into her mouth.

"You're so soft," he whispered between kisses, holding her tightly as if he wanted to lock her inside his ribcage. "Go on, lie down."

She obeyed, positioning herself comfortably on a pile of pillows. Aegon hovered over her, kissing her gently. Their hands tangled in each other's hair, touching and grasping every bit of skin they could reach. Lips swollen from kissing released soft sighs and moans mixed with tender words.

Aegon could be gentle, delicate, and caring. He wasn't like this with the whores he sometimes brought to his chambers to relieve himself and kill boredom. But he loved his sister dearly and would never harm her.

The young prince couldn't remember the first time his sister came to his chambers and stayed the night. It was probably before their father's illness. One autumn, Aegon caught a terrible cold. He couldn't sleep at night, and his cough kept the entire western wing of the castle awake. One night, a sleepy Y/N went to his room, silently took the nearby laying ointment, sat on his hips, and began rubbing it on his chest. Aegon, feverish, thought he was hallucinating. But when he woke up the next morning and saw his naked sister asleep in his bed, he knew the events of the previous night hadn't been a fever dream.

Now, too, Aegon had to think twice if the soft body in his arms was really there or just a trick of his drunken mind.

"Are you real?" he whispered, pulling away from her lips and looking at her face.

"You'll have to find out for yourself," Y/N replied just as softly.

Aegon smiled involuntarily and hurriedly disappeared between her thighs.

At dinner, not only Aegon's chair was empty. The chair next to his, Y/N's, was also vacant.

Aemond glanced sideways at his sister, who tried to hide her smile behind her hair. Otto looked at her as well, then at her mother.

"Helaena?" Alicent spoke, looking at the blushing face of her daughter. "Is something wrong?"

"Aegon is feeling much better," she said. The young princess knew this first because the garden she particularly liked was just below her brother's chambers, and the windows, this time, were wide open.

[potofsoup]

Happy July 4th, everyone, and good luck to the UK voters out there!

Wow it's Year 11 of doing these!! Here's the AO3 link to the past 10 years, and here's the tumblr link.

Reminder that this is a long game -- some of the judges making decisions were appointed back in the 80s. Many of the cases that were decided this round were from Trump's term. So it's going to take long-term, consistent voting over a decade to start tipping things in the other direction. (Which I talked about in 2018 re: Trump shenanigans and 2022 re: Dobbs).

A lot has been done by the Biden administration (I'm assuming most folks have seen this post by boreal-sea with their very helpful sources), and much of that will be overturned by Trump, especially if he gets the Senate, and especially now that he would have a blank check for anything "official". So let's make sure that doesn't happen.

And even if Trump does get elected, your decisions down-ballot might effect control of the House or Senate, or might make it easier to vote next time, plus the whole plethora of state and local issues. It's Republican state attorney generals who are challenging climate regulations, for example.

Plus, when you really get down to it, only one of the candidates plans on pardoning himself and all his friends if he wins, and attacking the government if he loses. Maybe that guy shouldn't be the President.

If you're new to voting, remember to check voter registration deadlines! I'm a permanent vote-by-mail voter and it's so nice. :)

Transcript under the readmore

Page 1: Sam and Bucky meet up with Steve for a picnic. Steve: Thought you guys were still in Sudan? Bucky: I’m forcing Sam to take a break.

Sam collapses onto the picnic blanket. Sam: Oof, it just never stops, does it? Steve: Nope.

Bucky hands Sam an orange popsicle. Bucky: Eat and relax for a bit, Sam. Sam: Thanks.

Page 2: Bucky asks Steve: How are things state-side? Steve responds: HORRIBLE. Bucky: I thought you’ve been tentatively hopeful about what Biden has been able to achieve? Steve: I was! Student loans, child care, climate regulations, infrastructure, labor, trans rights … he’s quietly done a lot through regulatory improvements and congress bills. But now all people will talk about is how he’s OLD. And then there’s the Supreme Court’s decisions … Chevron and immunity… Steve puts his head in his hands, while Sam and Bucky look on with some concern.

Page 3: Bucky hands Steve a blue/raspberry popsicle: Steve, take a deep breath, and a popsicle. Sam: Sounds like we missed a lot. What’s going on? How bad is it? Steve: Pretty bad. The Supreme Court has made some decisions that give the Court and the President A LOT of discretionary power. Sam: Yikes, that doesn’t sound good. Steve: Well, the Chevron thing means that judges with life-term appointments can override policies made by government agencies. And now it’ll be harder to hold a President accountable because he will have immunity for any “official” actions.

Page 4: Sam: So if the President tries to, say, overturn a democratic election result, he’ll be allowed to as long as it’s in his job description? Steve: I don’t think threatening state electors is “official” business, but that will be decided by federal judges. Who get their jobs by approval from both the President and the Senate. Bucky: Yeesh. No wonder you’re stressed. Any good news? Steve: Well, thanks the Biden and the razor-thin Senate majority, the newer bills don’t rely on the Chevron deference. Still not great but not catastrophic. Sam, squirting ketchup on his hot dog: So what I’m hearing is that it’s now more important than ever to have a President and a Senate who you can trust to appoint fair judges, pass bills, and not commit crimes.

Page 5: Steve: Plus all of the state level offices, now that more and more deciding power has been thrown back to the states — abortion, LGBTQ rights, voting access… Bucky: Hey, at least this is a big election year so we can actually do something! Steve, with his arms crossed, looking surly: Except that all people want to talk about is how Biden is “too old” and “not doing enough,” as if that is on par with Trump’s desire to dismantle basic rights! As if the candidate who doesn’t embody ALL their ideals is not worth voting for! Bucky interrupts with a smart and a loud “PFFT.”

Page 6: Bucky: Um, Steve. YOU were like that in 1940. Sam, nudging Bucky: “Oh, this I gotta hear. Spill, Barnes.” In sepia, Steve is pacing around their apartment while Bucky is sitting and reading a newspaper. Steve: I can’t believe he’s running for a 3rd term! we need a fresh candidate to vote for! This is hardly a choice at all! AND he refuses to engage in Europe! All of Europe under fascist control and we’re just twiddling our thumbs? He’s letting millions die through his inaction! Bucky: Most people don’t want another war, Steve. If he came out for it, he would lose. Steve, indignant: But Buck, it’s your Polish relative who are in danger! Bucky, closing his newspaper and looking at Steve: Yeah, and between FDR and Willkes, I trust FDR to help if he could.

Page 7: Steve, in sepia, looking away: Should he be encouraged to do more? Maybe I should vote for Browder. The Communists have historically be Anti-Fascist.

Sam interrupts off-screen: Waitaminute! STEVE was going to PROTEST-VOTE? Steve: We were in a Blue State, Sam! Sam: But what about the down ballot races?! Steve: RELAX, I did my due diligence down-ballot. I wanted a senate that’s more progressive than the President.Voted LaGuardia for Mayor, too. Steve hesitates: Then, when I got to the President… I realized that the Best case scenario would be that my vote did nothing, versus if it actually spoiled the election. And when I asked myself who I could trust to work with my Senator… well, FDR had a good record with Labor. (sepia shot of young Steve voting) Bucky interrupts: Hold on, Steve.

Page 8: Bucky, eating a cookie, arching an eyebrow: You didn’t vote for Browder? Why didn’t you tell me? Steve: And have you say “I told you so” for the next century? Bucky: Heh.

Steve, with hand on his chin: What’s weird was that, despite everything, I still felt HORRIBLE when I ticked that box. Sam: Sounds like you built up the meaning of that vote far too much in your head. Logically, we know that a single box can’t represent all of the complexity of a whole system, but the desperately WANT it to. Just look at how people have built up so much around the term “Zionis” that it’s made productive conversations difficult.

Page 9: Sam and Steve speak in the background while Bucky reaches into the cooler and pulls out a box. Steve: Sigh. And that’s something that goes beyond the election. Sam: Which is why we need to vote, AND do other things. Bucky, looking at Steve and Sam: Like how Steve works to push organizations on the local level? Or like all the work you do as Captain America? Sam: Exactly. Vote AND.

Sam looks at Bucky fondly: Like how you vote AND make me and Steve take breaks. Bucky, looking stern because he can’t handle compliments: Shush, Sam.

Bucky holds up a cake that has the number “107” on it: It’s time for cake. Happy Birthday, Steve.

[dumbbitchgalore]

Part 2: Just thinking about old man Price with an erectile dysfunction 💕

Continuation of this

Period hormones cause me to become horny by the weridest shit

Head bobbing up and down as her precum-mixed salivia dribbled down his cock, down his balls and onto the lust-stained bedsheets. He tries his hardest to not give away any signs of pleasure or satisfaction, it'll only rile her up more and cause her to do more work in fulfilling his contentment. He didn't want that. He shouldn't want that. His cherished angel shouldn't have to please him, that is not her job.

John was a man who reveled in the pleasing her and making her cum over and over again. Her cum-drunk expression was a vice he made sure to indulge in, soaking in the portrait of orgasmic gratification on her face as she is rendered speechless. Her breathy pants and soft sighs brought a salacious glimmer to his eyes. Oh his oh so perfect sweetheart.

She takes him all the way to the hilt of his soft cock, gagging slighty. She breathes through her nose to let an sliver of oxgyen to her brain, allowing her to think about how to best to make her love feel the appreciated. At the sound of her slight keck, John tries to push her head away from him. But his darling protests, moving his hand away before it can tangle into her hair and pull her off his cock. She whines. There is no way in hell John is going to stop her from doing what she wants to do and right now she wants to shower his dick with all the love in the world.

She suck his tip before letting go with a 'pop' noise.

"Please let me do this. I wanna make you feel good like how you make me feel good all the time. I want this, John." She mutter softly, nuzzling her cheek against his stupid, fat cock.

Before he can protest, she gives his head a few kitten licks. John gasps, choking back a moan that threaten to escape his mouth. Pressing soft, sweet kissess all over his limp dick, she giggles softly to herself. God, she loved this. Loved him, loved worshipping ever single part of him no matter how well it works. Her love deserves to feel good.

She moans softly as she licks and sucks the tip. She fondales with his balls enjoying how they feel in her hand. Her jaw begins to tire as she suckles his dick. Her eyes glossy, submerged with ecstacy as she looks up at him through her lashes.

John looks down at her. Fuck, she's hot. Hot and hardworking. He feels bad but knows that he can't stop his girl from persuing her ministrations so he lets her continue, no longer protesting.

He throws his head back, covering his eyes with the back of his forearm. He groans softly, singing her praise like the choir of a church caroling wholeheartedly. Shit, this feels good, too good.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He thinks to himself.

A familiar feeling returns, one that he hasn't felt in a long time. His insides coil up, threatening to snap at a moment's notice. She feels it too. His leaky cock on the tip of her tongue, salty yet sureal. She savours the taste as her work comes to fruition.

Snap.

A gutteral moan leaves his mouth as he arches his back. The unknown feel of release washing over his aching body as John's back slightly arches. She feels into too. It invades her mouth, unexpected but welcoming. She moans softly, not caring about the bitter, pungent taste. She did it, she can't believe she actually did it.

Coming down from cloud 9, John looks down at her. She still has her pretty, plump lips wrapped around his head confused as to what happened. Hell, he's surprised too.

She lets go of his cock, her mouth empty as the only thing remains is the remnants of his cum on her tongue. His still limp cock rests against his abdomen, glittering in the leftovers of his orgasm. Her eye's glimmer in wonderment as if she's opened the Pandora Box.

Panting softly, she looks up at him as she wipes her lips. She chuckles softly, giddy with excitement.

"You liar. I thought you said that I couldn't make you come."

(What the hell did I write? lol)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

[alchemistc]

both your hands in the holes of my sweater

It starts innocently enough. There's a chill in the air, a crisp and cool morning where neither of them have anything in particular to do, and when Evan plates up two decadent looking omelettes and suggests they eat them out on Tommy's patio Tommy can't think of a single reason why they shouldn't. The pergola is actually fully built, now, wisteria just beginning to creep across the lattice, the Adirondack chairs that have been sitting at the fence line for six months have been sprayed down and placed catty corner to the table with a built in fire pit Tommy had spent months staring at before allowing himself the indulgent purchase.

They're outside for five minutes before Tommy notices how tight Evan's arms are to his body as he eats, how the hair on his arms is standing on end.

Tommy gives it five minutes.

Evan is pretending not to shiver by the time Tommy decides Evan is officially more stubborn than he is. He'd come just off work, in a tight tee and jeans, and it's been hot as shit for weeks and he'd stopped bringing an overnight bag basically immediately when Tommy cleared out a drawer for him, so he doesn't have a jacket here.

"Evan," Tommy admonishes, after Evan's teeth clack together. "The omelettes are amazing, please go grab a jacket before you vibrate right off your seat."

He looks like he might protest, but after a careful moment where Tommy stares him down, he nods, stands - gives in and rubs his hands over his forearms as he books it back through the sliding glass door. Tommy spends the time waiting scrolling the same website he'd gotten what Evan has dubbed his "old-man robe" - he gets all the way through to choosing a cornflower blue one for his cart before Evan returns, snug as hell in one of the cardigans Tommy hasn't pulled from the back of his closet in at least a few years.

And there's something to that, actually. Tommy's dated around plenty - still remembers the way his first girlfriend had blushed beet red the first time he hooked her by her elbow to drop his letterman over her shoulders and how he'd wondered if there was something broken in him that seeing his name sprawled across her back didn't do shit for him. Still remembers the first guy who'd wrinkled his nose at Tommy's Carhartt and flannel, always half a step from dragging him into some high end shop for something Tommy absolutely knew they didn't carry with shoulders wide enough to fit him. Remembers the only other guy he'd dated who came close to matching him for size, and how he'd owned a grand total of three jackets that were tailored at the waist in a way that would have made it impossible for Tommy to close them.

So it's a first - Evan's style is changing, muteable, seems to hinge on his mood and his plans and the position of the stars in the night sky, but Tommy's never seen him in a cardigan. Give him some glasses and a collar under that shirt and...

Evan catches him staring and his grin goes wide, tongue pressing against the backs of his teeth in a way that promises at least one of them is getting a blowjob after breakfast.

---

Tommy winces against the sting as the tequila warms his throat and actually does a double take when Lucy wolf-whistles right in his ear. An hour ago, Tommy had been nursing his one beer and waiting for the text from Evan that he was leaving the firehouse, but a rollover on the 401 had run his shift long and somewhere between Evan's profuse apologies and Donato sidling up to him with a pool cue he'd agreed to shots. Date night was a wash, anyway, and Evan had seemed happy with the idea of meeting Tommy and his coworkers at the bar, and Donato was sneaky about her shots.

Tommy's - warm. Glad he'd ordered them both burgers once he got a text that Evan was on his way. Tommy is absolutely not going to make a fool of himself when he catches sight of Evan and feels the hinge of his jaw go loose.

Evan grins at him and waves at Lucy as he slides into Tommy's space. "Hi," he says, and Tommy knows he's a fucking dork but he's usually a smooth dork. Tommy's fingers drift over the pocket of his fucking flannel, dart over the rolled up shirtsleeves and the bulge of muscle stretching the seams at the shoulders and - "Nice shirts, Buckley," Donato snarks, already sliding a tequila shot past Tommy.

He's wearing one of Tommy's Henley's underneath, too. The fucker.

Evan looks a little bashful as he admits that he'd maybe gone a little too dressy for date night, and Tommy's place was closer.

Tommy knows for a fact Evan has a whole drawer of casual wear at Tommy's, but he doesn't call him on it, because this is doing something for him.

Their waitress is dropping off their burgers at the table in the corner, and Donato has already wandered off, so Tommy snags one of Evan's belt loops to tug him in, to press his lips to the bow of Evan's lip, to inhale Evan's pleased sigh. "If you catch up to me in drinks before we finish those burgers I might be convinced to let Donato mack on you again."

Evan swats his ass as he dances away, but Tommy can hear him adding a beer to Tommy's tab as he makes his way back to the pool tables.

---

Donato spends a month calling Evan "Tommy Too" around the station and Tommy's too smitten to care when half the crew picks it up.

It makes the next time Evan runs into the 217 on a call a little awkward, but Evan takes it in stride.

"No offense to the whole carpenter mechanic vibe you have going, but it's not even my style," Evan tells him, in the midst of explaining that he can't actually explain why he's constantly pilfering Tommy's shirts, jackets, and on one memorable occasion a pair of grey sweats that hadn't even made it past the bedroom door.

"It's - you can just say blue collar, Evan." The whole conversation had started when Tommy realized he was missing four different flannels and one of his tan jackets to boot. "It's fine, just - maybe stop hoarding them at your place, please? I'm running out of clothes to wear."

"We could go shopping," Evan says, with a gleam in his eye, and Tommy thinks of the party supplies debacle last month.

"No. Never again. You're a goddamn tyrant." He eases the words with a nudge of his shoulder against Evan's, and Evan grins back. He'd been mulish as hell about which balloons to get and what type of tape was allowed, and it had worked Tommy up so much they'd barely gotten through the door before Tommy was crowding him against a side table and reaching for his zipper.

One day they're gonna have an argument about trans fats in the freezer aisle of Ralph's and Tommy's gonna get a nationwide ban for public indecency.

Evan blinks away an expression before Tommy can parse it, but even though this is his first real foray into dating a clothes stealing fiend, he's heard the women in his life talk about the sentiment enough to sort of have an idea what it's all about. He takes a shot in the dark. "You can have one thing at your place at all times. Rotate them out if you want, but for the love of god don't make me go to work naked."

Evan's blink is a little less focused this time, which is absolutely Tommy's bad.

---

He doesn't really get it, is the thing. Until he does.

---

He's sulking. Tommy is absolutely sulking and he has no one to blame but himself.

"A whole wide world of fluke accidents and cursed injuries and you sprained your ankle on a basketball court," Eddie says, and they share a quick smirk between themselves at the memory of the last time they'd been to this particular urgent care.

He's got Evan's Jeep, and when Eddie gets him up into the back seat Tommy can feel the edges of his eyes getting heavy. It feels like barely a second has passed before Eddie's popping into the drivers seat

"These are good drugs," Tommy says, and then tosses the bag the pill bottle is in into the passenger seat. "Take them with you."

Eddie glances at him askance in the rearview, and Tommy's pretty sure he mumbles something vaguely coherent about addiction being a fucking genetic gift, but he's distracted by the shot of emerald green tucked into the back of the passenger seat pocket.

It smells like Evan, is the first thing he notices as he yanks it loose, and Eddie is most likely chuckling about Tommy pressing it to his face but there could also be a funny street sign. They'd gone to that brewery up in San Luis Obispo and when they'd left for the day trip it'd been chilly, but by the time they got there it'd been scorching.

Tommy spends a good ten minutes trying to figure out if he can separate the sandalwood body wash from the vanilla and vetiver cologne and then loses that train of thought when Eddie checks in. He's forced to remove the hoodie from his face with something vaguely approaching embarrassment, but Eddie just laughs. "You two are something else," he murmurs, and - it's a sentiment that's been repeated a million different times with a million different facial expressions but from Eddie, here in the quiet comfort of the Jeep, with NPR turned down low even though Eddie complains about it every fucking time he hops in to find Evan listening to it - here, it feels important.

That's probably the good drugs talking.

"I'm gonna marry that man," Tommy blurts, and Eddie doesn't do anything crazy like slam on the breaks or whip his head around. What he does do is catch Tommy's eye in the rearview and take stock of Tommy trying to stuff himself into the hoodie without unbuckling his seatbelt. He's probably gonna regret that, when the drugs wear off.

"He know that?" Eddie asks, and the edge he'd maybe expected is missing from Eddie's voice. He sounds - pleased, maybe. Knowing.

"I thought we had a hard rule about relationship talk."

Eddie hums. "You started it."

And he did, at that. Tommy isn't subtle at all about tipping his head to the side to nose at the hood of the sweatshirt. God, it's like rolling into Evan's pillow after he'd left for work.

"We've talked about it." He's aiming for casual, and it sucks that his vision isn't the best right now because he can't quite read the tilt of Eddie's brow.

Eddie makes it clear, though - a long, low whistle. "Kinda early for 'til death do us part."

"I woulda married him a month in, if he'd asked," Tommy admits, and - that's something he hadn't really planned to admit even if it's the truest thing he's ever said.

Eddie snorts. "A month after you ditched him halfway through a date?"

Tommy narrows his eyes. Tips his chin against the warming metal of the zipper where it rests against his chest. "There were extenuating circumstances."

"Like?"

"Like I was already way too invested and I didn't realize he didn't even know he was into men until I kissed him."

Eddie stews over that for the next however many blocks. Tommy tucks his thumbs into the sleeves of the hoodie and strokes them over the still downy-soft fleece lining the inside of the jacket.

"So what's the protocol with two dudes, anyway? You gotta ask each other's parents if they're cool with their sons no longer living in sin?"

Tommy snorts. "Your religious trauma is showing, jackass." He flicks a look at Eddie. "Besides, Phillip Buckley fucking loves me."

Evan had been more surprised by that than Tommy. Tommy's got a way - with fathers, with white collar men in their fifties and sixties, with - well he's got a way. They either secretly wanna fuck him or secretly wanna be him and Tommy knows how to lean into that. Without making it weird.

The rest of the drive is quiet. Eddie seems to be processing, though what, Tommy can only assume. He's got no clue what Evan tells Eddie about the two of them, unless Evan has mentioned it himself.

When he pulls into the drive, Evan's already pushing out the front door with a hand on his hip. He stills when he catches sight of the no doubt haphazardly thrown on jacket Tommy's wearing, and - yeah. Yep. He gets it now.

"I'm staying for dinner," Eddie says, with a finger aimed at Evan's face. "You get that look off your face."

Evan gestures, splutters. He's doing absolutely nothing to help Eddie guide him up the walk.

Five minutes later, when Tommy's settled in the couch with his leg elevated, Evan sends Eddie to the kitchen and spends a ridiculous amount of time fluffing pillows and gentling his hands over Tommy's legs - the good and the bad one.

Tommy's expecting a kiss, but all he actually gets when Evan draws near is an annoyed groan and a punched out sigh. "After Eddie leaves I'm gonna spend an hour telling you all the different shades of green in your eyes I've never noticed before."

Tommy grins dopily. Tugs at the hem of Evan's sweater - an old, old cable knit Tommy's surprised even fits the breadth of his shoulders when Tommy hasn't worn it since the aughts. "Eddie said no dirty talk," he admonishes, and Evan's grin as he drops his lips towards Tommy's is bright enough to power a city grid.

[sanarsi]

Bitter

older boyfriend!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You came to make his break more pleasant. Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (not specified), old man!Joel, contractor!Joel, there is an introduction to smut, Joel is a big strong man so he can lift reader Wordcount: 0,8k An: This is a part of 24 hour writing challenge by @iamasaddie I promised myself that I wouldn't write anything except unfinished projects, but I saw this moodboard and this challenge and I just HAD TO (but 1k words is definitely not enough for my dirty mind)

A cloud of dust rose behind the car as you sped down the final stretch. The house that stood at the very end was finally starting to look like a house and not like a haunted ruin. All thanks to the man who was standing in the middle of the yard, watching out for anyone who had blown into these backroads.

A wide smile spread across your face as you turned down the radio and pulled up nearby. You looked out the window, sliding your sunglasses down and smiling even wider when you saw Joel in just his jeans.

“What’s up, cowboy?” you shouted, to which he snorted and shook his head in amusement.

You turned off the engine and grabbed a case of drinks. You jumped out of the jeep and slowly approached the man whose chest was shining with sweat more than the Texas sun.

You wrinkled your nose looking up at him and allowed yourself to admire the wrinkles by his eyes for a moment.

“Shouldn't be at work now?” he asked as if he wanted to scold you for it. You just shrugged innocently and moved closer to him and his arms wrapped around your waist without hesitation.

“I’m on a break,” you replied, your gaze sliding down to his lips and chest. “And from what I can see, you could use one too.” You locked eyes with him again as a smirk crept across his lips. You knew that expression too well to believe in his pure intentions as his face approached yours.

“Yeah?” he asked in that damned tone that sent butterflies through your stomach.

“Yeah,” you nodded before his nose brushed against yours. He was playing dirty and he knew it from the moment your gaze fell on his bare chest.

Oh yes, he knew what he was doing to your young mind.

“I don’t know,” he smacked his lips in disbelief, “I have to build ya a house.”

You swallowed hard, feeling your pulse quicken and Joel felt it too; the way your breath bounced off his lips and your body grew warmer from the sun that hitting his back.

Even after all this time, he couldn’t fight the pride he felt when you reacted like this to his closeness.

“But I see ya brought me some drinks, that's so kin—”

“You know what, old man?” you interrupted him, so he fell silent, watching those little fires in your eyes that he adored so much.

“Know what?” he asked trying to hide his amusement. He loved teasing you and even more so the way you looked at him then.

“I have twenty minutes and the house a little more,” you noticed and he didn't even try to hide his amused smile.

“Okay, so here’s the deal.”

You raised a curious eyebrow and allowed yourself to run your hand over his arm. The hard muscles under the hot skin only inflamed your thoughts more than allowed to focus on his words.

“I'll make you in ten,” he whispered with that unholy look of his, catching your attention. “And then you'll put some cream on me ‘cause I burned my back a little.”

You blinked twice before you could understand the meaning of the last sentence.

“Joel, I told yo—”

“In ten minutes,” he interrupted you before you could get fired up with anger. “You can yell at me all you want.”

You fell silent, thinking about his words but it was hard when he looked at you with those big, shiny, brown eyes.

Fucking Joel Miller and his eyes like a wounded deer.

“Damn you,” you cursed under your breath, knowing there was no point in fighting him, because when he wanted to make you, there was little that could stop him.

“I knew we’d understand each other,” he said smugly, taking the case of drink from your hand. You didn’t even have time to blink as he leaned down and lifted you up with his other hand.

You hugged him tightly as he started walking towards the house, leaving the drink on the table with the construction plans on the way.

“Your back,” you noted, a hint of concern managing to reach his ears. He just smiled, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, and stepped onto the porch.

“You massage like a pro, so I guess you can let me treat you like a princess from time to time.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the warmth his words brought. “Yeah, bu—”

“Shh,” he interrupted you, reaching for the doorknob. “In ten minutes,” he repeated, looking at you until you finally gave in, sighing heavily. “Good girl.”

Without waiting any longer, you buried your fingers in his hair and pressed a hard kiss to his lips. You melted into the taste of him, allowing yourself a moment of oblivion as the door slammed shut behind you.

[holybibly]

How do you think cockwarming with Mingi would go ><

Better late than never, so this is my belated Happy Birthday to Mingi.

You're spending a cosy evening in the Ateez dorm, learning how to take your boyfriend's huge cock again after he's been away on a world tour for months.

"Mingi...I-I-...too big...you're too big..." You whimper pitifully, pressing harder against your boyfriend's big, hot body. "I can't...I can't..." You wriggle a little in his lap, trying to help yourself push his huge cock deeper into your pussy. Your hips are shaking with the tension, and you bury your face in Mingi's neck, tangling your fingers in his long blonde hair as the thick, swollen head of his cock is all the way inside of you. The massive girth painfully stretches the delicate edges of your hole, and you hiss at the slight burning sensation as you feel Mingi's whole body tense beneath you as a few more inches of his hard length end up inside. You can tell that he's struggling to keep his composure, trying to keep himself from don't giving in to his passion and entering you in one swift thrust, immediately reaches your cervix and pushes the tight walls of your cunt apart. But he remains motionless beneath you, allowing you to take him in at your own pace. "Mingi... please..."

Somehow, taking Mingi's cock always proves to be a Herculean effort for you, no matter how many times you've done it before. But tonight it seemed like an impossible task as the months without sex while Mingi was on a world tour had definitely taken its toll on you. His cock practically tore you in half as it tried to settle into the moist warmth of your body.

To be honest, you hadn't really expected anything sexual to happen between you tonight when he had asked you to come to his dormitory. Mingi usually preferred to fuck at your place so you could enjoy each other to the fullest without any restraints. The walls in his flat that he shared with San and Seonghwa were thinner than paper, and you, well, you were loud, very loud, and Mingi hated it when you were reticent; he wanted to fuck your head off without thinking that anyone could hear you. 

So when he pulled you onto his lap halfway through your cosy film night and asked you to warm his cock, you were quite surprised. And just like that, the film was forgotten, and you found yourself with Mingi's cock halfway in your pussy, right in the middle of their living room, where Hwa or San could see how your cunt stretched around their friend's thick girth at any time. 

"Come on, doll, I know you can do it." Mingi sultrily purrs in your soft skin, pressing his plump, kissable lips against the curve of your shoulder. "I know you can take my whole cock in your tiny, tight cunt, baby girl. So be a good girl and stop complaining; you're not even half way there yet." You can hear a hint of arrogance in his husky, deep voice as Mingi's big hands descend to your plump, juicy arse. His fingers are digging into the soft flesh as he spreads your cheeks apart, just so that you can have an easier time getting on his huge cock. He's right, you haven't even taken half of the length of it yet, but even now you can already feel the bulge of his cock against your belly. 

"Ahha-ah..." A long moan bursts from you as you feel the protruding, swollen veins on his cock dragging along your tender walls and how more tightly your hole stretches around him. The invasion is scalding, but at the same time you can't help but feel the intoxicating, rich pleasure that rolls over you like a wave as a few more inches slip into you. "Too big... Fuck you and your stupid, giant, fat cock, Song Mingi." You whine, biting the skin of his neck a little harder than you're supposed to, leaving your red mark. You know you shouldn't, but it doesn't bother you at all right now, especially when you feel the rhythmic pulsation of his length between the quivering walls of your pussy. 

"Look at your sassy mouth; maybe next time I should warm my cock down your throat so you remember how to speak beautifully to me? You seem to have forgotten the last time you couldn't breathe because my stupid, giant, fat cock was fucking your gullet." He said as he let go of one of your buttocks and put his hand around your throat instead, causing you to catch your breath for a moment. "Don't pretend that you don't like all of this; I can feel how your slutty little cunt is sucking me in." Mingi moans deeply as you lower yourself further onto him, almost reaching the base. "Oh fuck, Dolly, just a bit more..." His hand tightens around your throat, making your head fuzzy and light and your wet, slippery pussy throb gently, doubling yours and Mingi's pleasure. 

"Ah, god..." Your squeal is muffled by Mingi's rough grip on your neck as the head of his cock hits your G-spot several times before pushing deeper into the hot tightness of your cervix. Your eyes roll up in pure, scalding pleasure as you finally sit fully on his cock, your clit pressed tightly against the moist, smooth skin of his pubic. You're literally on the verge of orgasm, and you know that even the slightest movement could throw you off the edge, but knowing Mingi, you're sure that even if you cum a few times in a row, you'll stay on his cock for as long as he wants you to. 

"That's it, Dolly; you're so good at it." He finally lets go of your arse completely, only to bring his other hand to your stomach, where the large bulge of his cock protrudes through your thin skin. The added pressure makes you moan and squirm, your silky walls clenching around Mingi's length, and he hisses like a cat, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Dolly, I can't believe I've lived without this for months." Mingi mumbles and pulls you to him for a kiss. He grasps your lips roughly with his own, then immediately deepens the kiss and pushes his tongue into your soft, pliable mouth. The kiss is hot and wet, with too much need and lust—you two have missed each other too much to make things pretty, and besides, Mingi devoutly believes that good sex is dirty sex. He wraps his big hands around your face and continues to devour your mouth until you are both panting for breath. "I've missed you, doll, fuck, I've missed my beautiful girl so much." He growls, lifting his thick, juicy hips sharply to emphasise his point, somehow penetrating even deeper into you, and you let out a scream at the sensation. God, he's practically reconfigured your insides with his cock. 

Your whole body feels like it's energised, on the edge of sensation, drowning in pleasure from the soles of your feet to your head. Your pussy is literally leaking, your mucus so much that it's seeping over the edges where Mingi enters you, your cheeks flushed and glistening with saliva smeared all over them. You feel so full; your cunt is full to the brim with your fucking gorgeous boyfriend's cock. 

"It feels so good…" You gasp as tears of pleasure begin to gather at the corners of your eyes. You find it almost impossible to breathe from how full you are now, so you cling to Mingi for comfort, pitiful sobs gurgling in your throat as you move your hips slightly to get more comfortable on his cock. You can both clearly hear a new stream of thick mucus flowing from your cunt as you do so.

"That's it baby, you have done so well for me. You have taken all of my cock like a good girl. There's no need for any more movement, just sit there and…" He moans as he feels the tension in your pussy, the silky walls clenching and unclenching in a rhythmic way around his massive length. "And keep me warm, just be my doll and sit there nice and pretty on my cock." You nod weakly, barely able to hear the words he is saying. Your world has been narrowed down to nothing more than Mingi's huge cock inside of you and his hand gently stroking down your back.

"Mingi, Mingi, Mingi…" You let out a breath and repeat his name like a prayer, like the name of a god who could put an end to your suffering and yet prolong your pleasure as only he could. You wiggle your hips weakly again, chasing your own pleasure and becoming more aroused than you can possibly be. "Please…"

Your boyfriend gives you a smug smile and reaches over to give you a gentle kiss. He could taste the red wine on your lips that you'd indulged yourself with tonight while watching a film, mixed with your natural taste that was so unique that it made him feel a little dizzy. Fuck, he was head over heels for you; if you asked him to marry you right now, he wouldn't hesitate.

"You're so damn delicious, Dolly." He murmured as he ran his hands over the bare skin of your thighs. You shifted again, pushing your hips apart a bit more, feeling him sink deeper into you in ways you'd never imagined. As much as he wanted to stay in this position a little longer, just sitting there, warming his cock in the moist warmth of your silky cunt, he knew that even the strongest man in the world wouldn't stand a chance against your huge, tear-filled eyes, with which you stare at him now. "C'mon, doll, do what you want." You immediately start moving, sliding your pussy up and down your boyfriend's huge, thick length, and you get the impression that you can feel Mingi with every cell of your body, which you immediately tell him.

"My God, I can feel you all over..." Your words make him moan lewdly—the sound is pure porn, and you're sure there are many fans who can get off just listening to Mingi moan without even touching themselves. For some reason, memories of the day Mingi fucked you in his studio while you listened to demo versions of his new tracks pop into your head. But all your thoughts melt away as soon as his big hand slides down your thigh, the sharp edges of his rings digging into your skin as you continue to chase your pleasure. The heavy knot of pleasure inside you tightens with every second. The way his cock rubs against you in the most delicious way with every thrust makes your breath catch and your thighs shake. 

Mingi pressed his hand to your belly again, where the skin was distorted by the bulging of his cock, making you gasp loudly at it. 

"Can you feel it, doll? I'm right here. I am fucking that pretty little pussy of yours, so deep you can feel me in your belly. Do you think you might be able to get pregnant if I cum inside of you right now?" His words were enough to make you come so hard. Your whole body is shaking with shivers, and you are writhing in an attempt to relive your orgasm. You cling to Mingi's shoulders with your fingers and bury your face in his neck to muffle your disgustingly loud moans. But it doesn't help much. 

The euphoria of orgasm runs through your body like electric shocks, flooding your senses and taking you away from anything but pure, unfiltered pleasure. Mingi can feel his lower body being covered in the wetness of your squirting pussy, and it's enough to send him over the edge. 

He growls wildly, grabs your hips with both hands, and starts to thrust into you at an animal speed, causing you to squeal and start to whimper as you try to bring your legs together from the over stimulation. You've barely had time to recover from your previous orgasm when you feel the hot wave of pleasure wash over your body once more. Your pussy is squeezing him with such force that Mingi can barely move; the slippery mucus walls are contracting and spraying fluid in profusion with each of Mingi's thrusts. 

He gives another powerful thrust deep into your pussy until the head of his cock enters your cervix. You literally lose touch with reality when your second orgasm hits you—sharp and all-consuming. You can barely hear Mingi's deep moan as he comes inside you, coating your insides with his viscous, milky cum, over the noise of blood in your ears and your own hoarse breathing. 

"You've done so well, doll." He whispered as he kissed your temple. "You are always such a good girl for me. I'm so proud of you, babe." You glowed at his praise; after the sexual glow that had been shimmering within, you seemed to pour straight from your skin as you left lingering kisses on his neck, feeling under your lips as Mingi's pulse slowly returned to normal after he had experienced an orgasm. Your eyes began to close in exhaustion. Mingi had literally fucked you so well that you felt completely boneless and exhausted. 

"Let's get you into bed." Mingi said, getting up from the couch. He picked you up lightly, still holding you on his cock, and you whimpered again as he moved inside you a little bit, stimulating your supersensitive walls. 

"Too much..." You sobbed as you wrapped your arms around his neck even more tightly as Mingi carefully carried you into his bedroom. 

"I know, doll, but haven't you missed me enough to be able to bear with me for just a little while longer?" And with those words, you were aware that your movie night was only at the beginning. 

[echstacy00]

watermelon sugar; CHARLIE MAYHEW

"fuck," the curse tumbled from your lips on a sob the word seeming to back right back off the walls of the house of prayer you found yourself in, back arching from your arched position in the wooden chair as you tried to push at charlie's head, palm pressing into his forehead. his strong arms were wrapped around your thighs, one hand against your lower tummy- pressing down in order to hold you back down and it was driving you insane. you couldn't move away from his mouth, from the constant pressure he was applying to your already oversensitive clit. "char- father, please, s'too much."

you'd lost count of how many times he'd made you cum, how long he'd been buried between your thighs, mentally cursing yourself for not questioning his mention of a penance earlier. the church hallways completely silent and peaceful. it was a good thing it was practically in the middle of the night because the sounds- the sinful sounds charlie had been pulling from you definitely shouldn't fall on others ears. it felt like it had been hours since he'd pressed you back into the lounger and settled between your legs, mid-length modest-like skirt discarded elsewhere onto the floor, his tongue finding home on his favourite spot. when charlie went down on you, he often forgot to come back up. convincing you this was a way to rejuvenate and purify you’re innocence, it was ironic since you knew good and well it was the opposite.

he got lost in the way you tasted, in the noises he could get you to make, in the way your legs shook around his head and your back arched off whichever surface he'd set you on. he was obsessed with how sweet you were and how just a few teasing flicks of his tongue could have you dripping down his chin, obsessed with the way your head dropped back giving him more exposure to your neck, your view being met directly with the sliver crucifix hanging from the wall, something so sick he seemed to enjoy. he was even more obsessed with the quiet whine that always slipped from your lips on the first press of his tongue into your leaking hole. it drove him crazy to hear the soft gasp of his name when his nose bumped your clit and he just had to hear it again. and again.

"father-," that was the gasp, the soft hiccup and hitch of your breath as you shook your head, gripped the edge of the wooden seat so tight you were afraid the side might pierce your skin. from between your thighs dark eyes met yours, tongue flat to lick up the entire length of you before he sucked your clit between soft lips. your entire body shook, still so sensitive from coming only seconds before and being allowed no time to recover. "it- it hurts."

charlie made a sound low in the back of his throat, tongue soft over your clit as he tried to work you up again. his eyes were a little glazed over, slightly unfocused with lust and you knew he'd gone into that headspace. the one that meant he wasn't going to let up on eating you out until you uttered that one meaningful word. he kissed at your clit before dipping his tongue into you, pressing it so deep your mind went foggy.

"you're okay, sweetheart, just gimme one more. for me,, yeah? one more f’me" he reassured, you whimpered at his words, felt your pussy gush and spasm at how hot he looked like this. he was so fucked out, barely registering anything around him besides getting you to cum again, getting to taste even more of you than before. when he shifted his chin glistened with your release, lips wet and sticky and it made your tummy tighten, hips wiggling beneath his large palms.

"but-"

"shh, one more i promise my dear." charlie pressed you a little harder into the lounger, dipped his head again and kissed around your pussy, nuzzled into you until you were whining at how messy he was being how dirty. your clit throbbed when he teased over it, pussy over sensitive and just bordering on sore, hole fluttering around nothing because he was yet to press his fingers or cock into you. he'd made you cum countless times with his tongue alone, something you knew he'd pride himself on when he finally pulled himself out of this state if it wasn’t a sin.

"y'said that after the last one."

"m'sorry, baby, just taste so good. one more, please, just one." charlie was begging, actually begging, his voice whinier than normal and you'd be lying if you said it didn't have you gushing a little more. he pressed your thighs a little further open to give him more access and kissed the supple skin the sting pained you in the best way, nipped hard enough to leave behind marks before going back to your pussy.

"you can give me one more, yeah?"

you were nodding before you could even register his words, head falling back once more as charlie gazed a little unseeing at the space between your thighs. he used his thumbs to spread you open a little more, kissed your clit just once before pulling his head back again. there was a few seconds of silence, of anticipating what he was going to do next and your breath caught in your throat when you felt his spit drip from your clit down your pussy, making a mess of you and the lounger beneath you.

charlie's mouth was back on you immediately, licking and sucking, being overly messy and noisy as he groaned into your swollen flesh. your legs started to shake almost straight away, the knot in your tummy tightening when he focused all his attention on your clit. you gripped at his head to keep you grounded as moans and cries slipped from your lips, tears gathering in your eyes at the constant overstimulation.

he got lost again in your taste and your voice. he let his eyes close, moaned around your clit as he sucked it back between his lips and in the back of your head you knew it wouldn't be only one more.

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