#i already have crystals that i lick but this one would have... flavor.....

[souplovingwerewolf]

I want one of these SO BAD so that I could lick it. I feel like being able to lick a glowing crystal orb would be a beneficial experience for me.

[highqueenofelfhame]

rowaelin // 5.4k words // masterlist

If there was anything that Aelin loved in the world, it was sweets. Evidently it was so profound that Rowan had already picked up on it in the few weeks they had been talking. From late morning into the early hours of the afternoon, he’d taken her around downtown Varese and showed her all of his favorite spots. 

Just like he knew her affinity for all things sugar related, Aelin knew that he didn’t like to indulge in heaven on earth. When he led her into four different bakeries and sweet shops it was the best kind of surprise. He may not eat them himself, but he had clearly thought about her sweet tooth when mentally mapping out their day together. 

By the time he drove her back to her apartment, not only did she have bags full of decorations to add to her new home, but several boxes of various sizes filled with everything from cake slices to truffles. There was a specialty candy shop where she had bought three pounds of candy for her desk at work, all of them a rainbow of colors and flavors wrapped in crystal clear paper. The boxes of chocolates would be placed into her fridge to avoid any melting. She would pick through those one by one and add her absolute favorites to a note in her phone for future purchases.

Saying goodbye was bittersweet, the way the dark chocolate truffles had been as they melted to nothing in her mouth. Rowan had to be awake early the next day and she had a thick file folder she needed to sift through to finish finalizing a presentation. Despite how badly neither of them wanted it to be over, the short window of time they had was closing. 

While they both hoped to reunite the following weekend there was a solid chance of it not happening. Rowan had to go out of town Friday night and wouldn’t be back until Sunday morning. He offered to make the drive for the afternoon anyway, but it felt silly. With travel came exhaustion, and even though Aelin had no qualms about staying curled up on a couch with him, it just didn’t make sense. 

Still, they hoped, and spent a little too-long leaning against her apartment building and sharing kisses between Rowan saying, “I should go.”

“So go then,” she whispered back against his lips, her own parting to tug on his bottom lip.

“You’re going to kill me if you keep doing that, love.” When he called her that, it did anything but make her want to stop. It sent embers sparking through her blood, flames licking up her thighs and between her legs. The feel of his hands against the sensitive skin of her neck, fingertips dancing over her jaw and sliding into her hair had her feeling like a teenager all over again.

“What if you came upstairs just for a few minutes?” There was no harm in that, right? He could help her carry her things upstairs then leave. Probably. 

“I think we both know that minutes would very quickly turn into hours, and hours would turn into us both falling asleep in your bed.” His words said one thing: that they shouldn’t. The husky, rough tone of his voice, however… That was saying something else. 

“I’m not tired,” she murmured, allowing his fingers to angle her head ever so slightly. Rowan’s lips dragged hot kisses along her jaw and neck, pausing to nip just over her pulse point. Involuntarily, she dropped the bag of sweets she held in her right hand and yanked him closer by the pocket of his jeans. The evidence of his wanting was pressed against her stomach and she moaned. Devilish lips tipped into a grin against her collarbone at the sound. Why did everything he did have to feel so fucking good?

“You would be by the time I was finished with you. I would have you exhausted past the point of being able to say anything but my name.”

“Who the fuck ever told you that you weren’t good at talking to women?” It came out more breathless than she intended it to, and he chuckled darkly against her neck as he made a path with his lips right back to hers. One more searing kiss and he finally pulled away, thumbs making circles over the line of her jaw. A whimper slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it and Rowan kissed her again. Like he couldn’t help it. Like he wanted to do anything but leave. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised with one last peck to the corner of her mouth. It took every ounce of self restraint to let him pull away, taking his body heat with him. Despite the balmy air she felt cold. 

Hoping to the gods that none of her chocolates had received too much damage from their short fall to the concrete, Aelin gathered the bags and watched as Rowan got into his car. A single dimple popped in his left cheek as he threw her a final grin over his shoulder. 

He might have said she would kill him, but it was going to be the opposite. She just knew it. 

~*~

“That’s the worst news,” Aelin grumbled, face morphing into a frown on his phone screen. Her voice filtered through the ear buds he wore while walking toward one of the SUV’s that would charter him and his teammates to the stadium. This weekend he played the Devils in the Wastes. 

“I’m not thrilled about it either.” And he wasn’t. They were going on another two week stretch of not being able to see each other, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t make this weekend work. 

“You really don’t want me to drive down there?” It had been an on-and-off topic of discussion the last few days. Both of them heavily considered it. When it came down to it, it just didn’t make sense. If she did, his flight didn’t get in until Sunday evening. Rowan knew he would be wiped out from the match tonight, and she would be driving two hours to just sleep beside him. Monday morning she had to be at work at 9:30 at the latest, and it just wasn’t worth it to him.

Not that she wasn’t worth it– she was. The cost of those several hours of drive time paired with how tired she would be the next morning because of the commute? That was the part that he couldn’t justify. Once her physical health came into play, he was out. It would be another long week without seeing her, but he would suffer through it if it meant she was well rested and could function normally at work. 

“Of course I want you to, love,” he told her, voice dropping in volume to avoid any of his friends from overhearing. He would never hear the end of it if they did, especially if they got wind of how desperately he wanted to kiss her frown into a smile. It was impossible to do that through a facetime call, but the desire still crested in his chest.  Since when was Rowan Whitethorn such a ball of mush? “But you need to rest.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Besides, the two times we’ve slept together has been some of the best sleep I’ve ever had.” She sunk lower into her pillows, fighting back a yawn. There was a five hour time difference and it was already almost midnight back in Varese.

Rowan took a moment when he got to the car to toss his bag in the back before climbing in. Fenrys slid in next to him, immediately sticking his nose into business where it didn’t belong.

“Is that her?” Fen’s voice must have been picked up easily by the microphone because Aelin’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity. One look in the pup’s direction had him retreating out of Rowan’s bubble with hands up defensively. 

“Tell whoever that was I said hello,” she crooned, knowing by the look on Rowan’s face that he definitely wouldn’t be delivering that message. Another smile broke across her face. Gods above, she was beautiful. 

“Absolutely not. He’ll never leave me alone.”

“Is she talking to me?” Fenrys leaned over again, the top of his golden curls entering the frame of the phone, nearly blocking out Rowan’s entire face. “How the hell did Rowan manage to get a woman as pretty as you? I’m curious.” 

Fenrys wasn’t entirely wrong. How he had someone so blindingly beautiful to call at the end of the day was beyond him. All golden light, soft curves, and sharp wit, she was exactly the kind of woman he’d imagined himself being with. Sometimes he felt out of his mind insane when he thought about how quickly his feelings were growing for her. Like he was in the middle of the ocean, no life raft in sight. But he would gladly drown in it, in her.

Aelin’s laughter pulled him from his thoughts. Fenrys retreated out of frame when Rowan pinched his side sharply, the golden haired man hissing while swatting at Rowan’s hand. The girl that consumed his every thought was still smiling when he scooted over until he was flush against the door. Rowan tilted his phone screen so she could only see his face. “He’s a lot.”

“Is that your assistant couch?” 

“He– yeah. Yeah he’s my assistant.” Next to him, Fen snorted and shook his head but mercifully said nothing. Great. Now he had to deal with that can of worms. 

“I’ll let you go. Drive safe, text me all about the win, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” The win of his high school students. Fighting off a wince, Rowan promised he would before hanging up and stuffing his phone into the pockets of his sweats. The team logo burned against his thigh for the first time in his life. It wasn’t a big deal, doubted she would even care, but the longer he kept the secret the worse it would be when he finally came clean.

“Your assistant couch, aye? She still thinks you coach a high school team?” 

“I don’t want to hear it, Fenrys,” Rowan warned, voice low and promising pain if he pushed too hard. 

“You need to tell her. If you’re not worried–”

“I’m not worried and I don’t want to talk about it.” There was a finality to his tone that prompted Fenrys to nope right on out of that conversation. 

Truthfully, the only person he felt like he could talk it through with was Lorcan. But the towering brute in question was being so cagey about Aelin’s intentions that it wasn’t exactly on the table at the moment. Rowan understood his hesitancy, but they’d barely spoken of the sport. He knew she didn’t know who he was. That she wasn’t trying to wring money out of him the way… 

Rowan shook his head, locking those thoughts in an iron cage in the back of his mind. He would not go there. Not with her.

~*~ 

“How are things going?” Evalin Ashryver Galathynius leaned toward the camera as though she were buckling up to hear all sorts of tea spilled. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a low bun, not a single strand out of place. Her white t-shirt was plain, but Aelin was certain a blazer of some sort was hanging in the office somewhere.

“Really well, I think. The team is amazing so far, I haven’t had any issues. Nobody is pushing deadlines I set or anything like that.” Aelin picked through the dish on her desk, selecting a vibrant green candy that she quickly popped into her mouth. Evalin waited for the plastic paper to stop crinkling before she answered. 

“I didn’t have a single doubt about that. I meant your work life balance. You have a tendency to struggle with it. You always have.” Something about the way her mother spoke had Aelin narrowing her eyes. Evalin’s lips twitched in effort to hide a smile, her fingers fiddling with the pearls that hung from her throat.

“You talked to Aedion, didn’t you,” Aelin asked flatly, lips in a firm line to hide a smile of her own. Vultures, the lot of them. Always so eager to share any shred of gossip where her love life was concerned. 

“Well, I certainly wasn’t hearing it from you!”

“I didn’t even tell him about it!” Aelin cried, throwing her hands in the air as she slumped back into her chair. Still, she grinned. “Lysandra swore she would still keep my secrets after they started dating, but I clearly can’t trust her anymore.”

“Nonsense,” Evalin’s bejeweled hand swiped through the air in dismissal. “Tell me about this young man that you met.” 

A heavy sigh loosed from Aelin’s chest as she turned the candy over in her mouth, the flavor unusual while she thought about Rowan. Where did she even begin? There truly wasn’t even much to report on, and she said as much. “He works a lot, coaches a high school soccer team— oh don’t look at me like that.”

“You secretly love the sport, admit it.” Aelin’s eyes rolled. 

“I loved watching Aedion play, but since he’s out and I have no obligations—”

“Outside of being the daughter and granddaughter to two men that own two different teams,” Evalin interjected, and Aelin winced. Both of her eyes squeezed shut as she covered her face with her hands, her mother’s gasp enough to have her peeking through her fingers. 

“What the hell does he think your last name is?” There were few instances where Evalin cursed, and that this had been deemed appropriate told her it was a bit more major than she had been chalking it up to. 

“He… doesn’t? It hasn’t come up.”  It really hadn’t.  She didn’t know his last name, either. Aelin would get around to it. How often had it been an issue before? She frowned, knowing the answer without having to say it. Over and over men had sought her out as a way to get their way in with her father, hopeful for a lifelong career.  Besides, how do you slide that into a normal conversation anyway? By the way my family is worth billions and I myself am worth millions, please don’t date me for my money. 

“You know I’ve had too many instances of people weaseling their way in to get to Dad, or Papa, or our money.  Not that I think Rowan would, because I don’t. But it wasn’t a first date conversation, and the last few times we’ve been together I genuinely haven’t thought about it.” It was the truth. Aelin didn’t feel like the daughter of a family with more numbers attached to the bank account than she cared to count. She was just, blissfully, Aelin. The same girl she was on holidays, curled up on the couch under blankets with her family around. No public image, staggering bank account. Just her.

“Does he know you founded and run Fireheart?” Aelin peeled her lips back from her teeth in a silly smile that was more of a grimace. Even on the computer camera, she could make out the faint tinge of green that stained her lips. “Gods above, Aelin.” 

“He thinks I teach dance and piano at local studios.” Her words were mumbled and muffled by the hand she’d placed over her mouth. “Which isn’t a lie! I do teach dance and piano. Just not… currently while opening the new office.” 

When she said it out loud, it was so, so, so much worse. The blossoming relationship was already built on a lie. It wasn’t one that really affected anything, but it was still a lie. Even if it was just by omission. 

Evalin opened her mouth to speak, but Aelin opened hers first and let the candy fall from her tongue onto her desk. Instead of whatever she had been about to say, her mom snorted despite her brows knitting together with worry. 

“What?” Aelin asked, using a tissue to toss the candy into the bin beside her. 

“You look a little pale, my love. Are you feeling okay?”

“It’s probably the lighting in here,” she gestured toward the ceiling her mother couldn’t see. The sun had set a while ago, leaving the fluorescent lights to cast an unflattering light over her features through the camera. A mental note was made to do something about light fixtures in here before saying, “I should go. I have a few things to finish up before I head home.” 

“I want to hear more about this man, Aelin. I mean it.” 

“I’ll tell you everything as soon as there’s a development,” she swore, grabbing her water bottle to wash away the odd taste the candy left in her mouth. 

As soon as their goodbyes were said and the call was ended,  Aelin fished through the bowl,  plucked out every green piece within, and dumped them all in the trash. 

~*~

An intensely severe frown pulled her lips down as she sighed and shoved the bowl of pasta she made as far from her as she could manage. Something had smelled just a little wrong while she was cooking, but she managed to wave it off as the scents of dinner mingled with the air fresheners she had plugged into the wall. It appeared that a fridge clean out was in order because the pasta just tasted bad. Aelin wasn’t a chef by any means, but typically the meals she made were better than this. A sour and metallic taste lingered in her mouth despite her desperate attempts to wash it away with water, soda– anything. 

She hadn’t felt well all day. In fact, the golden blonde had appeared peaky enough that several of her staff members inquired about how she was feeling. Even though she didn’t want to, Aelin had ended up leaving for the day a mere three hours after arriving in the office, barely making it through a meeting with her entire staff. When she got home she parked herself on the couch after making a simple pasta with garlic and basil which clearly hadn’t worked out. Neither had dinner the night before — something about the chinese take-out made her violently gag and spit it back into the container. It was now in the trash, a graveyard for everything she’d tried to consume in the last twenty-four hours.

It was easy to decide against eating— she wasn’t really hungry. More than anything she was trying to eat because she needed to. Breakfast was commonly skipped and normally by noon her stomach was rioting to be filled. Now, however, she found herself sinking into the couch and tugging a blanket over her body for warmth. All she wanted to do was sleep. 

Less than five minutes later, a storm of nausea, fatigue, and dizziness overwhelmed her. Aelin’s mouth began to water, a sign that soon bile would be rising up the back of her throat. She stumbled through her apartment, knees slamming onto the tile of her bathroom floor just in time for her to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Tears heated her eyes, pricking at the corners as she hurled and hurled until there was nothing left.

As gross as it felt she rested her forehead against the edge of the seat, willing her stomach and breathing to calm. Chest still heaving in gags that produced nothing, she took several deep breaths through her nose and out through her mouth. It would help in the long run, surely, but the smell of toilet water clung to her nose so much that she could nearly taste it. Drool pooled in her mouth and she quickly spit into the porcelain bowl, wiping the remnants from her mouth with the collar of her shirt. 

 Hours seemed to pass before being able to muster the energy to rise on shaky limbs and head back toward her room. There were no thoughts but to slide between her sheets and pull the duvet over her head, the hope that sleep would cure all her problems.

The nap lasted for so long that when she woke, the sky was darkening. Shades of pink and orange and blue peered between clouds as the sun began to disappear below the horizon. Somehow she had managed to sleep the entire day without waking a single time. 

Aelin patted around the bed in search of her phone, remembering with a low groan that it was still in the living room. Though she didn’t want to move, didn’t want to provoke her weak stomach, she found it in herself to retrieve a bottle of water and her cell before returning to her bed. Steady and full deep breaths kept her from feeling she might be sick again as she typed out a message to Rowan, discarding her phone onto the pillow beside her as she turned on the tv for something to watch. 

Aelin didn’t even make it through the first episode before her body was lulled back into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

~*~ 

Hot water poured over his head, snakes down his body in rivets. Rowan would have been content to stand in the shower for the next few hours if it would ease the aches he felt all over his body.  

Lucky for him, tonight he would take a few extra minutes because they had played Varese tonight and the drive to Aelin’s apartment would be fifteen minutes instead of two hours. Though he had driven down with the team on a charter bus, Rowan would take an Uber to her apartment. Fenrys was going to drive down tomorrow. Sunday afternoon they would return to Doranelle for another week of grueling practice. 

Rowan shut off the water and wrung his hair out before wrapping a towel around his waist and heading to his locker. All around him his teammates shouted back and forth about the game, a few clapping him on his back when he passed. He had played particularly well tonight, leaving his soul out on the field like he did every week. His legs were sore enough to prove it. 

By the time he dressed, bid farewell to everyone, and made his way outside the Uber was waiting. In the safety of the backseat of the car he opened his phone to read the text he’d missed from Aelin during the game. 

I think I food poisoned myself. Entirely bed ridden. Save yourself and don’t come over tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

She followed it up with a heart emoji as if that would make him worry less. Like hell he wasn’t going to go make sure she was okay when he was so close. Even if he had been in Doranelle, or getting off an airplane, he would have driven to make sure she had everything she needed. 

Because of the late hour, nearly eleven at night, traffic was scarce and it was a short trip to her apartment. The contents of his overnight bag hit him in the shoulder repeatedly as he took the steps two at a time. It was irrational to be so worried when she said it was just food poisoning, but he knew of people that had made trips to the hospital over such a thing. Dehydration was a very strong risk if she wasn’t able to keep her fluids down. 

It bothered him just a little bit that he had to knock on the door and potentially wake her up, but the idea of her withering away alone was worse. With a firm knock, he bit the bullet and waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

Rowan knocked harder, unease making his stomach turn until he heard the soft padding of feet across wood floors. Moments later the door was cracked open, a pale and exhausted Aelin peering between the space she had created. It took her a before it registered it was him, and the frown that took up her entire face quickly turned to confusion.

“Hi, baby.”

“I texted you,” she rasped, pausing to clear her throat as she opened the door all the way for him. “Did you not get it?”

“I did, and you’re out of your mind if you really thought I would go back to Doranelle without at least checking on you.” Aelin laughed softly, barely letting him get the door closed before her arms were around his waist. She nuzzled her face against his chest and took a deep breath. Rowan carefully eased his bag to the floor before gathering her up in his arms and carrying her straight back to bed. A low whine escaped her lips when he pulled away, but he promised he would be back in just a minute. 

True to his word, he returned less than a minute later with a full water bottle in hand that he placed on her nightstand. Golden hair fell across her face as she sat up and took a tentative sip, then carefully lowered herself back onto the bed. Aelin was quick to snuggle up against him when he climbed in next to her. Kisses were pressed to her forehead, cheeks, nose, and a soft one to her lips while he brushed her hair out of her face.

“I’m glad you came,” she whispered, eyes already closed, her breathing evening out. 

“Me, too.” 

~*~

Aelin was, literally, sick and fucking tired. Though Rowan had taken amazing care of her, held her hair while she vomited the next day, and ensured she drank enough water to stay hydrated, the food poisoning seemed to linger over the course of the following week. Two days ago she had been feeling absolutely perfect and thought it was over, but the next afternoon half the office heard her throwing up. 

Most of the week she’d been locked away in her office, forcing herself to make it through each work day until it was time to go home. Every night she was getting a full night's sleep– gods, she was getting more sleep than she had in years. But she was just so wholly exhausted right down to her bones that she had little energy for anything else. 

By the time she managed to crawl up the stairs and fall into bed, she was almost asleep before her head even hit the pillow. Twice this week she had woken up in the same clothes she had worn the day before. It was so out of character for her, but she had been really sick, and it did seem to be sticking around. Whatever she caught, her body couldn’t shake. 

It was why she was working from home, her laptop open and papers scattered around her bed. If she was contagious, she wasn’t going to expose her employees more than she already had. Not only could she not have half the office out for a week, but she cared about them too much to risk it. 

On her lunch break she had just made a bowl of chicken noodle soup when her cell rang. She immediately answered, assuming it would be Rowan calling to check up on her. Multiple times a day he would call and ask a laundry list of questions. Her answers never changed between morning, afternoon, and night, but he still asked to satisfy the anxiety he had. It was sweet.

“Hey,” she chirped, determined to sound less miserable than she was.

“How are you doing, babe?” Not Rowan, but Lysandra. 

“Ugh,” she groaned, leaning back onto the pillows and fiddling with the lid of her water bottle. “I’ve been sick all week. It sucks.” 

“Weren’t you sick over the weekend, too?” 

“Mhm. I didn’t know food poisoning lasted for so godsdamn long, but here we are.” In a living nightmare, dying a slow, slow death. Stomach muscles she didn’t know existed ached, her arms and legs felt like limp noodles. The bruises on her knees from kneeling on hard floors all week were probably permanent. 

“That’s because it doesn’t,” Lysandra said, curiosity in her voice. “Are you still throwing up?” 

“Not all the time, but it’s a solid fifty-fifty when I try to eat anything. The rest of the time I’m asleep because I just can’t seem to–” Perfect with the comedic timing, a gigantic yawn interrupted her– “stay awake.”

“Just curious,” the second word was drawn out, the end of it sounding like a snake. “When were you supposed to get your period?”

 Aelin snorted. Hard. Even though Lysandra had posed the question as a joke more than anything else, Aelin still swiped down from the top of her screen to double check what day it was. It wasn’t a possibility– she was on birth control and they had used a condom. Yet when she saw the date, her eyes were glued to the white numbers on the screen. Her silence drew out a little too long. Lysandra said something, maybe her name, but it didn’t quite register. 

“Let me call you back,” she said, throwing the blankets off her legs and scrambling out of bed. The work papers went flying, drifting slowly back to the floor. Even her laptop had been flipped over in the chaos but that didn’t matter. Not with the rising panic in her gut working its way up her throat.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her pajamas before running out of her apartment, down the stairs, and around the corner to the drugstore. 

~*~

Less than half an hour later, Aelin was propping her phone up against the bathroom mirror. The toilet was out of frame, but she felt like she could deal with this whole situation better if Lysandra was with her. It was silly to be so worked up over it, but she was also late. While her period did have a tendency to give or take a few days, sometimes a week, it had never been this late. As much as she could try to chalk it up to a million different things, she wouldn’t know a moment of peace until she was throwing the negative pregnancy test in the trash. 

“It’s going to be okay.” Lysandra was sitting on the couch she shared with Aedion. Thankfully he was at work and couldn’t witness the first pregnancy scare Aelin had dealt with since college. 

She pulled multiple boxes of tests from the paper bag and laid them out. Through the camera, her eyes met Lysandra’s and she had to brace her arms on the counter to keep from falling over. Her legs felt like jello and the nausea was setting in. This time, though, she felt it had less to do with being sick and more to do with anxiety. 

“This is ridiculous,” she mumbled, mostly to herself. “We were careful. I haven’t missed even one day of my birth control. I’m probably late because of work stress.”

“But we have to make sure.” Lysandra’s voice was soft, gentle. Though she knew they would be joking about this as soon as the tests reflected a negative result, right now her best friend was cool, calm, and collected. Everything that Aelin wasn’t. 

With shaking hands she opened the first box, removing both tests from their wrappers. She moved out of frame, the porcelain cold against her skin. It was an effort to control the tremors of her fingers in order to get the little caps off, and then she was forcing all the urine out of her body and onto the wicks of those stupid pieces of plastic. 

“You got more pale,” Lys noted, frowning heavily as soon as Aelin stepped back into frame. 

“Yeah, well,” she mumbled in response, putting the two tests side by side on the counter. “I feel like my entire nervous system is trying to escape my body.”

“Three minutes from now we’ll be laughing this off. It’ll be a fun story to tell Rowan the next time you see him.” Despite herself, Aelin laughed softly but it was swiftly cut off when her eyes glanced down at the tests. 

It hadn’t even been a full minute yet, but a response was staring up at her clear as day. She picked both of them up as ice slid through her entire body. From her head to her toes, everything was cold. Whatever blood pumped through her body had fled, soaked straight to the floor and taken her stomach with it. The shaking in her hands was bad enough that when she turned them toward the camera, it took Lys a second to be able to read it. They made eye contact again, faces mirror images of the other: wide eyes, open mouths, pale skin.

“Holy fuck.”

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp  @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn  @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @secondstartorightand @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme  @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294  @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @punkassbookjockey26 @shyvioletcat

[siberat]

Mukbang Part 5

“Oh, this food sure is filling me up! I can feel myself getting heavier and rounding out much more. *Gropes belly* And it’s getting grumbly. Can you hear my belly crying? I bet it’s still hungry for some of this scrumptious food, wouldn’t you say? *Scans the table*

I think it is time to eat these donuts, don’t you? *Holds dish up to show camera* They are so soft and slathered with rich, decedent icing! Please excuse me; I simply must try a bite. *Eagerly bites a donut*

Hmmmmmmm…. I was correct. This sure hits the spot! It's so sweet, and that cream filling is divine! Gives it a nice zing! But let’s take another question, shall we? *Looks at data pad* Ah, another shy anon. You guys are great, by the way. I may not know who you are, but you ask such fun questions. I don’t mind hiding behind an anonymous identity as long as you aren’t feeling uncomfortable. There’s no need to be. We are amongst friends, right? But anyway, this ask reads: “Oh, you’re looking quite big already; where are the best spots to rub you? Wanna put my hands over that soreness and rub it away.” *Smiles dreamily and polishes off a donut*

I could use a tummy rub right about now! To tell you the truth, I am feeling the ache begin, mostly right here. *Rubs the front and sides of the paunch* The aches started out front but have moved to the sides a bit. I imagine those are from the stretching of my plating. *Shyly smiles before shoving more donut into his mouth* Man, I am getting very round! Where you all planning on telling me how much I blimped out? But I can feel the throb of fullness starting on the insides. And it feels good to have this upper frontal part rubbed. *Playfully pats selected area*

 That would be the best place to have you give me a rub down, huh? But it would be tough to decide. It feels nice having this lower chub groped or even the side flab messaged. Oh my stars, I would love to have a pair of hands rub all over my tummy! *Smiles dreamily as he gropes his own belly*

But enough of me touching myself. *Optics open wide, cheeks flush* Oh my, that sounded so wrong! *Laughs* But it would be heavenly to have belly rubs right about now! I can’t wait for Rat/chet to get off his shift…. Hopefully he’ll give my sore belly a rub!

But these donuts sure hit the spot! *Shows empty plate* It’s a shame they were so small. Can you imagine whole plate-sized donuts? But what shall I try next? How about the cyberfish? *selects said dish* This is salmon, one of my favorite fish dishes. *Licks lips* Its flavor is rich, but it does have a slightly oily profile. This is smoked, so you have that nice smokey yet savory flavor to go with it. And the crystal asparagus… hmm hmmm… goes so good with this dish! *takes a bite* I wish I could share this with you all!

But let’s continue on before I just talk about the food I am pigging out on this entire video. *Shakes his helm and smiles* Here’s a thinker. Alcorian asks: ‘Out of all the planets you’ve visited, where has your favorite place been?’ This one is kind of hard. To tell you the truth, almost all the planets I visited were for business, not pleasure. Sure, I can take moments to enjoy the planet’s beauty, but I mainly focused on accomplishing my task. *Continues to eat dish*

But my favorite would be New Crys/tal City on the planet Theo/phany. Yes, the planet itself is a barren rock land, but you are hit with such beauty upon entering the underground city. *Bites lip* Although I may be biased simply based on this place changing myself for the better.

Wi/ng made me see things in a different light, helping me release all my inner anger and turmoil. *Sighs, feeding himself more food* Wi/ng was a patient teacher. *Shakes helm* And I was such a bastard to him initially! Oh, he would tell me on a daily basis how stubborn I was. At the time, I was so clouded with rage and hate I couldn’t see it. *sighs* But I eventually saw the light. Once I did, my optics were opened to Pri/mus's mystical teachings!

I do not wish to get too religious on you all, but opening my spark to Pri/mus was very…. Hmmm… what’s the word? Uplifting? Releasing? Invigorating? *Face deep in thought* I cannot truly find the words to describe such an enlightened experience, but I could see my path in life much more straightforward. I was able to focus on my problems with more introspection. Gone was blaming others for my situation in this life, and instead, I focused more on what I had control over and how I could change things for the better.

Wi/ng saved me. *Looks sad* And I am forever grateful for his teachings. And how tasty this cyberfish was! *Shows empty plate* But let’s move on. I do not wish to dwell on such a bitter-sweet topic. *sets the empty plate down and selects a plate with two chicken wraps* Now, this food looks so fresh and inviting, wouldn’t you agree? We have some crispy cyber chicken tenders bound in a thin lithium-based wrap. We have some crisp cyber lettuce; of course, it is drenched in yummy ranch dressing! *Smiles* I bet this tastes amazing! *Takes a bite and face lights up with glee*

Oh, I was so correct! It's super delicious! I just love ranch dressing- it’s so creamy and has that tang of buttermilk! I wish I could give you all a bite! But I can give you another ask. We have another Anon send in, reading as follows: ‘As you’ve been talking, I keep getting glances of your pearly fangs. I bet those are really useful for cracking open meals.'

Ah, so you like my chomper’s don’t you? * Opens wide, tracing his fangs with his tongue* They do come in handy at times. Easy to rip meat off bones… can open canned energon as a party trick… and they come in handy when needing to bite things! *Bashfully smiles* Like Ra/tty….*Laughs* Oh, how he yelps when I nip at him, but it’s so fun! Biting has his neck cables really gets a reaction out of him!

But yeah, I don’t mind them, but they tend to give such a fierce presence. *Finishes off one wrap, then grabs the second* Back in the day, I immensely enjoyed the fear they evoked in my enemies. Nothing like flashing my pearly whites and making other mechs go wide opticed in fear. It was easy to intimidate them into giving me what I wanted. *sighs* Plus, it came in handy for siphoning… you know? Kinda easy to pierce energon lines with a set of fangs.

 However, things have changed now. I want people to be at peace with my presence and feel comfortable. Not scared. I’m not flashing the fangs much anymore, but if I give a hearty laugh or am working on eating, mechs get a glimpse. *Takes another large bite* And I hate it when people recoil. I know I’m not the only mech created with chompers like these… anyway. I totally bit my way through these wraps, yeah? *Rolls his optics.* Yeah, I know, that’s corny. But I am so ready to devour this cherry pie. Doesn’t this look tasty? *Picks up the pie*

This is a delicious recipe. I snagged it from Rat/chet. *Looks a bit sheepish* Sadly, I think he is expecting a slice upon coming home. I’ll try to save him some, but you know what it’s like sometimes with good food: Once you start, you simply can’t stop! *Stabs a forkful and eats* Ohmystahs *Swallows* Please pardon my poor manners! But this crystal cherry pie is to die for! So sweet and tangy! But anyway, it's time to move on to another question.

Another anonymous user asks yet another hard question. ‘Do you feel you get treated differently on the Lost Light since you used to be a Decep/ticon?’ To be fair, I feel I get treated differently regardless of where I am. And I cannot fully blame others for feeling that way. I mean, I sure wasn’t a pleasant mech to be around in my earlier years. The violence was a turn-off for sure. *Eats more pie* When I joined the wre/ckers, there were a lot of sideways glances thrown my way. However, I remained focused on my missions and proved loyal to them, so the crew seemed less critical of me over time. *Belches, then covers mouth* Please excuse me! I don’t know where that came from! *stifles more burps* Man, it seems to be freeing up some room, though!

But honestly, there seems to be a lack of trust even long after leaving the Decep/ticons and changing my ways. If you are observant enough, you catch that flinch or moment’s hesitation when mechs interact with me. *Shrugs* Sure, with some, it fades over time. But other’s there always seems to be that shadow of a doubt in the back of their processor.

Take Ult/ra Mag/nus for example. There is a mech who will never forget my criminal record. *Nervously laughs* I swear he analyzes my every movement about this ship, insisting I have hidden intentions or something. But not everyone is like that. *Scoops up more pie* Obviously Rat/chet isn’t, though; he questioned my logic with why I joined the ‘C/ons. And believe it or not, Rodi/mus really hasn’t been all that judgmental either. I mean, yeah, we had a serious talk before leaving Cyb/ertron- at least as serious of a conversation our dear captain can have. And since then, he hasn’t really brought up my past. Sure, he cracks some jokes, and while some aren’t really that funny if you think about it, I can tell there’s no actual malice behind it. *Wipes mouth*

You know who else is pretty chill with it? *Eats another large chunk of pie* Fir/st A/id. He actually never brought it up. At least, not on his own. But that mech is just so sweet- never judges people and always sees the best in things in everything! *Smiles*

But I try to just go about the ship like normal. I cannot hold a grudge against others for their mistrust; I just do my best to prove myself worthy of not being feared and disliked. I’m sure they will see I am no threat… and perhaps they will start to see me in a better light with time. *Smiles as fork scrapes empty plate, then looks shocked*

Oh no! *Looks at empty plate* I ate it all! You guys should have stopped me so my Con/jux could have had a slice! Why did you let me eat the whole pie like such a hog? *shakes helm* But it was just too good to stop! I’m sure he’ll understand. *Licks his lips and sets the empty dish down* But there are still more dishes to taste and more time to chat! *Belly grumbles* I just hope there is enough room left in my tummy to clear this table!

… ……

Still taking on more askes! So, if you have a question for Dr/ift, send it in! You can send multiples. Also, if you wanted to ask as another TF character- just state so! Let’s keep this mukbang going and see if our dear sword/smech can handle all that food infront of him

[reba-ceres]

Tibo

FFXIV Write 2023 Prompt: Check

Summary: Being an adventurer means that Serina has to juggle a lot of things while maintaining a semblance of a life. Of course, some things end up not getting checked on and lead to some… panicked realizations.

NOTE: As part of the FFXIV Write prompts, the idea is to get a story out as fast as possible and embrace the spontaneity of imperfection. When over, some of these stories will be fully edited into shorts, and some not, but for now, they will appear here raw and full of their natural errors. Enjoy!

Perhaps it was too many blows to the head on her many adventures, but Serina couldn’t help that she had forgotten something very important. She had gone to the Last Stand for a comforting latte flavored with lavender and vanilla to sooth her nerves after her latest adventuring foray, but she found herself struggling to remember what it was that she had forgotten to do, despite a very accomplished day.

Taking out her tomb-phone, she scrolled through the timers, looking at the different tasks available to different adventurers. The new free company she had helped found with her wife had failed recently at obtaining property for a house, so that timer was already done. They wouldn’t be able to apply again for five days. Her Duty Roulette was mostly clear, at least for the things that she knew she had the capacity to get done without overextending herself. She had done her recent share of excursions this week to obtain special items to be traded for armor. Not only that, but she had helped the Manderville’s yet again with another round of weapon making.

She set her phone down with a frustrated sigh, taking a slurping sip of the foam atop her latte. From everything she had on her various checklists and tasks, she had done everything she wanted as well as needed to do, and yet that nagging feeling remained. The Elezen turned her thoughts to her side hobbies. She had finished decorating her adoptive fathers new home, so that was no longer on the agenda. She had plans to renovate her own manor in Shirogane, but hadn’t decided what flavor or decor she was going to aim for as of yet. She had formulated a new glamor look for healers that was focused on butterflies. Yet despite all that, she was still confused as to what she still felt like she had to do.

She took a few sips of her latte, licking the foam off her lip. Perhaps she was simply overextending herself, causing the perpetual sensation of needing to do something, even when she was done with what she had set out to do for the day and at rest.

Her tomb-phone dinged with a notification, and she picked it up to see what had popped up on her screen.

It was a message from her petite wife, Alena Ena, with a selfie of her holding her pet black cat, whom she had named Shinoa after the adorable kitten that had followed the Goblin leader of the Illuminati around.

“Just because she made the fight difficult doesn’t mean she had a bad name,” Alena had commented a year ago after adopting the tiny kitten. “I like to think that by naming her after that cat, I give that name a new fate.”

Back to the message, Alena had also included a message. “So good to be home! Shinoa really missed me!”

Serina felt her face go pale. That was what she was forgetting! Tibo!

What felt like a long time ago, Alena got Serina one of the domesticated red pandas that were so popular in Garlemauld. He had been one of her constant companions aside from her wife, and went with her almost everywhere. However, for the last few days, Serina had been busy with dungeon runs, loot hunting, and trying to get a tiny free company off of the ground.

And in all that time, Tibo had been home alone, with no one to check on him! Usually, he would have been kept at the same house as Shinoa, but Serina had been in such a hurry that she had left him at her manor in Shirogane.

Gulping down the last of her latte, she took off, leaving a tip on the table and rushing for the aether crystal. She was going to have a very grumpy and very hungry red panda on her hands!

[keigelsss]

A Super Sweet Secret - Gojo Satoru

Merry late Christmas ya filthy animals ;)

Mega thirst moment based on this post and I think it just fits this fucker so well. I wrote part of this at 3am and I hate it so much ... fellow Gojo fuckers come get ya food.

Warnings: 18+, my shitty writing, language, mentions of alcohol, Gojo using infinity (had to do it on em), smut, DIRTY TALK, fingering, oral *fem receiving, overstim, squirting, uh… the pet names are super self-indulgent too oops, literally every grammatical error you can think of (please let me know if I missed any warnings I don’t wanna upset anyone or make anyone uncomfy. That being said minors pls DNI!! I don't feel like blocking anyone today)

Word count: 2.25k (i do be getting carried away)

How do you go about explaining your current situation to the higher-ups if you get caught with him? Do you tell them that, instead of getting pointers on how to guide students down the right path, you’ve been indulging in some very explicit acts with the man who is supposed to show you the ropes? No. That’s not right either but in all honesty, it would have been a lost cause from the get-go. Gojo Satoru is the least traditional in his teaching methods and is without a doubt a troublemaker but his antics are a part of what makes him so charming. It’s that same charm that finally made you cave and accept a coffee date with him on the next day you both had off. 

You don’t know exactly when it happened but little by little those morning coffee dates turned into mid-day snack runs, then dinner and overindulging in desserts at the other’s house. Everything took an unexpected turn when you went a bit overboard on the sake one night. The next morning you woke up naked on your couch, the sun in your face, a pounding headache and a large man clinging to your body like a koala. As much as you wanted to maintain a professional relationship between the two of you, it was so hard to not crave another taste of him. He couldn’t resist you either, one bite and he kept coming back for more. 

You two are definitely going to get into some serious trouble for this.

After stressful days of exorcising curses Gojo likes to unwind with a sweet treat from his local bakery and you by his side. He’ll find it ridiculously adorable if you have a bigger sweet tooth than he does. On the walk back to his house, you both snag a pastry from the bag of goodies and laugh at the other for not being able to wait until you reached your destination. The two of you arrive shortly after but Gojo decided he wasn’t entirely satisfied...

“Hey, sugar?” he asked while removing his sunglasses, his eyes entirely focused on your movements. You started to place what was left of the little cakes in a dish that was used specifically for the sweet treats of the day, he quickly recalled how you made fun of him for the fancy crystal platter but he admitted to being a bit extra like that. “What’s up trouble?” He let out a soft chuckle and got closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders leaning down to rest his chin on top of your head. “Trouble? That couldn’t be me.” you placed the cover back on the platter and put your hands on his arms settling back into him slightly. “You only call me ‘sugar’ when you want something from me, so what is it?” 

Now that was true, he had a list of pet names for you that he liked to pull out for certain occasions and you caught onto that quickly. It’s really not fair at all how he can make innocent words sound so damn sinful when he wanted to tease you. You turned to face him now, his hands resting on either side of you. He leans down and places a feather-soft kiss on your lips, so soft it’s almost like he’s not making full contact with you.

“I thought we didn't do those things when it was just us together like this?” Your eyes fluttered open and he came back in for a real kiss, his hot tongue lingering lazily on your bottom lip but not enough to excite you. He does that on purpose. “I know but it’s just the thought of it, I can tell you're thinking about it too.” He reached for the dessert dish and picked up a small cream filled pastry, he took a bite and offered you the other half. You knew it wasn’t an accident when he got the filling on your lip and chin. He used his thumb to clean up the mess he made then licked it clean, he is actually evil but even if you do hate him sometimes you can’t find it in you to resist him. 

“C’mon Y/n, don't you think it would be interesting to try while I go down on you? Just a little bit?” You bit your lip at the thought and he was already excited for your answer. He was right, the idea of him between your legs, devouring you but not quite. Being able to feel everything between the two of you but not making an actual connection. it ignited a small fire within you. 

“We can try it once but I can’t promise that I'll like it.” 

Truthfully that was all he needed to hear before he began to strip you of your clothes, leaving you completely naked. His large hands began exploring your body, grabbing onto any dip and curve he can find while placing sloppy kisses on your neck. He used both hands to get a firm grip of your ass, lifting you onto the cold marble countertop, you let a small moan escape you at the feeling and he placed a wet kiss on your lips. Tugging on the fabric of his long sleeve you brought it up and off revealing his defined upper body, you could drool if you didn't have some self control. “Satoru not too much okay? It’ll drive me crazy when all I want is to feel you.” The whimper that fell from your pretty mouth was almost enough to make Gojo cum in his pants, you swore you saw hearts glowing in his bright blue eyes. “Don't worry princess only a little bit. Besides you know my sweet girl always gets what she wants.” 

If there was anything that came close to what you picture heaven was like, it would definitely be the equivalent to Gojo’s strong, slender fingers expertly rubbing your folds. He always found every sweet spot and applied the perfect amount of pressure without you having to say a word. 

“Baby, did I make you this wet?” He used his thumb to spread your slick around, creating a delightful rhythm on your clit. Hips trembling when he grazed that one spot that practically had you gushing for him.

“Yes! It was yo- oh fuck that feels so good!” you leaned forward, resting your head on his chest, admiring the way his fingers looked so mesmerizing covered in the pretty shine of your juices. “You know you're the sweetest thing ever right? So damn delicious. I can spend hours between these sexy thighs of yours.” His breath is hot on the tip of your ear and that smooth voice sends shockwaves throughout your entire body. His free hand wrapped around your thigh and gripped below your knee, shifting the angle at which his fingers were exploring your overly sensitive hole. 

“Are you gonna let me make you cum with my mouth? Let me taste how sweet you are?” his lips started to trail the sides of your neck down to your chest. He left a series of kisses on each breast, sucking lightly on your stiff and sensitive nipples. “Ah Satoru please! I want- Ooh want your tongue.”  He licked a stripe across your tummy then placed a soft kiss on your belly button, he moved your thighs once more and found a position comfortable for the two of you. Your legs resting nicely on his shoulders while he rubbed circles on your hips and waist. “Look at this gorgeous pussy,” a soft kiss on your inner thigh. “So pretty.” another kiss on your swollen clit, you couldn't help but arch your back off the counter, grabbing a handful of his soft hair. He nibbled on your thigh and a sharp whine fell from you. “Remember to behave sweetheart, I'm supposed to be going easy on you.” His chuckle vibrated against your hot mound and you let out a sigh, releasing some tension from your hands on his head, allowing him to do what he wanted with your body. 

Gojo’s tongue seemed to have a mind of its own, curling and sucking at the special spot that only he knew about with perfect accuracy. The buzzing sensation that you normally felt when he's down there was reduced to an incomplete static, like your nerves weren’t fully receiving the information of his movements. Now that? That was different. It really was infinity… a barrier he controlled entirely, the rolling of his tongue feeling more like a whisper of pleasure that was everything and nothing at the same time. You were right to think it would drive you crazy but in the most euphoric way possible. “Oh my god it feels s-so good! P-please don’t stop baby I’m so fucking close.” 

The large kitchen was filled with desperate sounds of pleasure and the soft squelching of Gojo’s fingers inside your quivering cunt. This feeling was new but you were instantly hooked. It didn't take long for you to fall over that glorious edge with a broken moan of his name and a string of curses, making little to no sense at all. A deep groan erupts from his chest as he takes in every drop of your release in satisfaction. His gaze found your blissed out expression and he decided to ease up on that invisible veil between you, fingers slipping from your tight whole. You clenched around nothing and the loss of his fingers filling you was enough to nearly make you cry. 

“That‘s my favorite flavor right there sweetheart.” he spent some time admiring the way you looked coming down from your high. The rise and fall of your breasts with every breath paired alongside the slight shaking in your limbs from how intense the orgasm was. You're a work of art to him, truly, especially like this. Opening your eyes you find his stupid gorgeous face resting on your thigh, licking his lips simply enjoying your taste. You ran your fingers through his hair one more time before softly squishing his face with your legs, letting out a breathless giggle while regaining some grasp on reality. “I w-want more, but let me feel all of you for fucks sake!” 

He instantly obliged, diving right back in, using only his tongue, setting a languid pace. His animalistic groans against your over sensitive pussy were a telling sign that he was enjoying himself, probably ridiculously hard in the confines of his jeans. The thought of his cock deep inside of you was enough to get you shamelessly turned on all over again. If it weren't for his hands on your hips, rubbing easing circles into your soft skin, you would be a convulsing mess on the hard marble beneath you. A dull ache was beginning to form in your lower back, but you could care less. Gojo's tongue was working wonders on that delectable bundle of nerves of yours. His hands started trailing upwards and fondling your breasts, your spine arching under his touch as he pinched your nipples. You both made eye contact and he could tell that you were close to another release, your entire body was starting to shake. “Ye-yeah baby I’m gonna f-fucking cum.” his tongue never relenting on you. You were on the verge of screaming, your thighs were probably strangling him at this point.

“Mhm my little honeypot. Are you gonna make a mess?” he growled delicately against you.

That was also new but holy shit it had your brain short circuiting. Honeypot?! Damn you really could make a mess and that was exactly what you did. His relentless attack on your clit was blinding but so fucking delicious you didn't want it to end. You squirted all over his face, covering his neck and chest with a stream of your juices. The added stimulation of his abilities, and the shock of this new pet name clearly having an impact on your intense orgasm. it could possibly be the best you've experienced. He was aware of that fact as well. “I love when you do that.” honestly you did too. The aftershock of it all had you both mesmerized, your body just a quaking mess, panting and moaning. You struggled a bit to get air back into your lungs but Gojo's hands squeezed on your waist reassuringly. Your hips were beginning to relax and he once again found a place to momentarily rest his head on your thighs. 

He huffed a small howl of amusement. You could instantly tell what he was so giddy about. “So? Honeypot?” you questioned him, not in a judging manner but out of curiosity and excitement. “It kind of just came out of me in the moment.” You couldn't help but laugh at his answer, a fitting response. You took a second to relish in the sight of your cum and his sweat tracing his brow. It will forever remain a mystery on how you managed to get so addicted to the world’s biggest pain in the ass, but here you were. 

That evil little smirk made another appearance on his face while he brought himself up to  kiss you, the taste of yourself was very much present on his tongue and soft lips, you screeched in excitement. He swiftly lifted you off the counter and began his trek towards his bedroom. 

“Are you maybe just a bit more curious on what else I can do to that pretty body of yours?”

yeah this is trash uh if you read this sorry for the lack of seasoning in your food

tags: @bobabybo @ibukiirisha

[maeve-writes]

Closer

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader       

Summary: You brought him closer to God

Rating: 18+; Minors DNI

Warnings: PWP, light bondage, dirty talk,

a/n: This was a submission for another SPN challenge. This is for the prompt: “I’m going to make you scream my name.”

Originally posted on @plaided-ani

Inspired by Closer by Nine Inch Nails.

 -

You were dead.

At least you hoped you were because there would be no other explanation of how you were in absolute, blissful heaven.

“You still with me, sweetheart,” a rough resonant murmur scratched at your ear.

The gag pinched against the corners of your mouth when you moaned and arched towards the sound of Dean’s laughter. Your skin burned against the pull of the rope which held you tight to the metal frame and pulled at your joints, giving you no quarter.

Heavy booted footsteps circled the bed, you did your best to track the sound with a tilt of your head. To your right came a slide of a drawer, a shuffle of contents and the eventual pop of a cap. “Mmm, strawberry,” Dean crooned.

The bed dip between your legs and the slow crawl of his large, broad body spread your legs wider to test the give on the ropes around your ankles. You could imagine what he looked like, tongue pinched between his teeth, lips drawn up in a sensual smirk as his eyes sparkled in sinful delight. You’d give anything to see him, just one brief look at the hungry expression on his face.

Instead you felt a cold drip onto your heated core that drew a full bodied shiver from you. One cool, sticky drop after another slid over your folds mixing with your own sweetened slick. “You don’t need this, do you, baby,” Dean chuckled and sat back to admire his work. “Already soaked and practically dripping onto the mattress. I haven’t even touched you yet.” You whined against the gag and you pulled on your restraints. Dean was a tease at the worst of times, but this was torturous.

He shifted his weight once again and you knew what the brush of soft cotton against your thighs and the puff of hot breath against your aching center meant. Two thick fingers parted your folds and Dean hummed in delight. “Fucking perfect.” A third finger slowly trailed from your entrance to your clit, mixing the flavored lube with your own natural tang before it disappeared, but a groan and a crystal clear pop meant Dean had a sampling taste.

Wet and thick, his tongue followed the same path, deliberate in its agonizingly slow pace that left your body vibrating with need. “Sweetest fucking thing on this planet, darlin’,” he praised. The flat of his tongue once again danced through your folds before his mouth locked around your clit and sucked on it leisurely.

You writhed on the bed, your thighs twisted and clenched around his wide form. Muffled pleas tore from your throat, but Dean paid them no mind. He moaned into your quivering sex before he released your clit only to drag his tongue slowly towards your hole and fucked it open.

The metal creaked as you pulled against the frame, all four limbs flailing uselessly. His nose nuzzled at your clit but was soon was replaced with his mouth as it enclosed around you once more, flicking and swirling that made your thighs trembled against his head.

You were close, so very close with every swipe of the thick, warm muscle and his scruff tickling your most sensitive parts. He knew you were almost there if his breathy laughter huffing against you told you anything and he rewarded you with long, hard pulls of your folds. Without preamble, he shoved two meaty fingers inside of you and sucked hard on your clit.

You lifted off the bed as you came, convulsing around his stilled fingers and weeping around your gag. He continued his assault on your oversensitive bud until you were practically kneeing in the head to get him away from you.

The bed shifted beneath you once again and over the ringing in your ears you could hear the jingling of Dean’s belt and the slow drop of his zipper. Then two warm, calloused hands ran up your thighs, blunt nails dug deep enough to hit bone when they came to rest on your hips. “So goddamn beautiful, baby,” he whispered in his gruff baritone. “So sweet and innocent, too perfect to be in a bullshit world like this.” For the first time since he pushed his way into your house, Dean sounded somber. “But there's gotta be people like you so there can be people like me.”

Like a vice, his fingers pinched your nipples, twisting and tugging until you sobbed against your gag. “People like me gotta corrupt people like you.” He drew in closer to you, voice like velvet on his tongue, “Heaven or hell, doesn’t really matter, don’t really need ‘em. I can tear you apart and put you back together and have you beg me to do it again.”

Your chest heaved as you tried to comprehend his words. “Would you like that, sweetheart?” His hands left your chest and closed around your neck, no pressure was applied, just completely enclosed around you, a silent promise of what he could do. “Want me to show you just how fucked up this world can be and make you feel so good while I do it?”

You panted against the cloth in your mouth, eyes wide, but hidden behind silk. Dean had never been rough with you, not on like this. Passionate, yes; slow, deep thrusts that melted your brain and turned you into jelly, not the bone shattering severity he threatened.

One nod was all it took. An inhuman growl ripped throat his throat and he captured your lips around the gag as he undid the knot at the back of your head. “I’m going to make you scream my name,” he hissed into your open mouth and tore off your blindfold.

“Dean,” you rasped when you regained your sight, eyes wide as you stared up at his darkened leer.

“Not loud enough,” he snorted and shoved your thighs further apart to carefully line himself up at your fluttering entrance. “C’mon, baby, let the whole world know who you belong to.” With a practiced snap of his hips, he shoved into you until his hips hit yours forcing a choked sob from your lips. “I know you can do better than that, Y/N.”

He pulled back to hook an arm under your knee to hold you open before he slammed back in and knocked the wind out of you. You knew what he wanted from you, but the brutal, punishing pace started, every snap of his hips rocked your bound body, the harsh shock waves taking your breath away. “Let me hear you,” he growled and lifted your other leg to drill deeper into you.

“Dean,” you whimpered, head tossed back unimaginable pleasure with your eyes squeezed shut.

“That.” Thrust. “Is.” Thrust. “Not.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Scream.” He dropped your legs and draped over your body to snatch your hair. He pulled until your scalp burned to force your gaze onto him once more, never once stopping his savage pounding. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head with as much leave as he gave you. “Then I suggest you start using that pretty voice of yours and sing for me, baby,” he whispered with his black eyes boring into you. His teeth flashed in a bright smile before they sank into your bottom lip and pulled.

Cooper pooled into both of your mouths to turn your teeth pink. “Dean,” you cried out, your entire body sore from their hold and the ruthless snaps of his hips.

“That’s my girl,” he praised with a deep guffaw. “Always so eager to please, aren’t you?”

You managed to nod once, your eyes fluttering and threatening to close. “Want to make you happy, Dean.”

“Oh, I’m always happy with you, sweetheart,” he rumbled and licked a bloody stripe up your cheek. “Happy to use this tight, perfect little pussy of yours. Does that make you happy, Y/N?” You nodded feebly, your body tired and aching from his onslaught. He grabbed onto your chin, fingers digging deep enough to hit bone and drawled out, “Say it.”

“I’m happy,” you replied weakly. From the snarl you received, that wasn’t the answer he wanted. His fingers twisted your hair until you could feel the strands being plucked from your scalp and you cried, tears ran down your face and you sobbed, “I love it when you use me, Dean. Fuck me, please! Whenever you want.”

He released you from your hold completely and sat back far enough to keep himself buried inside of you. “You better get yours because I’m going to get mine,” he warned you. The force of his hips was enough to rock the bed on its frame, each thrust swayed you in your ropes and every grunt he gave was followed by a mewling pule from you.

That unearthly growl filled the room as he spilled inside of you with one final feral push as deep as you could take him, leaving you unsated.

He wiped the sweat from his brow when he pulled out of you and grabbed the blade that laid next to you on the bed. “Get yourself cleaned up,” he huffed and cut you free from your hold. “Maybe something to eat, too. Gonna need you ready for round two.”

[clareguilty]

In Vino Sacrificium

Read it here on the AO3!

Thanks to Stella for helping me with the Latin! Lady Alcina Dimitrescu/Unnamed Maiden Rating: Explicit | Warnings: dubcon, drugging, erotic horror, power imbalance, the works Word Count: ~2400

The summons came late at night. Just as they had the night she left home. The heavy sound of heels on stone like an echo of the pounding on the wooden door in the dead of winter. It was past midnight, and the other girls had all gone to sleep, but she was awake, waiting.

Her time at the castle had been short -- for surely tonight would be her last. Spring had not even yet come, and she had only arrived in the darkest days of winter. It was not uncommon for the young women of the village to be summoned to Castle Dimitrescu in service of the Mistress, and it was not uncommon for them to never be heard from again.

She had not wanted to go. The castle was unwelcoming, dark and foreboding, with endless spires that disappeared into the mist. Every girl that had entered the castle had disappeared, and no amount of pleading from the village would give them answers.

But there was no denying the Lady Dimitrescu. She had sent men in the night, through the wind and snow, just to take her from her bed and bring her to the castle.

Louder and louder the footsteps approached. The door opened, heavy wood scraping across the stone floor. A few of the other girls stirred in their sleep as candlelight flickered from the hall.

Lady Daniela. Her painted black lips curled into a wicked gleam when she found exactly who she was searching for sitting on the side of the bed. Waiting.

“Mother wants to speak with you,” she said.

The Mistress of Dimitrescu herself. The maiden’s blood turned to ice in her veins. It was as bad as she feared. She had been berated on many occasions by the young ladies of the house for her missteps. Among all of the girls who worked at Dimitrescu Castle, she was among the weakest, frail and clumsy. Her frequent mistakes had made her an easy target for the sisters and their wicked punishments.

But she had never been brought before Mistress Dimitrescu before. And now she knew her fate.

Those bottles. Those damn bottles. Dark glass gleaming in the firelight. The kegs and decanters. The sly smiles of the ladies as they brought their goblets to their lips. Underneath the thick, sweet aroma there was no masking the metallic smell.

Sanguis Virginis. She had uncovered their secret. It wasn’t very well hidden to begin with, but she had refused to see that which was right in front of her until she had no other choice.

And when the Mistress had demanded a drink, asked her to fetch a glass, her hands had shook so badly with the knowledge of just what she was serving.

The bottle had crashed against the tile. Red spilling across the floor. She had cut herself on the glass trying to clean it, and could not even see where her blood had mixed with the wine.

And now she was to die. There was no forgiveness for wasting The Mistress’s precious wine. She would make up for what she had spilled by becoming the next harvest.

Numbly, she followed Lady Daniela up to the Mistress’s private chambers. The stone and wood of the servants wing gave way to dark wood and smooth tile and then to gilded filigree. Lady Daniela was quiet, but she did not bother to hide her gleeful expression. She would delight in whatever torment awaited the young maiden. Among all of the sisters, she was always the cruelest.

She pushed open the double doors to the Mistress’s chamber, and the maiden took a few tentative steps inside.

Mistress Dimitrescu was sitting in front of the fire. Even sitting on the sofa, she was eye level to the maiden. She remembered the first time she had seen the Mistress after coming to the castle, the fear and awe she had felt. Tall enough that she had to kneel to pass through any door. Pale, white skin. Her senses were more keen than anyone the maiden had ever met. She couldn’t be mortal, but that was impossible. Just like everything else at the castle.

Lady Dimitrescu stood as the maiden entered; her white silk dressing gown looked much softer than the stiff fabric of the maidservant’s dress. She was breathtaking, silky black hair curling around her jaw, bright golden eyes. Skin like porcelain, smooth as the silk she wore. Even without her dark makeup and painted lips, she was powerful, intimidating.

“Mistress,” the maiden bowed low. Surely the racing of her heart was audible to the Mistress, who seemed to hear and see everything that happened on the castle grounds.

“Little one,” Mistress Dimitrescu’s voice was melodic and saccharine, pitying. Far from the shrill, gleeful giggles of her daughters.

“Leave us, My Daughter, I would like a word with our little one here.” Her words surprised the maiden, who was sure that her punishment would be a public affair.

Lady Daniela huffed. Clearly she was anticipating the same. Still, she obeyed the orders of her mother.

The door clicked shut, and Mistress Dimitrescu sat back on the white sofa. She delicately patted the seat next to her. “Come sit.”

The maiden did as she was told, carefully sitting on the edge of the cushion, stiff and awkward as she kept her eyes to the floor.

“The girls tell me you’ve had a hard time adjusting to life in the castle,” she said. 

There was nothing the maiden could do but nod, her voice was trapped in her throat. She was certain the Mistress was going to kill her. Whatever terrible process created that horrible elixir, she was soon to find out.

“It can be hard to get used to such a change, but you have shown a lot of potential.” She recrossed her legs, silk swishing with the motion. “You’ve made a few mistakes, and that has cost us, but you can always repay the damage.”

The maiden shuddered. She didn’t want to know how much that bottle was worth. The acrid smell still burned in the back of her throat. It had taken hours to scrub the stains from her skin.

“Worry not,” Mistress Dimitrescu cooed. “You have everything you need.” She plucked a bottle from the side table, it looked so small in her hands. The sight made the maiden wince.

“Don’t be afraid.” She insisted again. She set two crystal goblets on the low table before the sofa. The pop of the cork did little to ease the maiden’s nerves, nor did the sound of the thick liquid pouring into the glasses. “It’s hard to know just how wonderful it is until you’ve had a taste.”

She picked up her own glass, swirling the dark liquid before taking a drink. Her dark eyes watched the maiden over the rim of the glass.

“Come, my dear. You do remember you have to make up for the bottle that you broke.” She leaned in closer, pale lips now stained with red. “Do as I say, and drink. It’s a rare honor for one such as you to taste the pride of the Dimitrescu name.”

The maiden nodded, but still didn’t reach for the glass. Her eyes were wide, fingers pressed into her thighs. Mistress Dimitrescu tapped her tongue to the back of her teeth. “I see,” she mused. She brought the glass to her lips once more, and reached forward for the young maiden. She wrapped her fingers over the back of her neck and tilted her head back, squeezing her jaw until her lips parted.

The Mistress leaned in, pressing her lips to the maiden’s and licking into her mouth. Her tongue was still coated in the damned drink. The young maiden had no choice but to drink from the kiss, moaning and struggling gently against her hold. She knew it was futile.

The drink was potent, heady. The flavor burned on her tongue and in her throat, thick and sticky. Mistress Dimitrescu moaned soft and low. “That’s a good girl,” she crooned as she pulled away. “Isn’t it wonderful? My pride and joy -- aside from the girls of course.” She watched the maiden’s eyes, watched her cheeks flush and her pupils widen. A drop of wine slipped from the corner of her lips and The Mistress licked it up carefully.

Not releasing her hold on the girl, she brought her own glass to the maiden’s lips. “Don’t spill, little one.”

Unable to do anything else, the maiden drank. Her eyes fluttered shut as the liquid burned through her. It was terrifying -- how quickly the wine took its hold. When The Mistress finally pulled away she was breathless and dizzy.

“That’s a good girl.” The words only heated her blood more, and she gazed at Lady Dimitrescu with adoration and want.

“Mistress…” she whispered, “may I have some more?”

Mistress Dimitrescu chuckled, low and warm. “Not just yet.” She pulled the maiden to her, practically lifting her off the sofa so she could bring their lips together. This time, the maiden was eager, seeking out that strange flavor on her Mistress’s tongue.

She let the maiden succumb to the drink, running her hands over her skin and digging her fingers into her hips. When the poor girl finally pulled away for breath she was panting and flushed, desperate for anything The Mistress would give her.

“Now, now,” The Mistress soothed her, stroking her face gently with her long, delicate fingers. “It’s time you began your repayment.”

She gently lowered the young girl so she was on the floor before her, kneeling at her feet. Slowly, she untied the fasten of her dressing gown, delighting in how the maiden’s eyes stayed transfixed on the motion of her hands. The silk parted, revealing the soft expanse of her breasts and stomach. She was a venus of the underworld.

The mistress pulled the dressing gown aside, uncrossing her legs and parting her thighs. She was completely bare. Wet. She had been aroused from the moment she decided the poor maiden’s fate.

“Go on,” she encouraged, winding her fingers in the maiden’s hair and pulling her in close.

The maiden leaned forward tentatively, already drunk off the wine and even more intoxicated by the woman before her. She pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of her thigh. The skin was so soft. Inch by inch, she trailed soft, wet kisses towards where The Mistress needed her most.

Without the effects of the wine, the poor maiden would be paralyzed with fear. She knew the danger she was in, but a burning desire had taken hold of her, and she wanted nothing more than to do everything Mistress Dimitrescu asked of her.

Desperate to please, she pressed her lips and tongue against The Mistress’s pussy. It was clumsy at first, as she kissed and sucked experimentally, searching for praise and low moans of pleasure.

The Mistress did not hesitate to guide her, holding her in place with her strong grip and whispering instruction. The maiden herself let out small, pleased sounds in response to every gasp or moan. She wanted to please, wanted to serve.

Her own desire was aching, like nothing she had ever known before. Still, she pushed past her own need in favour of her Mistress.

“Such a good girl.” She was rewarded with a soft caress and sweet words. “Make me come. That’s it little one.”

So the maiden doubled her efforts, she dragged her tongue through the wet heat of her Mistress. Every shake of her thighs and roll of her hips and hitch of her breath was an encouragement.

And when she came, she pulled on the maiden’s hair and held her firmly in place and took her own pleasure until she was satisfied.

The maiden sat back on her heels, lips and chin dripping and glistening in the firelight. She gasped for air, eyes glassy and unfocused.

The Mistress composed herself much quicker, pulling her dressing gown closed and tying it once more. “You did very well, little one,” she said with a softer smile than the maiden had ever seen before.

“Please,” the maiden begged, not even entirely sure what she was asking for. “Please, Mistress.”

She was more desperate than ever before in her life, blood thrumming with arousal and shaking with want. Beneath her skirts her thighs were soaked.

“Oh come here,” The Mistress lifted the young girl back to the sofa, delicately wiping her lips with an embroidered linen square. “Have another drink,” she pressed one of the crystal goblets into her hands, eyes shining and eager as the young girl quickly drained it all.

But that wouldn’t sate her. The drink made her dizzy, and tired, but she still wanted. “Mistress,” she tried again. “I need- I need…” she trailed off unsure how to ask. She had never known desire like this before. And it would be improper of the Mistress. And her thoughts were so cloudy from the wine.

The Mistress tsked and grabbed the maiden’s hand where it was unconsciously reaching for the hem of her skirt. “I know what you want,” she said, voice dripping with pity, “but you must stay pure. We can’t have you sullied and dirty. Your blood is perfect just like this. You smell so sweet.”

The words sparked fear somewhere underneath the haze in her mind, but all she could think of was the Mistress’s strong grip on her wrist. She needed her touch.

“Here,” the Mistress pulled her close, nearly on her lap. The closeness didn’t erase her desire, but it soothed the ache. “Lay back just a bit, why don’t you drink some more? Won’t that help?”

Of course. More wine. The maiden let the liquid flow past her lips, held against her Mistress’s bosom and drinking from her glass.

The room spun, and then fell into darkness.

When she woke, it was to the sound of low voices. The Mistress. Lady Daniela. She couldn’t open her eyes, nor move her limbs, but she strained to hear their conversation.

“You can take her downstairs. She’s so ripe, so precious.” The Mistress sounded overjoyed. “I can’t wait to taste her.

“Yes, Mother.” Lady Daniela did not sound as enthusiastic. There was the sound of footsteps, and then the maiden was being lifted, carried through the halls. The gentle sway lulled her back to sleep. She wondered if she would ever wake again.

Part 2

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[twstdreams]

May I request headcanons of Sawanaclaw and Scarabia with gn!reader who loves gingerbread men and asks boys to help them decorate it? When everything was finished reader gives them a little ginger-flavored kiss, thanking them for their help.

Content warning: food, cookies, holiday

Leona Kingscholar

He’ll eat the cookies when you’re finished. He’ll even take a nap to wait while the icing hardens

At most, maybe he’ll play chess nearby so you’re in the same room or vicinity as long as your decorating isn’t too loud.

He really cannot be bothered. Leona does not prep his own food and he has no intention of changing that. It truly does not bring him joy to decorate cookies

Better prepare some rewards upfront or you will not get this man to move a single centimetre. If this is something you really want and you’re convincing enough, he’ll humour you and decorate a couple

Be prepared for some UGLY gingerbread men. You swear one looks like an alien and another is straight up just the cookie dunked in icing

Leona doesn’t really care for desserts but enjoys your sweet kisses

The surprised squeak that escapes past your mouth if he teases you and licks a bit of icing off you lips makes him happier than the gingerbread men

He enjoys nibbling on you more than the cookies and thinks the blush that decorates your cheeks looks better than the icing and candy adorned on the gingerbread men. Leona won’t tell you that though but you can take the hint through his actions

Ruggie Bucchi

Sure! Why not? You’ve already made the gingerbread cookies, might as well go through with it and decorate them. Besides, he gets to eat them in the end, so it’s worth it!

Decorations are a little wonky at the beginning but Ruggie quickly gets used to it and makes some nice designs with continuous lines and a generous amount of his favourite candy sprinkled. He also has a variety of faces with some in horror about their fate to be eaten and others with an oblivious smile.

Sweets in general are a treat back home, and even then they wouldn’t get decorated ones often as it adds on to the cost. 

If you have a theme you want to do, he’ll play along and match whatever you’re feeling. He’s not that picky. If left to his own devices, Ruggie goes for more simple designs

Keep those gingerbread-laced kisses coming and he’s happy to do more decorating for that kind of work. Maybe you need help wrapping presents now?

Jack Howl

If you want, he will decorate with you. Jack doesn’t bake or decorate often in his spare time, but if it’s something that makes you happy, he’s willing to do it. He definitely doesn’t say it in those words, he might huff and puff but don’t worry because your plans won’t fall down

He makes cute cookies which match his family members. It wasn’t intentional, but he’s made one of each of his siblings before he’s realized it. He makes one of you too, but it might take some teasing to get him to admit it!

There’s a couple break in his icing lines, but he’s quite meticulous when placing candies. He uses a toothpick to fix any mistakes as needed.

His ears perk up and his tail stills when you surprise him with a ginger-flavoured kiss. No one ever said anything about kisses! Who kisses when decorating cookies?! 

Oh, but the way he wags his tail when you ask if he liked it indicates he definitely wouldn’t mind a couple more. Maybe even one per cookie he decorated?

Jamil Viper

Jamil will agree when he has free time and he’s sure Kalim is in class or at least somewhere secure. Decorating cookies is not so much fun when you’re plagued with worries about six different possibilities where your dorm leader could die

Jamil generally makes plain but delicious food, sometimes his sister would nag him enough that he’d make a more colourful creation but it wasn’t his top priority

But the whole point of decorating is to increase appeal via looks and perhaps adding a flavour or two depending on the frosting

You both make a flood icing and a stiff icing, ensuring to incorporate air, egg whites, and a dash of lemon juice to prevent it from being too sweet. 

Jamil mostly plays with colour combinations when decorating his gingerbread men. A tasteful placement of a candy or two but only includes ones he thinks would compliment flavour. He does not opt for hard non-perils. 

He has steady hands from years of cooking experience and the whole experience is quite calm and smooth with an air of gentle happiness

Jamil would have helped regardless, but he accepts the gingerbread kisses with ease so long as no one else is in the vicinity

He thinks the spicy sugary taste of your lips matches your sweet personality and the complexity that accompanies it

Kalim Al Asim

Agrees so quickly, he’s practically dashing to the kitchen

You have never seen SO much icing on a cookie. Kalim will happily use all the dyes and make some of the most colourful gingerbread men ever. They are getting an entire outfit and accessories

Actually enjoys using the swirl technique where you dunk the cookies in a bowl of coloured icing, then sprinkling on whatever sprinkles he thinks will match

Kalim eats in the middle of decorating. Some of them look so good! He just can’t resist

He has an apron on so his clothing is spared but Kalim gets sticky fingers pretty quickly

Candy galore! Gummies, sprinkles, sugar crystals, gold leaf, non-perils, snowflake shaped sprinkles, whatever looks cute and colourful has landed on his gingerbread men

The electric smile on his face after you kiss him makes it look like he’s in the midst of a sugar rush, but the combination of lingering gingerbread and your sweet kisses is his new favourite pair

[ssa-sugar-tits]

Ten Years (ch. 4)

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Content warnings: cursing, smut, nsfw, penetrative sex, car sex, public sex?, hair pulling

a/n: this is literally just porn. remember to use protection, only have sex in private if car sex is illegal in your state, and never drive after drinking.

   Maybe your relationship hit a bit of an unexplained rough patch. But you and Spencer have always been more than a typical couple. You've gotten through worse, this is just a step to start re-igniting the love you've spent years growing and nurturing. The dress you choose is a dark, plum purple. It hugs your curves, stopping a few inches above the knees. You pair it with a set of diamond earrings and a wine red lipstick. Slipping into a pair of glossy black high heels, you complete the look with a sleek, half up, half down hairstyle. Not to sound conceited, but... you look fucking hot. And ready for your date.

Spencer takes a deep, steady breath as he adjusts his tie in the mirror. It's his first date with you and he has to pretend it's a regular thing. Good luck with that, he scoffs to himself. When you step out of the bedroom, his jaw drops. He'd only seen you outside of work attire 4 times. You smirk seeing how his eyes glue to you, taking you in like a work of art.

"How do I look?" you ask confidently, already knowing the answer.

"Perfect." he breathes out.

"You look okay too," you laugh. "Now let's go."

Placing a kiss to his flushed cheek, you leave the apartment and get into the car. It's surreal to him, that you remember little things like how he doesn't like to drive. You speak to him and look at him with genuine love.

"Reservation for two, Spencer Reid." He tells the woman at the front. She escorts you to a small booth and takes your orders.

"We haven't done this in a while," you laugh, opening the menu in front of you.

"I want to." Spencer blurts out, confusing you a bit. "Do this, I mean. You're everything to me, Y/N. I'll do anything to make you happy like you deserve."

Speechless, you meet his gaze and give him a flustered smile.

"You know how you sound right now?"

"How?" he prompts.

"Like you did when we went on our first date," you reach to hold his hand and laugh. "We're already married, no need to charm me babe."

He beams and takes your hand.

"I know, I know but I love you. It's important to me that you know that."

"Well I've known that since like, the day we met but I love you too."

He has to do a double take, realizing what you said.

"Wait since... Y/N," he clears his throat. "How long before we became uh-- romantically involved, were you aware of my feelings for you?"

"Quite the profiler, aren't you?"

It's crazy, all these years and you really haven't talked about it? You thought you had but he's the one with the eidetic memory... he would know. The waitress returns with your food and you start to recount how his small crush had first become apparent.

"Spence, it was pretty obvious when you stumbled your way through an introduction on my first day. Then there were the stares when you thought I wasn't looking, the awkward smiles, the not-so-subtle jealousy when someone hit on me." A reminiscing smile grazes your lips as you recall the early stages as your relationship and heat rises to Spencer's neck and face. Noticing, you reassure him.

"Don't be embarassed, that was years ago. And clearly I thought it was cute since I married you."

For reasons you couldn't possibly understand, he's humiliated. Did his Y/N really know exactly how he felt about her? Then it turns to a sense of giddy happiness, realizing you return those feelings.

"Why'd it take so long for us to happen?"

A scoff distracts you from your dinner as you shake your head.

"My guess is we were both a little too fucked up to do anything about it. Your dumb, genius ass thought I'd reject you and my dumb, non-genius ass was too scared to commit. But it all worked out just fine, didn't it?"

"It did," he agrees with a sense of sweet euphoria filling him. "I'm eternally grateful for that."

Something in the air, something between you is drawing you to each other in a way you've never felt.

"Spence."

You gaze at him with a fierce desire and he gets the message.

"Check please!"

   Stumbling into the backseat of your car, Spencer grips a handful of your hair sternly while pushing his mouth into the most passionate of kisses. All the while your hands fumble to unbutton his dress shirt. He licks his lips as he examines your far too clothed body. You're thrown back onto the seat and his slender fingers explore your body, tongue still blitzing yours in firey love. A premature wine-flavored moan slips your throat into his when he squeezes your thigh delicately. While you grapple with his belt hastily, he pulls the straps of your dress down your shoulders to expose your breasts. Exposed and writhing, he attaches an open mouth to your neck trailing down to your breast causing you to gasp loudly. Spencer wraps his lips around your nipple and suckles, washing you with bliss. You use your free hand to palm his length, causing him to groan before lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. Having never felt the sensation of unraveling a woman, especially you, into such a pretty mess he instantly sighs in comfort feeling your warm wetness drip down your thighs.

Wait. Fuck. That's a problem, isn't it? He was a dorky virgin when you met. A cute dorky virgin, but still a dorky virgin. Just go with it, he tells himself. It's what you'd say if you knew.

Bursting with sudden affirmation, he lines up his cock up to your soaking slit and enters you. His head rolls back in immense pleasure and he almost forgets to actually fuck you. You moan with the first heavenly thrust and dig your nails into his firm backside.

"Oh my god, Spencer." you roll out in a syrupy haze.

His pace quickens and he tugs at your hair. Th sound of his supple skin slapping against your body paired with your love coated moans crystallizes the atmosphere.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so pretty," he lets out more filthy strings of praises and groans louder.

"Spence, I'm so close," you practically whine.

It isn't just sex, it's true love-making and expression and you're gravitating with pure bodily harmony.

"Almost there, let go for me baby."

His words send you over the edge and waves of felicity spin through you. Your pussy's walls tighten around his dick, prompting more stretched out moaning and grasping. Red lines of love streak Spencer's back while you ride out your orgasm. The ecstasy of what you did radiates, leaving heavy breathing and dopey grins evident.

"Goddamn, Y/N." he sighs contently, dressing himself and trying to smooth his now wrinkled clothes in the limited space of the car. You open the car door and drive home, giggling and floating from absolute love all the way. Leaving your heels in the hall, you and Spencer make your way to the bed not bothering to change out of your dress clothes. Burying yourself in his neck happily, he holds you firmly and you drift off to sleep together.

Beep. Beep.

Spencer wakes up, slightly irritated by the alarm beside him.

"Morning love," he mumbles before he realizes you aren't in bed with him. Shifting, he runs a hand through his hair and yawns wondering where you are.

"Y/N?"

You don't respond but his phone chimes, indicating he's received a text.

No, god no.

You have to be fucking kidding me, he screams internally.

8:04 AM

Wednesday, July 30th, 2005

New message:

Y/N

Reid, everything okay? JJ's presenting the case in a few minutes. Call when you're on your way.

It wasn't a dream, he can say that without a doubt. He spent a week ten fucking years from now. He isn't insane, it happened. He stares in disbelief at his phone.

He... He should get ready for work shouldn't he?

[bratxfantasy]

Tap, tap, tap.

A clawed fingertip tapped rhythmically against the dark oak table top, his other hand holding the crystal glass of bourbon to him lips. There's a subtle smile playing upon his face as he sips his drink, dark eyes following your unsuspecting figure across the room. Though it's full of people, beasts and man alike, he can pluck you from the herd easily. It's your scent, the sweet smell of lavender and honey and sin. His mouth salivates at the sight of you.

Roman sat alone at the back of the bar, hidden by poker tables and groups playing pool. There's people dancing to whatever's playing and he couldn't care less, he's just waiting for the opportunity to pounce on his prey. Your friends are here with you, however with how things are going from what he can see and hear, they'd be taking their leave soon enough.

You'd have a better time with him, he muses at the thought. Surely you'd prefer his company. Oh the things he could show you! The things he'd do to you, the mere thought of it sends a jolt of excitement through his body and shamelessly to his cock. He wanted you, and he'd do anything to have you. Anything.

Finishing off his drink, the dragon demon ran his forked tongue over his teeth, rubbing along the canines on his upper and lower jaw. Here in this place, he's free to look more like his true self; a man eating beast that entails great misfortune to anyone who crosses his path. A Barynoke, a special breed of demon known to transform into terrifying dragons.

There's more to his appearance, but for now hr wished to keep a lower profile. No antlers, no tail, the scales under his skin itched to surface but like a good hunter, he stayed in the shadows. In all honesty, this isn't how he usually is. He's a master of deceit, an alluring monster with a silver tongue. He promises sweet release, he promises heaven only to show true hell.

It's delicious, the flavor of pain and fear. He revels in the screams and cries, many falling victim to his charm and beauty. Even so, he watches, waiting. Just as he thought, your friends began to leave one by one, leaving you by your lonesome at the bar. You're likely filled with enough booze to accept anyone's advances, and that would not do. He sits still, shrouded in the shadows cast from the over head light not too far away.

Eventually you gather your things clumsily, slowly making your way to the door and outside. Such a dumb little human you are. You're lucky to know his world, not many humans can handle such knowledge of things far beyond their understanding. You're lucky you haven't been swept away by a Fae, he snorts at the thought, standing and not bothering to leave behind any cash for his drink.

A hunter stalking his prey, he makes his way after you, being sure to keep his presence concealed. You're fumbling through your bag, cursing about your phone as you wobble through the alley. The smell of garbage and piss greets his nose like an unwelcomed guest, making his nostrils flare in disgust but he couldn't afford to lose you.

Within an instant he was on you, arms caging you in and a hand slapping over your mouth. Despite your struggling he squeezed, managing to press his lips to your ear to whisper a simple spell that made you suddenly go limp against him. "Oh my sweet, sweet treat," he hummed, shifting you in his arms so he could look at your face," what shall I do with you first, hmm?" He grinned, a wicked cheshire smile.

———

Shoving the front door to his home— rather hid lair— open with his foot, he held your unconscious form closely to him. If only you'd been awake to marvel at his magnificent true form, the beast that carried you off so easily through the air without a worry in the world. You're light as a feather to him, a mere speck in this meek world and yet you shine unlike most of the pitiful, fleshy mundane beings he's encountered. He still has yet to figure out what mskes you do special, but for now he has you and that is all that matters.

Moving you to dangle over his shoulder to free one of his arms he made his way up the stairs to one of the many rooms of the manor. He already had it prepared just for you. This us where you'd be living from now on as his pet, his darling little Brittany. Such a good girl you are, he chuckles knowing full well it's a lie. You have spirit, a spiteful tongue he'd so enjoy cutting from your mouth— however he decided he'd prefer it where it is.

Lying you down on the bed he moved you onto your back, adjusting your arms above your head to each bed post. Chains wait patiently to be locked around your wrists, finding home snug against your fair skin. Locking them and stowing away the key into his pocket he pulled the thick comforter up over you legs but paused, eyeing how your little dress rose up your thighs.

Dropping the blanket his hands glide over thr plush fat of your thighs, pushing up the fabric to expose your panties. Licking his lips, Roman purred as his fingertips dipped under the waistband to slide them off. Pulling your underwear down your legs he held them up and admired the lace. It was like you knew he would come for you, such a naughty little minx. The demon covered you back up, finishing what he was doing before stuffing your panties into his pocket.

Surely you've noticed a few missing from your laundry as of late, more so the dirty than clean. He's been inside your home on numerous occasions, studying your things and gathering as much information his immortal brain could absord. Now he had you, and he's never letting you go.

"See you in the morning, little one." He smiled and gently touched your face with a knuckle, pushing your hair from your sleeping face.

— Roman

Hi sweetie, thanks for giving my character a test drive ;) Hope you enjoy the sweet, sweet torture 💗 no but fr, Ily lmao you're a doll

My slumber was far from pleasant. Nightmares upon nightmares lingered throughout the night. Any moment I thought they vanished, it was present once again that they are leaking back in.

It all started out so pleasant. I was out with my friends, drinking, and dancing. Then we went home only for me to be grabbed.

I struggled, I truly did. I used all my might to escape from his death grip only to be met with darkness. From there, all I know is hell. Fire, screams and cries of souls being taken, his evil fingertips lacing around his victims.

He looks human, but he is far from it. He’s a demon.

My eyes finally peeled open to an unknown room. Confusion struck, gazing up to see my arms are chained. A subtle breeze grazed parts of my skin that it should not have. Was I naked? Where the hell am I?

Then it hit me.

Last night was not a dream; it was real life.

Screams admitted from me, a natural response I had no control over. “Let me go, you sick bastard!” I bark, not knowing who I am even speaking to, but if they are lurking, they shall feel my wrath. The wrath of a warrior.

I refuse to go down without a fight.

I’ll never give up fighting.

Rattling my chains, I attempt to break them somehow. That was a failure all in its own, but I wanted this person to return. I had a few choice words waiting for him.

He will feel my wrath.

[kindahoping4forever]

Just Outside Of Town & You’re Making Your Way Down // Calum Hood

The never-ending prompt list returns! This was actually the first request I ever personally received (if you’re still here, anon, sorry this took so long!) and I’ve had it finished for a minute but I kept putting off posting it partly because I was nervous to post a non-Ash piece and partly because I couldn’t stop writing Ash pieces that I wanted to share immediately lmao. Thank you to everyone who hyped me up about this the other day and as always, thank you to @cal-puddies​​ for the advice, the encouragement and the general company in clowning.

Prompt: “Goddammit... All I can think about right now is you licking my cock like it’s that ice cream cone.”

Warnings: There’s a cute setup but it’s basically PWP after that, first attempt at Boyfriend!Cal, oral sex performed on a male in a semi-public setting (is this the shortest warning section I’ve ever had lmao?)

Word Count: 1.6k 

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————-

“You couldn’t possibly be making more of a mess,” you giggle as ice cream runs down your boyfriend’s chin.

You and Calum were having a low-key date night; you went for a nice drive, enjoyed a casual dinner and took in a late movie. As you were leaving the theater, he noticed that the ice cream place you both like was still open and suggested you grab some dessert. But as you watch him struggle with his serving on the walk back to the car, you wonder if he was beginning to regret this decision.

He crinkles his nose and tries to dodge your hand that’s threatening to dab his face with a napkin. “Baby, if you hadn’t taken so long to decide what flavor you wanted, mine wouldn’t have started melting before you even got yours," he points out.

Rather than debate his relatively fair point, you redirect the blame. “You just take too damn long to eat, bub,” you laugh as he continues to lose his battle against the melting frozen treat.

“Never heard you make that complaint before,” he cracks. He starts to shoot you a self-satisfied yet somehow still adorable grin but it quickly turns to a frown as a large glob of ice cream slides off the top of his cone and onto the ground. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

You stop walking to shake your head and pout sympathetically at him. “This is sad, babe, let me help,” you offer. Reaching for his cone, you gesture for him to take yours; you trade desserts and you eyeball his double-scoop waffle cone for a second before you dive in. 

You tilt your head to the side and stick your flattened tongue out, rolling the cone along the width of it, smoothing out where the two scoops were beginning to separate. With the tip of your tongue, you lick up and down the sides of it, tidying up where the multiple drips were coming from. And finally you wrap your lips around the top of the cone and move it in and out of your mouth a few times, trying to mold the swirled top into a shape that was less likely to topple as it continued to melt.

Satisfied with your handiwork, you triumphantly hoist the cone towards Cal’s face, which is now displaying a cartoonishly stunned appearance. You take in his expression and give him a quizzical one in return. 

“What? Are you mad because I ate so much?” You ask, words coming out a little funny due to your tongue getting cold from your assist. “I had to, Cal, it was honestly a disaster zone but you can have some of mine if you want to make it even,” you offer.

He shakes his head, almost as if to literally break himself free of his daze and switches cones with you once more. “It’s fine, I was just… impressed at your… artistry,” he explains with a laugh. “Thanks for lookin’ out for me, love.” He slinks an arm around your waist and you resume walking.

The rest of the stroll is spent in comfortable silence as you devour your treats; by the time you’re back sitting in the car, you’re already down to the cone on yours while Cal is starting to have issues again. 

He catches you watching his predicament unfold and tries to pout but chuckles instead, “You know I like to savor my food, don’t make fun! I should’ve listened to you, though, two scoops was too much.” 

“You definitely should’ve listened to me, Mr. Savory, but I wasn’t gonna make fun,” you laugh, polishing off your cone. “I was just gonna ask if you needed more help.”

“Ohhh, that’s the last thing I need,” Cal deadpans. 

You give him a look of amused confusion, assuming he’s just being stubborn about needing your assistance. 

“It was… that was a lot, baby,” he shakes his head, eyes widening at the memory.

You roll your eyes at his classic Calum obliqueness. “Like… A lot of ice cream? What am I not getting?”

“Goddammit…” He lets out a choked laugh that you recognize as both partly shy and wicked. “All I can think about right now is you licking my cock like it’s that ice cream cone.”

You were expecting another non-answer, so you let out a stunned cackle. “You’re not serious? You got turned on watching me save your ice cream?” You playfully shove his hand off your thigh. “You horny bastard,” you taunt.

“Baby,” he says, voice deep, grinning knowingly. “You didn’t see yourself, it was downright pornographic.”

“Trying to flatter yourself into a little date night action, I see how it is,” you tease, scooting closer to pull him into a kiss. 

He deepens it immediately and you make a pleased murmur against his lips when you discover you can faintly taste the ice cream on his tongue. Your hands begin to wander and you let out another murmur when you feel his semi-hard cock. “Wow, you weren’t kidding, were you, babe?” He simply groans in response as you rub him over his pants. 

“A truly hilarious joke, me having to drive us home in this state,” Cal sheepishly laments.

“Don’t have to,” you shrug and gesture towards the empty parking lot you’re sitting in. He searches your face to gauge how serious you are and you pull him back in for a kiss that leaves your intentions unmistakable.

Calum eagerly scoots his seat back to give you more room as you pull him out of his jeans and lean out of your seat. He cracks up at the realization that he’s still holding his failed ice cream cone. “Baby, we’re gonna have two messes to deal with if we don’t do something here,” he jokes.

You snort and reach into the backseat, retrieving a discarded coffee cup. You smile fondly at him, charmed at the absurd sight of the man you love sitting in his car, hard cock proudly jutting out of his pants, helplessly holding a melted dessert. 

You reach for the cone, shaking your head. “Honestly, what would you do without me, Hood?” 

You take a long, exaggerated lick across the width of the treat just because and drop it into the cup, setting it aside. He caresses your face and simply grins, watching you reposition yourself across the car’s cabin.

Situated above his lap, you don’t waste any time and begin employing your ice cream technique. You flatten your tongue and run it along his shaft a few times, using the tip of your tongue to trace along his veins and ridges. It’s when you slowly start to take him into your mouth that you hear an unusual hiss above you; you glance up at him inquisitively. 

“Mouth’s cold,” he explains, voice straining. “Feels good though.” 

You smirk at him, taking that reaction as your cue to sink down on him as much as you can. He curses under his breath and runs his fingers through your hair as you move up and down his length, one hand working towards the base of his cock, the other lightly playing with his balls. You work up a steady pace, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head. You pull up almost all the way and focus on sucking the head for a beat and when your tongue dips into his slit, he moans loudly.

You pull off with a pop to catch your breath but continue to stroke him firmly. “As good as you were imagining, bub?” You tease, resting your head on his thigh.

“Always better than I imagine, love,” Cal pants, rubbing your back appreciatively. You flick your wrist in that way that always makes him crazy and he throws his head back and groans. “Gonna make you cum so many times when we get home,” he promises.

You smile at his vow. “Well in that case, let’s wrap this up,” you quip. He half-laughs, half-whines as you sink back down on him, letting him hit the back of your throat this time. You slide him almost entirely out of your mouth, swirl your tongue around his head and then take him back down, letting him hit the end of your throat again. 

You repeat this move a few more times before you feel his grip in your hair tighten and hear a “Fuckin’ hell, baby... fuck…” warning. You quickly pull up, lips wrapped tight around him, tongue flicking across the tip, hand tugging at him rapidly. Moments later you feel his cum shooting across your tongue; you continue pulling at his cock, making sure you get every last drop out of him.

Cal murmurs to himself as he watches you swallow it all with ease and lovingly clean him up before tucking him back into his pants. You flash him a sweet smile and he pulls you towards him, kissing you tenderly. “Love you, baby,” he breathes.

“Love you too,” you reply and press another soft peck against his lips before returning to the passenger seat.

He leans back against the headrest and exhales loudly. He looks over at you, furrowing his brow for a second. “You really weren’t trying to start something with the way you were eating that ice cream?” He asks, eyebrow quirked.

You giggle, “Hand to god, I was just trying to help a man in need.”

Calum nods in understanding and then shrugs as he starts the car. “Well next time we get ice cream, we’re getting cups instead of cones. Your judgment clearly can’t be trusted,” he teases.

—-

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[sterling-starlight]

I wrote fanfiction for ff14. 

It’s too late for me now. *Slowly sinks into FF14 quicksand* Faaaaaareweeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllllllll

(This takes place after The Cold Sets In at the end of 2.3, btw) (Also also I have never written Haurchefant before, so I hope he’s not ooc ;;) 

Haurchefant looked positively scandalized at Letisya’s admission, his mouth gaped open somewhat.  

“You have never had hot coco?” He asked, looking and sounding like the Warrior of Light had sprouted a second head.  Letisya shifted underneath the heavy woolen blanket Haurchefant had graciously given her.  

“ ’Tis normally very warm and humid in Gridania,” she began. “I will, on occasion, have a cup of tea, but only in the wintertime.” Of course, Gridanian winters also tended to be rather warm, at least in comparison to the other nations of Eorzea- with the exception of Ul’dah.  Haurchefant shook his head and stood,

“Well, this just won’t do,” he murmured, mostly to himself. “Pray, give me a few moments. I shan’t be long.” With that he turned on his heel and purposely strode out of the room.   Letisya felt warmth blossom in her chest at the elezen’s eagerness, one entirely unrelated to the warm blanket and roaring fire in the hearth.  The entire time she had known him, Haurchefant had shown himself as nothing but an earnest, amiable and generous man.  A welcome source of warmth in a land that sought to smother it under ice and snow, it seemed.   Letisya’s heart sunk, however, when one hand moved up to fiddle with one of the pearlescent earrings she wore. At a glance, they were inconspicuous things- not unlike what could be found at the jewelry stand in Ul’dah. No one would suspect them to be expertly cut glamor prisms, designed specifically to hide horns and scales.  

She hated the deceit. Haurchefant had been nothing but open and honest; but Letisya? She could only face him under the façade of an elezen woman.  The rational, pragmatic voice in her head (which was steadily beginning to sound more like Alphinaud), reminded her that the disguise was necessary. Ishgardians had massacred Xaela Au Ri like herself, so blinded by hatred that anything with horns, scales, and fangs were dragons by proxy.  It mattered not all the good Letisya had done; if she walked into Ishgardian territory as she truly was, she wouldn’t have been able to get within a yalm of Haurchefant before she was cut down.  

Haurchefant re-entered the room before the self-doubt and shame could drag Letisya further down into despair.  Two steaming mugs in hand and a smile on his face, he handed one to her before making himself comfortable on the ground beside her, their shoulders just a hair’s width away from touching.  Letisya sniffed the concoction.  How strange. When he had said “coco”, she had assumed he meant coco powder and expected something bitter, but this drink smelled sweet. She tilted her head and the clumps of white floating at the top, already half melted. “What is this white stuff?”

"Ah,” Haurchefant said, blowing into his mug, “guimauves. Delightful little fluffy confectionaries.” His brow pinched, and he looked over at Letisya almost sheepishly. “Do tell me if they are not to your liking, and I shall make you a new mug.”

“I will try anything once,” Letisya returned. Carefully, she sipped at her mug. As soon as the smooth, rich, warm taste of chocolate, milk, and sugar hit her tongue, she felt like she had transcended. Gridania’s honey tea, prized for its sweetness and rich flavor, was disappointingly bland and bitter by comparison.  “By the Fury...” Letisya whispered, forcing herself to move the mug away. She licked her lips, savoring the taste lingering there. “I need to know how to make this for myself.”

“And I will gladly teach you,” Haurchefant said with a fond smile. “Although, I find that hot coco tastes better in the presence of fine company.” Boldly, he closed what little distance remained between them.

Letisya could feel her heart slamming against her sternum, vibrating all the way to the tips of her horns.   It was not as if she was a pure maiden, or a trembling flower, far from it. But Haurchefant....

“He is only interested because you look like an elezen,” Her mind hissed coldly. “He is an Ishgardian; he would be horrified and disgusted if he saw the real you.”

“Does something ail you, my friend?” Once again, Haurchefant pulled Letisya away from the whirlpool of self-deprecation.   She attempted a smile, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes.  

“Forgive me. I am... just not used to such unforgiving weather.” As if responding to her excuse, the winter storm outside the garrison roared, wind whistling sharply against the cobblestone as snow and ice pelted the windows.  She took another sip of coco, counting on the euphoric taste to chase away her anxiety.  

“You are still cold, even after all this?” Haurchefant waved a hand towards the heavy blanket and roaring fire. “Well then. I know of a way to fix that,” he tugged on the blanket with his free hand. “If I may?”  Getting the hint, Letisya opened her blanket-cocoon up to him. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders, and wrapped an arm around Letisya’s waist like they had been doing this for years.  Like this was a nightly ritual, rather than a singular act of good will.  If the fates had been kinder, than perhaps... Letisya shook her head. She didn’t curse her lot in life, or the path the Mother Crystal had set her on.   But surely, she could indulge in one night of domestic bliss.  With a contended sigh, Letisya leaned further into Haurchefant. She had earned this respite a hundred times over, had she not? The world would not come crumbling down if, for a few hours, Letisya pretended that she was just a simple wanderer who had caught the eye of Haurchefant of House Fortemps.

[smediumsmeatbae]

When I Feel I Can’t Go On

TITLE: When I Feel I Can’t Go On PAIRING: Chris Evans X Reader SUMMARY: One Shot. After a terrible day at work, Chris comforts you.  WORDS: 1197 WARNINGS: Swearing and drinking, angst, slight mention of anxiety A/N: I thought of this story when I was listening to Sarah Smiles by Hall and Oates off of the line: “When I feel cold, you warm me. When I feel I can’t go on, you come and hold me.” It’s one of my favorite songs and I'm glad I was able to use it for inspo. :) If you enjoy this, please comment/like/reblog. I love reading comments!  This is another entry for the amazing @jtargaryen18’s 30 Days of Chris. I’m enjoying the heck out of this prompt and I’m really enjoying reading all of your all’s stuff too.    As always, you do not have my permission to post anywhere off Tumblr. Thank you!

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“GODDAMN IT.” You yelled once you were in the safety of your car and away from work.  It had been a bad day, a really bad day. A grant fell through for you that you had been trying to get for close to six months and it was all on a technicality that wasn't your fault. You weren't even sure how you were going to continue working without the money the grant would afford. Resources were tight in your field, you knew the risks of applying for that grant because competition was fierce, but somehow you just *felt* that it was going to come through for you. It was the breakthrough you needed for your research. Now it was all gone. 

You felt numb and tingly at the same time, your stomach was doing back flips, and you hadn’t noticed until now, but you were getting a very big migraine. Then, the tears started and you cried unapologetically, unashamedly; just you: a big, ugly, blubbery mess of tears inside your car. No one could see you in the car, you were sure. At least you hoped. 

After a few minutes, you got yourself together enough where you could drive home. You needed to be there, to lick the proverbial wounds that the day had created. You needed to heal and also to probably cry more... And you definitely needed a drink. Yes, a drink was very much in order.

Parking the car in the driveway, you pulled yourself and your purse out and walked up to the door. It seemed so surreal, the feeling you had. You felt everything so much and not at all. Unlocking the door, you set your purse down on the table beside and walked in. Dodger was already there, wagging his tail happy to see you. He was a welcomed sight after the shit day you had. 

“Hey Bubba.” You said weakly, patting his head and scratching behind his ears. He licked your hand and leaned his body next to you. You remembered at that moment that dogs are highly sensitive to emotion, so maybe he knew that you were especially needy that night. He followed you to the kitchen where you got out the Merlot you were saving for dinner, but on second thought reached for the bottle of bourbon instead. Fuck it. You poured yourself about two fingers full in a rocks glass and shot it down, then you put two more in the glass with a couple of ice cubes, deciding to nurse this one. You headed towards the living room, Dodger following you all the way, not letting you out of his sight.    

Letting out a groan, you sat down on the couch and dove head first into your pity party. Dodger laid down to the right of you, laying his head on his paw and waiting for any pets you may have given him. You scratched and patted the side of the pup, grateful that he was there. You took a long sip from your drink; the caramel colored liquid burned slightly in your mouth going down but the sweet woody flavor was a welcomed one. 

You could hear the door open and Dodger lifted up his head from his paws for a second to see who it was but did not move from your side. Good boy, you thought. Chris walked into the room and spotted you on the sofa with puffy eyes, makeup streaked face, and bourbon. Concern ran across his face as he moved towards you. Were you hurt? Were you sick? Why were you crying? He placed a gentle hand on your back and rubbed it slightly. 

“Baby?” He asks softly. “Are you okay?” “The grant fell through.” You spoke barely above a whisper, breath shaky. It was the first time you had spoken it out loud and it hurt like a sonofabitch coming out. It felt like you had been punched in the stomach. You could feel all your anxiety coming through and you were trying your best to keep it at bay. Taking a couple of deep breaths in and out, you took a swig from your glass and plopped it back on the table.  “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He moved to the seat next to you on the couch, still stroking your back. “C’mere.” 

He put his arm around your shoulder and guided your body close to him. You put your arms around his torso and dug your fingers into the material of his shirt, hoping that would ground you and stop the feeling of weightlessness. You could feel the warmth of his body as you laid your head onto his chest. His steady breathing calmed you and you instantly felt a bit better. The tears started falling fresh again, as if being near him let off some release that you were holding back. You didn't have to be brave in front of Chris, didn't have to pretend you weren't affected as you had to play in front of your colleagues. 

You breathed in his cologne and it calmed your whimpering down so that the tears weren't as rapid. Chris held you all the while, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. "Shhh, it's okay, love. Shhh, don't cry baby." He cooed in your ear, planting kisses on the top of your head. 

After a while, your sobs settled down. You felt really childish for being so needy, clinging to him so but at that moment, you really didn't care too much. You took a sip from your bourbon, which had watered down significantly since you started it. Chris had a small smile placed on his lips. He held up a finger to you and got up from the couch, walking toward the kitchen. You could hear him getting some items from the kitchen and walking back in. He had with him an empty glass and the bottle of whiskey you had started on earlier. 

"No one should drink alone." He shrugged with a smile and sat back down with you. He poured himself a drink and freshened yours. He took a pull off his drink after settling back into the couch. "Fahck those guys." He stated matter-of-factly. "Hmm?" You asked, still slightly out of it. "The board that vetoed the grant. Fuck 'em. If they can't see how brilliant you are, they don't deserve to fund your research." 

Chuckling and blushing a bit, you leaned yourself into the crook of his chest, holding your glass of bourbon to you.  "Cheers." You held up your glass in amusement and clinked his. Chris always had a way of making you feel better. It was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him. How could you *not* feel better looking into those deep crystal blue eyes? He wrapped his free arm around you and took a draw from his bourbon, crinkling his nose and eyes as he swallowed.  

You had no idea what was in store for you tomorrow or what the next coming weeks would look like for your job, but tonight, in Chris's arms and a good glass of bourbon, that was enough.

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Wicked Game (Part 3)

Word Count: 25K total The first part is about 5K, part 2 is 7K

Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.

Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.

Part 1

Part 2

Ashton jumped at the sound of the buzzer. Calum sent him a text telling Ash he was on his way so he knew he was coming, but he was so jittery it startled him anyway. He checked the time, 5:15 pm. 35 minutes to get here? That's good he doesn't live too far. Ashton held a bottle of cologne up and away from him, released three quick spritz into the air before walking through the cloud of fragrance. He made his way out of the bedroom, pausing for one final glance in the mirror. He brushed the soft brown curls off his forehead, his eyes reflexively checking his hairline. He silently thanked Hima for convincing him to get treatment. You could barely see the previously thin spots. Don't keep him waiting. You're ready for this.

Ashton opened the door and barely caught himself from gasping out loud. Hot Damn. His chest fluttered in a rush as his throat constricted. He didn't know where to look. Calum was holding a gift basket with three flavors of Ashton's favorite hot sauce but that wasn't what had his mouth watering. His eyes landed on Calum's hands holding the gift before trailing up to where his bronzed biceps disappeared into a crisp, red short-sleeve button up with one of those black tank tops he favored. His gaze lingered on the small gold necklace nestled against Calum's throat before dragging his eyes up to find the other man watching him with a shy smile. 

"Hima said this was your favorite," Calum blurted out, pushing the basket into Ashton's chest. 

"It is, thank you so much. Please come in," Ashton blushed hot pink as he gestured for Calum to follow him into the apartment. 

Calum got a whiff of Ashton's scent as he turned away from him, causing his spine to tingle at the memory of the missed opportunity that night in the club. His eyes followed Ashton's broad back, unable to resist a quick glance at his tight little butt. Hima mentioned her boss's daily yoga routine, and the black jeans he had on left very little to Cal's imagination. Pay attention Hood. You're here for an interview, not to get laid, he reminded himself. Por qué no los dos? a tiny voice asked that definitely wasn't from his brain. 

Ashton was equally grasping to get his thoughts together, but having Calum in his house made everything much more real.

"Go ahead and have a seat," he motioned for Calum to sit down at the bar while he entered the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? I have pink lemonade, mango infused sweet tea,  and wine." 

"Sweet tea sounds good. I'll have that if you don't mind," Calum sat on one of the tall stools facing Ashton in the kitchen.

Ashton garnished the drink with a slice of fresh lime, and Calum grinned as he handed it to him. 

"Always the artist," Calum remarked. "Hima was going on about that. She's very observant, and you're lucky she loves her job because she'd make an excellent reporter. I might steal her away yet." 

"Good luck getting past her mom," Ashton giggled. "All of them really, she's got a twin brother who's crazy overprotective and more cousins than I can count. My family was just me, mom, and the kids so it's a bit much." 

"Where's your family from?" Calum asked.

Ashton leaned against the kitchen island, his eyes fixed just above Calum's head. 

"I was born in Sydney, Australia. My dad fucked off when I was a baby, and my mom moved us around a lot. She got remarried when I was ten and had my brother and sister. We moved to the US soon after, and when they moved back I was a junior in high school, I decided to stay here. That's when I got a job in a kitchen doing dishes and grunt work." 

"Did you know right away you wanted to be a chef?" 

"Hell no," Ashton laughed. "I was miserable and living with three guys in a grimy apartment. I was trying to go to school and worked till close most nights. I got into a really bad fight with one of my roommates. He was a big, ugly bastard, ignorant homophobic piece of shit. He accused me of stealing his weed and attacked me. I was in the hospital getting stitches when my boss showed up and dragged me home with him. They put me up in the basement, bought me a bus pass, and he gave me a raise. Did you ever get to eat at Bordeaux?" 

Calum shook his head. "Never had the money or the clout. Didn't they sell it?" 

Ashton stepped up to the sink to wash his hands, setting his rings in a crystal tray on the edge of the windowsill. "Yeah, after his heart attack, his wife Brigitte made him give it up. She's a force of nature, that woman. She taught me everything I know about baking and pastries. Baking is when science meets art. Cooking leaves wiggle room; you can improvise. But baking doesn't allow for carelessness or impatience." 

He dried his hands before he pulled an object out of the fridge and placed it on the counter, unwrapping the plastic wrap. 

"I made mushroom Wellington for dinner, and getting the puff pastry dough right takes time. It's an all-day process because every couple of hours you have to roll it out and fold it so the butter gets folded layer over layer. That's what makes it rich, fluffy, and delicious. There's no way to shortcut that." He placed the pastry in a shallow baking pan and pulled a small bowl out of the fridge. "I'm brushing it with egg wash so it'll get nice and golden brown in the oven." He pulled out a small knife from the block and twirled it between his fingers. He narrowed his eyes, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he concentrated, making several small quick shallow cuts. He grabbed a couple of bottles and carefully sprinkled seeds and spices on the surface before looking back up at Calum. 

The intensity in the other man's eyes stopped him short. "Am I talking too much?" Ashton asked, feeling his face flush yet again. 

"No, not at all. I uh, almost forgot I'm supposed to be interviewing you," Calum stammered a bit, embarrassed to be caught staring. "So tell me, where did you go after you left Bordeaux?" 

As soon as the words left his mouth Calum wanted them back. That would be when he met Luke, you dumbass. Of course, his brain was a step behind his mouth. To his relief, Ashton shook his head with a sharp laugh.

"Yeah, that old story. Why don't you tell me a story I don't already know?" 

Ashton pulled another pan from the fridge and set it next to the oven. "Both of these have to bake for about thirty minutes. You can tell me a little about yourself while I make the salad. I don't like to talk while I'm using a knife, but I'm a great listener."

"Are those figs? I'm starting to think you're trying to impress me," Calum's eyes crinkled in a smile and Ashton's chest fluttered once again. 

"Maybe I am. Is it working?" Ashton spoke before he thought about it. Ooh, look at you flirting. 

"Oh it's working alright," Cal's voice took on a husky edge that gave Ashton a victorious little thrill, knowing he wasn't imagining the heat between them. "Do you need me to help with anything?" 

Ashton smirked, dirty thoughts racing through his brain. His dick twitched in his pants, eager for Calum's help, but then those dark eyes went wide as he realized what he said. The reporter nervously licked his lips and looked away while Ashton gripped the countertop to keep his knees from buckling. 

"I'm good, thanks," Ashton replied, needing to keep Calum at a distance if he wanted to have any concentration to make it through dinner. "Are you trying to get out of talking about yourself?"  He cut a thick slice off the largest fig, speared it, and offered it to Calum off the point of his knife.

Calum plucked it from the blade and popped it in his mouth, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he chewed. Ashton had to cough to suppress a whimper at the sight, his jeans now uncomfortably tight.

"One of the best things about being a reporter is not having to talk about yourself. My mom taught me to choose my words and my friends carefully. However, to be a good journalist, I have to be able to completely open myself up to each experience while not making it about me. I want to be the reader's guide to the story, not the star of my own show. I leave the primadonna bullshit to my coworker Felipe, or someone like Kevin Mackie."

Ashton chuckled, "Did you see his review of Anne-Marie's? Ass-kissing prick, he's banned for life." 

"Did you really throw him out of your restaurant? What did he say?,” Calum leaned forward, eager for details. “Hima wouldn't tell me. I wish I could've seen that." 

"She doesn’t know it all. I didn’t want to tell her, but he insulted her personally. He even managed to be racist and condescending while doing it. He's a twat. I was willing to grit my teeth and endure it because it's Mackie, and we all have to deal with him, but you’re not going to insult my friends. I can't even think about it without getting angry again" Ashton spat out the words and Calum's eyebrows went up in surprise. Ashton continued, trying to steer the conversation away from having to repeat the vile things he'd said. "You already know he brought up all the past drama and even asked me if I'd gone to the Galway Grill." 

"You're kidding," Calum couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously, though, that place looks awful." 

"It really does. You can tell they rushed the opening. Those tacky plastic decorations, if you thought Lune Rouge was gaudy," Ashton had to stop working because he couldn't stop giggling, which only got Calum laughing harder. 

"Did you see the fucking menu? The Irish puns, it's so bad. The best part is that it's not supposed to be awful," Calum said. 

"No, yeah, exactly it's supposed to be clever and fun, but it just comes off like a pretentious  dickhead." 

A loud alarm caught them off guard, and Ashton quickly silenced his phone and grabbed an oven mitt.  He checked the temperature of both dishes before turning them around and putting them back in the oven. Calum had the hiccups and asked for a glass of water between breaths. 

Calum hiccuped while trying to take a drink and began to sputter and cough. Ashton grabbed a towel as he came out of the kitchen and around to the other side of the bar. Calum covered his face and tried to catch his breath, but as he did, he became aware of Ashton's hand rubbing his back. His eyes still watering, he glanced over to see nothing but concern in the other man's face. Calum saw up close that Ashton's eyes seemed to shift color depending on how the light hit his face. He noticed the dimple on Ashton's chin and the rough patches of skin bearing faint scars from his teenage acne, the little bit of stubble under his bottom lip he'd missed when he shaved that morning, lips that were almost irresistibly close. Calum remembered he probably looked a hot mess and needed a minute to himself. 

"Can I use your bathroom?" He asked from behind the towel. 

"Sure, it's the first door down that hall," Ashton stepped back and let him pass. 

Calum closed the door behind him and took a quick look in the mirror. His face was still red but it was slowly fading. He took a piss and blew his nose before washing his hands and splashing some water on his face. The towel hanging on the rack was super soft and Calum could tell it was expensive even if he didn't recognize the brand. He took a second to look around, and while the rug looked as soft as the towels, everything else seemed to be made of bamboo. In fact, the only plastic Calum saw was a bottle of mouthwash on the sink. It was rude to look in the medicine cabinet, but he peeked in the shower. He smelled sandalwood and citrus, noticing they not only used the same brand of shampoo bar, but the shower enema attachment was identical to the one in Calum’s shower.  He began to worry he was taking too long, so he took another look in the mirror before opening the door. 

Ashton was setting Calum's salad up on the bar next to a fresh glass of tea when he sat back down. 

"Ooh thank you so much. This looks fantastic, is that feta?" Calum asked, suddenly realizing he was hungry. 

"It's actually honey-basted goat cheese. The dressing is a turmeric and honey vinaigrette. I like the extra touch of sweetness. I grew the lettuce in my little balcony garden out back, along with most of my fresh herbs." He stopped talking and watched Calum eat. He'd never seen anyone go through such a range of expressions while eating. He was clearly enjoying himself. Ashton felt like he was being intrusive for staring,  nevermind the thrill he got watching the other man's bliss. If he makes these faces while eating, I'm dying to see what he looks like when he's cumming, he thought.

Calum opened his eyes and caught Ashton blatantly staring. He met his gaze as Calum ran his finger along the underside of his bottom lip to catch a tiny drop off dressing from spilling down his chin and slowly licked it clean. He smirked when he saw Ashton blush and look away. Aren't you supposed to be working? A little voice reminded him, but he ignored it. "That was delicious, I can't wait to taste what's next."

Ashton smirked and started to reply when his phone rang. He started to hit ignore until he saw it was his mother. 

"Sorry, it's my mom. I have to answer this," Ashton swiped up to answer. "Hey Mom, hold on one second. I'm sorry about this," he said, covering the mouthpiece.

"Thanks, and don't apologize. It's your mom, I get it," Calum told him. 

"Yeah Mom, I've got company. Yes the interview, mmm-hmm, yeah. No, I'm home, but he's here. Yes, right now. No Mom it's not like that. I'll call you later. Love you too, bye." Ashton hung up and turned back to Calum. "Sorry about that." 

"Please, it's no big deal. I talk to my mom every day, too, and it's not like I didn't know you were a Mama's boy," Calum grinned. "Hima told me, and you did name your restaurant after her." 

"Hima talks too much," Ashton rolled his eyes with a laugh. "Yeah, my mom is my lucky star. We've been through a lot together, and she's the only one who's always had my back. I rely quite a bit on the women in my life, honestly. Lauren, my sister, is one of my best friends, along with my cousin Sophie. You've met Hima; Mom calls her my work wife." 

"I could see that," Calum teased, "until she opens her own place." 

"That's why I gave them a stake in the business. My mom suggested it. Hopefully, they'll want to stick around, maybe take over someday, who knows?" Ashton shrugged. 

"Mom knows best right?" Calum smiled, pulling out his wallet. He pulled out an old picture of a woman who could be his twin with a chubby-cheeked toddler on her lap. "This is my mom, Joy. She lives on the east coast now, and every morning my alarm goes off at 5 AM so I can text her good morning as she's having her morning coffee." 

"That's so sweet. You must be her favorite child," Ashton had the warm fuzzies watching Calum talk about his mom. The way his entire face lit up when he smiled melted him into a puddle. 

"My sister would agree with you, except she has Vanessa now, so she cares fuck all what I do," Calum said unlocking his phone. As soon as he did multiple messages popped up from his editor/best friend/total pain in his ass asking how his date was going. 

"Go away Sham," he mumbled, and Ashton looked at him and then his phone

Calum quickly hid the messages. "My editor, Sham. She's my work wife and constantly in my business." 

"Didn't Hima tell me she sets you up on dates? Like the pocket-sized lawyer from the club?" Ashton asked, suddenly jealous. 

"Hima talks too much," Calum grumbled, and Ashton lost it which set Calum off again. 

It took several minutes to regain control until Calum had tears on his face, and Ashton was about to piss himself. He excused himself, and when he returned, Cal showed him a picture of the same woman from the first photo only older in this photo, her dark hair streaked through with silver. Standing next to her was a young girl who was obviously Calum's daughter. They were both dressed in Polynesian-style floral dresses. She had the same dark flashing eyes, broad nose, and strong jawline as her father, but her face had a more heart-shaped appearance. 

Calum swiped to the next picture. "My sister, Mali, she's older and my best friend in the world." He pointed to the woman standing next to Vanessa, wearing a similar dress and tying a scarf around the little girl’s cloud of curly hair., The scarf was open a bit at the top, allowing her hair to work free of the silk forming a halo of curls for added effect. Whereas Mali had a bit of a sunburn causing her shoulders and cheeks to look pink against her warm golden tan, the sun had only added an extra glow to Vanessa's deep copper skin tone which was only highlighted by the vibrant blue and yellow pattern of her dress. 

"Your family is gorgeous. You definitely take after your mother. Your daughter is a real cutie, were you guys in Hawaii?" Ashton asked, curious about the outfits. 

Calum shook his head. "New Zealand, actually. Mom's whole family is from there. We went for a family reunion of sorts and so Vanessa could get to know her Maori heritage. She had a blast. We all did. Nicole came with us, and so did her husband. Well, he was her boyfriend then."

"Sounds like y'all have a good relationship," Ashton could tell Calum put his family above everything just as much as he did.

He swiped to the next picture and Ashton's jaw dropped. 

"Wow, that's your daughter's mother?" He looked up at Calum and he nodded. "She's beautiful and that bone structure, my God. The camera loves her, and you can tell she knows her angles too. Damn, you're gorgeous, but you leveled up there," Ashton didn't realize what he'd said until it was too late. He looked back at the picture to avoid looking at Calum. When you put Vanessa next to her mom you could see a strong resemblance there as well. 

Calum's ears burned with the compliment, and he was at a complete loss for words when the timer went off again, saving them both from the awkward silence. Ashton pulled the pastry out of the oven, flooding the room with a heavenly aroma that had Calum practically drooling. He grinned when he caught sight of the mushroom design Ashton had crafted out of paprika, coriander and sea salt. The mac and cheese was next, producing an insane cheese stretch from the pan to the plate as Ashton served it up. He finished the plate with a pile of oven-roasted celery and leeks topped with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and cracked black pepper. 

Ashton sat at the edge of the bar, at an angle from Calum so they could easily converse while keeping him steps away from the kitchen. At first, they were quiet, the food demanding their full attention, although Ashton had already decided watching Calum's expressions was his new favorite thing. The obscene amount of pleasure he took from his food had Ashton so distracted that he poked himself in the face with his fork. 

Calum was in heaven. He didn't know what cheese blend Ashton concocted, but he'd never had anything like this pasta dish in his life. The vegetables were still firm to the bite, and the fresh citrus was a nice contrast to the creamy, heavy cheese sauce. However, the mushroom Wellington was the real stand out, and Calum had never had anything like it. He opened his eyes and caught Ashton staring again. When he looked away quickly and his ears turned red, Calum was hopelessly smitten. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had cooked for him, and never, ever anything like this. He can cook, and he's handsome as hell, with a big dick and his own money?? He's definitely getting his dick sucked tonight. Calum almost burst out laughing hearing Sham's voice in his head. This time it was Ashton's turn to catch Calum staring, but Cal didn't look away. Instead, he gave the chef a wink and a smile before taking another bite. 

When dinner was finished, Ashton shooed Calum out onto the balcony so he could pick up a bit. He offered Calum an after-dinner smoke from his case of pre-rolled Raw cones. Ashton used to smoke weed all day long when he was a teenager before quitting cold turkey. The past couple of months, Rafi got him into a couple of decent blends to help him relax in the evening that didn't get him too wasted.

He made sure Calum was out of sight before quickly brushing his teeth in the kitchen sink. Ashton wanted to be prepared in case he got the chance to make a move. He'd even made a peppermint sorbet for dessert to cleanse the palate. He scooped out two small cups and topped them with freshly grated dark chocolate before heading out onto the balcony. 

Calum was sitting with his back towards the door, a small cloud of smoke wafting above his head. Ashton opened the door, and the cloud dissipated in the rush of cold air that followed him outside. Calum glanced back over his shoulder and offered the joint to Ashton as he took the icy treat from him. Ashton inhaled deeply one time before gently stubbing it out in the ashtray as he sat across from Calum. Overcome by nerves Ashton began to point out the various herbs and flowers in his little balcony garden. He could tell he was talking too fast, and his palms were sweaty but watching Calum eat ice cream might was obscene, 

The peppermint was stronger than Calum expected but left a lingering cool sweetness accentuated by the bittersweet chocolate. He scraped the cup, and ran his finger along the edge before licking it clean.  He shivered, and he wasn't sure if it was the chill from the sorbet or nerves as he tried to plan how to ask Ashton out on a date, a real one. 

Ashton abruptly stood up and walked to the far end of the balcony looking out at the city. Calum, sensing something was off, hesitated until he saw Ashton kept glancing at him and then looking away. He pushed himself up out of the chair and made his way over to Ashton and stood next to him looking out into the distance. 

"You ok? I can go if you want me to. I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Calum didn't know why he said it, but he suddenly panicked. 

Ashton looked up, stunned. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm just," he rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at the sky. "I-uh I got nervous."

"Oh?" Calum asked, his pulse picking up. 

"Yeah, I don't know how to do this anymore," Ashton mumbled looking at his shoes. "Kissing you is all I've thought about since the moment we met. And wow I said that out loud. Ok so maybe.." Ashton's sentence ended in a squeak as Calum's fingers brushed along his jaw and tipped his chin upwards to find Calum's face inches from his. He leaned forward as Calum's lips found his. The kiss was soft and slow, Calum's hands cupping his face as they melted into each other. Ashton's hands slid up Calum's chest before snaking around his neck and pulling him closer. 

Ashton felt as if he were suspended in mid-air, floating and flying as the heat grew in his chest. He had butterflies in his stomach as he pressed himself closer. He felt Calum's strong arms wrap around him, giving him a cheeky squeeze on his ass. They both giggled and pulled away for a moment to breathe. This time Ashton went in first, he'd been dreaming about this moment, and it was better than he'd imagined. He was relieved Calum wasn't trying to rush. Still, he couldn't resist pulling back to nibble on Calum's jaw before scraping his teeth along the hollow of his throat. The whine that escaped Calum's lips, as a result, was almost enough to make him cum in his pants.

"Let's go inside," Ashton took his hand, and Calum followed him into the living room. Calum sat on the couch and tugged Ashton's belt loop to get him to sit down. Ash started to sit next to him, but Calum shook his head and grabbed his thigh, guiding him down so Ashton was straddling him.

Ashton's head was swimming as Calum's gently bit his earlobe and ran his tongue along the curve of his jaw. He moaned and Calum growled in response, grinding his hips into Ashton's where his bulge strained against the fabric of his tight trousers. He reached up and began to unbutton Ashton's shirt, his fingers brushing against the cool steel of the chain he wore around his neck then dropped down, leaving a trail of fire in the wake of each touch. Ashton's breath caught in his throat as Calum began to ease his shirt off of his shoulders while peppering his skin with kisses.

"I should've shaved," he mumbled. 

"No," Calum assured him. "I like the chest hair," he whispered before scraping his teeth across his skin. 

Ashton moaned, his head rolling back as he concentrated on Calum's mouth and hands, his own fingers grasping the other man's messy black curls. He pushed Calum back against the couch, finding his mouth again and sucking on his bottom lip, electricity coursing between them. Music started playing out of nowhere and he was puzzled when Calum stopped kissing him and wrapped one arm around his waist to hold him in place while he fished his phone out of his pocket. 

Ashton frowned at the interruption and shifted his weight, sliding off his lap as Calum looked at him apologetically. "I'm really sorry, but it's Nicole. I think something's wrong." 

Ashton's annoyance was immediately replaced by concern. Calum reached over and squeezed his hand, giving him a smile as he answered the call. It was brief, and Ashton heard every word. Nicole wouldn't give details over the phone but Vanessa's school had called and there was to be a teacher-parent meeting the very next day. 

"I need you here. You need to be a part of this," she told him.

"I'm on my way," Calum replied without hesitation. He hung up, and Ashton could tell he was pissed and very worried.

"I hope everything is ok," he stood up and headed for the kitchen. 

"She's been having a problem with a girl at school. We thought putting her in private school would make her life easier, but these rich kids are nasty little shits. Where did you go?" Calum stood up and straightened his clothes. When he looked up, he was confused by Ashton's sudden disappearance. 

"I wanted to send you home with a doggy bag," Ashton replied, coming out of the kitchen with a paper bag in his hand. 

"I thought we ate most of it." Now Calum was really perplexed. 

He walked Calum to the door. "We did, but these are smaller versions I made for you to take home and cook yourself. I wrote instructions on a card that's in the bag, and there's a piece of flourless chocolate cake I made for dessert." He had to stop for a second and look away, suddenly shy at the way Calum was smiling at him. He took a breath and kept going. "I hate that you have to go, but it's sweet how much you care about your family. I had a really good time tonight, not just because of," he waved towards the couch, "you know, that. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. So maybe, I mean if you want to hang out sometime..." 

Calum reached out and brushed his thumb across Ashton's bottom lip. "You're so damn cute when you're nervous." Calum leaned down and gave him a soft kiss goodbye. "I want to take you on a date, a real one. I have to go, but I'll text you. Goodnight." Another kiss and he was gone. 

********

They were slow for lunch inside the restaurant. Daniel and Gloria were handling takeout, so Rafi and Hima were doing some extra prep for the weekend. She was helping make challah bread for brunch on Sunday when she spotted her boss gliding into work. She burst into laughter at Ashton's goofy grin despite the dark circles and bags under his eyes. Rafi saw him too and whistled and hooted until Ash flipped them both off and disappeared into his office. 

Twenty minutes later, Hima set a plate of cookies down on his desk. 

"We want you to try these. We're working on expanding catering to boxed lunches," she told him, sitting across from him. 

"We've been open less than a month," he told her, trying not to spit cookie crumbs everywhere.

"We're already doing decent business on takeout, so we're just floating ideas for new revenue streams as word of mouth gets going. The reviews have been glowing, and I've been monitoring social media. We've been getting good exposure so far. I've had some offers to trade a free meal for exposure, but nobody has been worth our time." 

Ashton nodded, as he'd learned long ago to trust her instincts. The cookies were perfect, absolutely delicious, but he knew that's not why she was in his office.

"How's my new stepfather? I've never seen you look so joyful, it's almost disturbing." Hima teased, but she was thrilled for him. Ashton deserved to be happy, and if she couldn't snuggle up to Calum “tall, dark, and handsome” Hood, having him as an in-law would work. Ashton took another big bite, chewing intently as if deep in thought. However, the blush creeping up his neck, not to mention the little hickey she spotted under his ear.

“So I take it the dinner went well. How was breakfast?" She asked, batting her eyes innocently.

"You're incorrigible, I swear," he laughed and leaned back in his chair. "He didn't stay the night. We kissed, but he got a phone call and had to leave." 

"That fucking sucks," Hima pouted.

"Tell me about it. It was just getting good when the phone rang," Ashton felt himself getting hard thinking about it.

"Oh God, your face right now. You're so lost. Were you in the kitchen? All Hallmark-movies-of-the-week style?" 

"No, I was straddling him on my couch if you may know," he told her just as she took a drink of water. 

She tried not to choke and succeeded in dribbling water down her chin as she sputtered. "The mental image I just got. I hate you, you know that right?" She wiped her face with a towel she pulled from her apron and then threw it at Ashton.

"He's really a great guy," Ashton giggled. "Have you watched him eat though?" 

"I know right, the faces," Hima almost yelled, catching herself and taking it down a notch. "I've never seen anything like it. Makes you wonder eh?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Seriously though, I'm really happy it worked out. You guys are gonna make such a cute couple. Now we have to find someone for me." 

"Why? Is Dakota not working out?" It was Ashton's turn to look innocent as he watched the comment land. 

Hima blinked rapidly before looking him straight in the eye. "I was not expecting that. How did you know?" She asked, but the answer came to her at the same time. "The cameras are on your phone. Am I fired?"

"Are you kidding? No, I'm just teasing, but yeah that caught me by surprise the other night," Ashton felt awful when she burst into tears. "You're not in trouble. Hima, look at me, we're friends. I'm not mad. I'm not going to tell your family." He came around the desk and pulled her out of her chair and into a hug.

Hima started to laugh, and he could feel her shaking in his arms. "Oh shit, sorry," she wiped away tears, as she eased away from him.. "I don't know why I reacted like that. I felt like my dad caught me lying and there was this rush of blind panic."

"I'm sorry, I was just fucking with you," Ashton didn't know what to say.

"I shouldn’t have done it, but I’m wanting to try things. But if I’m feeling guilty I can’t enjoy it.  Can I tell you?" Ashton nodded and she continued. "I met him on FetLife, more on that in a second. He's got a girlfriend, but he wanted to try something new. Maisie won't let me use her place to meet up when her roommate is there. I had fun, but I didn't feel good about it after so it's a one and done. Anyway, I'm pretty sure Calum is on FetLife. He has a pain kink, nipple clamps, and light bondage from what I saw on his profile.  I checked this morning and his profile was deleted. I'll send you the screenshot I took the first time. I don't know his tattoos, but you might." 

There was a loud knock at the door, and they both jumped. Rafi opened the door before Ashton could answer, and Hima was taken aback by how angry he looked. 

"You're not gonna believe this boss," Rafi said, a flush creeping up his neck. "Luke's here, he wants to see you." 

Ashton jumped up followed by Hima hot on his heels. Gloria stopped them in the kitchen, blocking Ashton's path as they began to go back and forth arguing in Spanish with Rafi and Daniel cutting into the conversation.

Hima was the only person in the room who hadn't come over from Lune Rouge and wasn't included in the conversation. She took advantage of the distraction to slip past them and out through the prep area to the bar. She was looking towards the hostess podium, not expecting him to be sitting two feet from her looking straight at her as she came through the swinging doors. She'd seen enough pictures to recognize him right away, but he was even better looking in person. His blue eyes were sad, and for a second she thought he’d been crying. He turned on the charm instantly, giving her his best smile and extending his hand. 

"I recognize you," he told her. "You're Hima, Ash's girl wonder. I've heard so many good things about you. I went to Johnson and Wales for a bit myself. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Hima instantly saw how Ashton had been so thoroughly bewitched by this man, and it amazed her that Luke had the balls to walk into their restaurant. She opened her mouth to tell him so when Ashton came out of the kitchen on the other side of the bar. Rafi came out and stood next to her behind the bar until Ashton glared at them and they ducked back inside.

"What do you want?" Ashton asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Listen, I didn't know how else to reach you," Like started.

"There's a reason for that. What do you want?" Ashton repeated the question.

"Can we sit down and talk, somewhere private? It's been so long" Luke whined, the sound grating on Ashton's nerves.

"Nope, I'm busy and I don't want you here. Please leave, don't contact me again," Ashton turned to go. 

"Wait its Mom," Luke played his ace card. "She had surgery. I'm worried about her." 

Ashton turned back around slowly, looking at Luke, who couldn't quite hide the triumphant smirk knowing he still had leverage over his ex. Ashton’s anger felt hollow now, not the gut-wrenching agonizing pain that once was there every day since he caught Luke cheating. It was gone, all of it. The realization was liberating. Knowing the seething hatred didn't follow him like a storm cloud, and the spell of attraction was irrefutably broken.  Ashton knew right then that he didn't love Luke anymore, and he couldn't ever get it back even if he wanted to. 

"Luke, your mom had her thyroid removed last Thursday. She's fine, we're having lunch next week. Get the fuck out of my restaurant," Ashton hissed.

Luke looked like he was going to start something, but Ashton stared him down, watching as he left the restaurant, got in his car, and drove away. He then pushed back through the kitchen doors, past everyone without a word, locked himself in his office, sat in his chair, and wept for almost an hour. The adrenaline rush of seeing Luke, the relief of knowing it was done, needed a release. When he was finished, he cleaned up a bit and finished the cookies Hima had left on his desk. There were a couple of text messages on his phone. The first was from Hima 

You ok boss? 

Never been better, I'll be out in a bit

Under that was Calum

Can't wait to see you again but I have to go out of town tomorrow. There's an event at the observatory for the meteor shower so I'll be up in the mountains. Let me pick you up Monday afternoon if you don't have to work

He did have to work, but Hima was off and she'd switch with him for this. 

Sounds good, let me know what time

I can't wait 😉 I wanna pick up where we left off before we were interrupted. I'm almost at school. I have to go to the principal's office, some things never change. Looking forward to Monday

Ashton read the message, not knowing how he was going to stand the anticipation. He got up to find Hima. e could not work Monday. This was too important. 

*********

Calum pulled into the parking spot, looking up at Ashton's building. He sent a text letting him know he was outside. As he waited, Calum glanced into the backseat at the picnic basket full of goodies Hima had helped him select. He'd sent her an email on his way out of town headed to where he would have little to no cell service. There was a little park that, if you knew how to wind through a subdivision full of dead-end and one-way streets, was about twenty minutes away from Calum's house. There was a duck pond next to a jacaranda tree that he'd always thought would be perfect for a date. He glanced up at the cloudy sky praying the weather held throughout the day. 

Calum wiped his palms on his jeans and took a deep breath. He'd been looking forward to this all weekend, even sitting in the observatory atop Mt Hamilton watching shooting stars streak across the sky. He'd been impatient to get back to Ashton. Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered.  The lyrics to a song he hadn't heard in over a decade bubbled up into his brain, taking him back to his grandmother in Scotland cleaning her kitchen and singing along to the FM radio above her sink. 

I'm wild again, beguiled again. Gran always told his sister to "find a brawny lad who can make you laugh and works hard." Calum grinned, watching Ashton emerge from his building wearing a green, long-sleeved Henley shirt and black skinny jeans that clung to his physique. Brawny lad indeed.

Calum turned the music down when Ashton opened the car door and climbed in. He was completely caught off guard when the other man handed him a small bundle from behind his back. Calum looked at the small bunch of plants tied together with kitchen twine and a small ribbon. 

"You brought me flowers?" He asked, feeling his face get warm. "That's so thoughtful." Calum's throat was tight, and he knew he was blushing crimson. He smiled at Ashton, trying not to get too emotional. He focused on the bouquet which allowed him to take a second to regain his composure. As he did, he realized this was unlike any bouquet he'd seen before. "Are these from your garden?" 

"Yeah," Ashton giggled, giddy and nervous. He shifted in his seat. He pointed to the small purple flowers on one. "These are chive blossoms, sage, and thyme." His fingers brushed the delicate white bell shaped blossoms. "Sweet marjoram, and this is borage, both great additions to a salad or stew. I added some daisies and rosemary for color and fragrance. I'm glad you like them." Calum looked up and Ashton looked away, shy again. 

"If you're trying to impress me, it's working. I love them, thank you," he said brushing his fingers along the back of Ashton's hand. He reached behind his seat and grabbed a handful of napkins and a cup out of the picnic supplies. He carefully wrapped up the little bundle and placed it in the cup. "We should get going before the weather turns on us." 

"Where are we going?" Ashton asked, buckling his seatbelt.

"It's a surprise," Calum winked at him. 

"How was the meteor shower?" Ashton asked.

"Out of this world," Calum shot back and they both erupted into laughter.

Ashton leaned back in his seat, watching Calum's face as he concentrated on getting through a construction zone. His eyes landed on a small faint bruise on Calum's neck. He felt his cock twitch in his pants at the memory of leaving the mark, knowing he had every intention of leaving more later tonight. 

 Calum glanced over, and this time Ashton didn't look away, instead giving him a wink and a sly smile before Calum had to tear his eyes away to focus on the road. He gasped when Ashton reached over and put a hand on his knee. Ashton jerked his hand back at the sound, but Calum caught it. He gave him a squeeze then placed Ashton's hand on his leg again, slightly higher than before. 

"Almost there, this place is a maze, but it's a nice quiet park," Calum made a series of turns and Ashton spotted the park up ahead. They passed the first parking lot near a playground where several kids were running around before making another turn and parking in a smaller lot. 

Calum got out and walked to the back of the Rover. Ashton came around right as he was opening the hatch. 

"What can I carry?" Ashton asked. 

Calum frowned and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had his phone set to only allow for two numbers to ring through.

 Ashton's heart sank watching Calum's expression. Please not another family emergency.  He felt guilty, but he wanted Calum all to himself today. 

"It's my mom, she's probably calling to chat but I have to answer. Give me just a second, I'm so sorry," Calum apologized. 

Ashton nodded and smiled, hoping it was nothing serious. "I'm a Mama's boy too," he reminded him. "I'll look around a bit." 

Ashton wandered off towards a lovely pond where he spotted a family of ducks swimming together. There was a tree overlooking the pond giving off shade and a little privacy.  He heard Calum laugh and say his goodbyes to his mom, and he was relieved to see everything was fine. The ducks quacked out a warning before turning and swimming in the other direction. He started to turn back to go help Calum unload the car when the first raindrop hit his nose. Ashton looked up as it started to sprinkle. As he headed back towards the parking lot the drizzle increased to a soft steady rain.  Then a streak of lightning split the sky with a deafening crack causing Ashton to almost jump out of his skin at the incredible noise. Unfortunately, this caused him to lose his footing and slip on the wet grass. He crashed hard into the ground and fell again when he tried to get up. Calum hurried over and reached Ashton just as he struggled to his feet, his left side streaked with mud and grass clippings sticking to his skin and hair. 

"Are you ok?" Calum reached out to steady him. 

"Yeah let's get out of here," Ashton snapped. "Sorry, I'm not mad at you." 

"It's fine, really," Calum opened his door for him before going to his side and getting in. "We'll go to my house, I live ten minutes from here." 

Ashton hesitated, not wanting to dirty up Calum's car, getting soaked standing there. 

"It's fine," Calum reassured him. 

Ashton thought for a second and then pulled his shirt, which got the worst of the mud, off over his head, wrung it out as best he could, tossed it on the rubber floor mat, and got in. 

Calum turned the car on and flipped the heat on low so Ashton wouldn't get chilled. He wanted to say something, make small talk, anything as they drove in silence. 

"I'm sorry about that," he began.

"Why? Rain is rain, it's not your fault. I might need to borrow your shower though. The grass is starting to itch," Ashton reached over and put his hand on Calum's knee again. Calum pulled it a little higher, and Ashton responded by sliding his hand all the way up Calum's thigh as far as he could go without actually touching his dick. Calum didn't say a word but Ashton smiled as he heard the sharp intake of breath and felt the car accelerate in response. 

They pulled up to a small bungalow at the end of a winding road as the rain started to pick up. Calum grabbed the basket and handed Ashton a bag and they both made a dash for the front door. They were greeted by Brutus barking and bouncing on his back legs at the sight of Ashton. Calum was stunned when the little dog launched himself at the newcomer’s ankles, immediately flipping over for a belly rub. 

"Somebody's friendly," Ashton cooed, leaning down to pet him.

"Not usually," Calum told him. "I'll get set up in here. Follow me, I'll show you where the shower is." He walked down the hall, Ashton and Brutus trailing behind him. He stopped at a closet and grabbed a couple of towels before opening another door. "This is the bathroom. I've got a couple different kinds of body wash, use whatever you need and I'll find you something dry to change into. You want a t-shirt or button up? Pants or shorts?" Calum asked trying not to gawk at Ashton's bare chest. 

Ashton shrugged. "Something that's comfortable and easy to take off sounds good. It won't take long. It's not safe but I've gotta rinse off."  The lights flickered and they both looked up. 

"You'd better hurry. I'll leave the clothes outside the door," Calum told him before leaning in for a quick kiss. 

Ashton frowned when he pulled back but Calum winked and disappeared into his bedroom across the hall. Ashton was tempted to follow but he needed to stop itching first.

*******

Ashton was halfway down the hall when the lights went out. He'd changed into the pajama pants and t-shirt Calum left hanging on the doorknob. He followed a soft glow until he found himself in the living room. Calum had set up some food in a spread on the coffee table, but he was nowhere to be seen. Ashton sat down on the couch and began to nibble on some strawberries when he heard a door slam and Calum came out wearing similar drawstring pants and a black shirt fully unbuttoned so the candlelight reflected off his bare chest making him look like a golden god. 

"Oh hey, that was quick. I didn't know how hungry you were so I put the cold stuff in the fridge. I thought you might want to have a drink first. I have wine." 

"Sounds good, we can eat later. I'm not really thinking about food right now," Ashton replied, food the furthest thing from his mind. 

Calum sat down next to him, handing him a glass of red wine. Ashton took a sip and recognized it as a German ice wine he loved that was not easy to come by. 

"How did you know? How did you find it so quickly?" Ashton looked up in disbelief. 

"My wife called your wife about the feature and next thing I know I've got a box on my doorstep with this wine and some salami I've never heard of. There was also a caramel brownie cake that looks like it's gonna go straight to my hips. I did my own research for the rest of it.  I know this date isn't going exactly how I wanted it to, but I wanted to make things special. At least the food will be good," Calum sighed.

"You didn't have to do all that," Ashton told him.

"Yeah I did," Calum responded. "You really went all out the other day. Everyone I’ve talked to while writing this feature has gone on and on about how kind and generous you are. You’re always put so much effort into other people and you deserve to have someone make that kind of effort for you. You're so warm and caring, and funny too. Anyone who doesn't see how special you are is an idiot," Calum stopped talking, afraid he'd said too much. He took a big gulp of wine only looking up when Ashton reached over to take the glass from his hand. He set both their glasses on the table and turned back to Calum. 

Without a word, Calum reached for him pulling him onto his lap, Ashton's knees on either side of his hips. Ashton slid Calum's shirt off his shoulders as their lips met with a heated urgency. Calum nipped Ashton's bottom lip before their tongues tangled. Ashton pulled back and grazed his teeth and tongue down Calum's throat. His long fingers traced around Cal's dark nipples before giving them a sharp tug. Calum grunted and bucked underneath him in response making Ashton try it again. Leaving slow sucking kisses down his neck pinching the stiff rosy buds after each one as Calum began to grind his erection up against Ashton. Breathy cries escaped his lips as he got more aroused, more desperate. 

Calum was tugging at the drawstring on Ashton's pants and slipping past the waistband. His hand closed around Ashton's length and he moaned in anticipation.  It was bigger than he expected and thicker than anything Calum had imagined outside of porn and his wildest dreams.

"Let me suck you off," Calum begged as Ashton continued to mark up his neck. 

Ashton shook his head, his soft curls brushing against Calum's jaw. 

"Can't let that happen, sweetheart," Ashton answered, barely lifting his lips from the patchwork of red welts and slight purple bruises. "I'll cum too fast if I let you put those pretty lips around my cock. I've thought about it so many times." 

Calum shivered as much from the heat of the other man's breath on his skin as the words he'd said. 

"Mmmm I like that," Calum hissed. He arched his back as Ashton's head dipped lower, sucking a trail down his chest and latching onto his nipple. "I've wanted this, need you, Ash." 

Ashton pushed hard against Calum's chest and stood up. Calum whined at the sudden lack of contact,  his kiss swollen lips pursing into a pout. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking up at Ashton who was peeling off his shirt revealing his lean physique, chest heaving with a sheen of sweat, tattooed flames peeking out underneath his ribs. Calum started to get up but Ashton stopped him. 

"Nothing's wrong, everything is perfect," Ashton told him, bending down for a quick kiss. "I wanted to take my time but hearing you moan my name like that is too much. Slide your pants down, let me taste you."  Ashton carefully moved the table back far enough they wouldn't bump anything as things got crazy. 

"Oh God," Calum gasped as Ashton kneeled between his thighs, tugging impatiently as he raised his hips and kicked his shorts off.

Ashton licked around the tip of Calum's cock feeling it twitch seeking his mouth. Calum reached for him but Ashton pinned his hands beside him on the couch. "Not yet," Ashton teased, fluttering the tip of his tongue along the ridge. 

"Oh fuck Ashton, please," Calum's eyes rolled back and his jaw dropped open as Ashton took him all the way down his throat. He had to concentrate to keep himself from exploding right then.  Calum tried to squirm away but there was nowhere to go. Ashton let up instantly.

"Are you ok? Do you want me to stop?" Ashton's hazel eyes were searching Calum's face.

Calum grabbed Ashton's hand and placed it in his inner thigh. "I don't want you to ever stop. I'm just trying not to bust too soon." 

Ashton grinned and leaned forward. His mouth hovered just above Calum's shaft, close enough he could reach out with the tip of his tongue, if he wanted to. 

"Don't want that to happen do we?" Ashton smirked, grasping the base of Calum's shaft applying pressure just above the balls and pulling it back away from Calum's stomach. 

"Keep doing that," Calum moaned, waiting until the pressure turned to slight pain. "Let go, let go," he cried and Ashton released his grip letting his dick spring back, slapping against his stomach. "Fuck babe, do that again," Calum whined, pulling his nipples his dark eyes intensely focused on Ashton.

Ashton flushed under Calum's stare feeling the knot in his stomach twist with desire as Calum moaned with each stroke, each release. They were both sweating now, the dim light giving Calum's broad chest as Ashton pushed up and met Calum's lips for a kiss. 

Ashton stood up looking down at Calum seated on the couch. Reaching down he cupped his hand around the massive bulge straining against his pants before pushing his hips towards Calum's face. His dark bushy eyebrows raised in a smirk Calum began to tease Ashton with nips and sucking kisses.  Ashton hissed at the feeling of teeth grazing his shaft through the flannel. Calum groaned against him as Ashton impatiently slithered the waistband down past his hips. Calum's mouth was on him in a flash, lips parted and taking him down past the back of his throat resisting the urge to gag around his length. Ashton cried out as his hands tangled in Calum's soft curls leaning his weight against Calum to keep his knees from shaking. 

Calum looked up at the man hovering over him, their eyes met and the need intensified. Ashton bent down for a kiss as Calum's hands reached up pulling his hips down once more. In between the flurry of passionate kisses and hands roaming and grasping desperately to feel as much of the other’s skin against their own Calum could barely gasp out the words.

"How do you want me?" 

Ashton's head spun at the sound of the words. He'd imagined this so many times, gotten himself off so many times thinking about this moment. Now that it was here he didn't hesitate to answer.

"I wanna ride you until you cum for me," Ashton told him.

Calum looked shocked and Ashton started to explain, "normally I'm a top but with you I thought-" 

He couldn't finish the sentence before Calum stopped him with a kiss. "Don't have to explain. I wanna try everything you wanna try. Let me grab something really quickly," Calum helped Ashton shift so he could get up. He grabbed a towel and pulled open the drawer on the coffee table where he'd stashed lube and condoms just in case. Ashton chuckled but his breath caught in his throat as Calum turned back towards him. Fully nude, the candlelight cast a golden glow across Calum's chest and thighs as he walked back towards the couch, sliding the condom on with a stroke and Ashton couldn't remember anything sexier.  They settled back on the couch with Ashton straddling Calum his knees on either side of his hips. Calum moved his hand down as Ashton raised his hips as Cal's fingers moved past Ashton's balls to tease his tight hole. 

Ashton sighed and relaxed back against Calum feeling himself being spread open as he worked another couple of fingers in. When Ashton had gotten used to the stretch he began to rock his hips impatiently and wanting more. Calum chuckled against Ashton's chest as Ashton took the lube from him and made sure Calum's cock was nice and slick before easing the head of it into his eager entrance. Calum held his breath, clenching his stomach and thighs to hold still while Ashton carefully worked Calum's length inside him. The pain gave way to a throbbing ache as Ashton began to rock his hips. Calum was thick, so he felt the most delicious stretch. Calum's hands roamed everywhere. He ran his nails along Ashton's thighs, stroking over the phoenix tattoo on his ribcage, and grazed through Ashton's chest hair before tugging at his necklace. Ashton's hips moved faster as he leaned back to balance his hands on Calum's thighs. Calum wrapped his hand around Ashton's cock matching thrust in time. There were no words needed as they moved together moans and groans punctuated with the occasional soft little sigh because it just felt so good.��

Calum's hips bucked and he knew he couldn't hold back much longer. Not with the way Ashton was bouncing on him now, his thighs pumping as he sought his own climax. Ashton leaned forward whimpering into Calum's neck, nuzzling and nibbling. His tempo increased, his nails dug into Calum's scalp and his long fingers pulled his curls. Calum kept one hand on Ashton's shaft while the other clutched Ashton's hip spurring him on. 

A growl ripped from Ashton's chest as his orgasm exploded from his core shooting electricity through every nerve ending in his body. Calum felt him erupt between their bodies spilling through his fingers and onto his chest. Ashton clenched around Calum's cock sending him crashing into ecstasy as Ashton's hips stuttered and jerked, milking every drop from Calum as he thrust up into Ashton, his eyes rolling back in his head. Ashton sat up pulling Calum's head into his chest, Calum's arms wrapped around Ashton's waist as they traded breaths and their heartbeats slowed back down. Ashton eased himself off Calum causing both of them to groan a little at the lack of contact.

Calum got up and staggered into the kitchen to throw the condom away and wash his hands.  He came back with a bottle of water for each of them, flipping the spout up before handing it over.  Ashton sat up and guzzled the entire bottle as Calum grabbed the towel wiping himself off quickly and tossing it on the couch.  Ashton excused himself to clean up and when he came back Calum had moved the table back by the couch and was munching on a cluster of grapes. 

"Sorry, but I'm always hungry after sex," Calum looked sheepish and Ashton noticed he hadn't bothered to get dressed yet. Not that I'm complaining.  Ashton ran his hand up Calum's thigh as he settled next to him on the couch. 

"Don't apologize," Ashton gave him a wink. "You need to get your strength back for round two." 

"Oh yeah?" Calum raised his eyebrows and bit into the fruit, letting the juices dribble down his chin. 

"Keep looking at me like that and see what happens," Ashton smirked but he was hungry too. 

Calum pulled a throw blanket and some cushions on to the floor so they could stretch out.  Ashton poured more wine while Calum grabbed the food out of the fridge. Ashton's mouth watered when he saw the espresso baked brie and the spinach croquettes. Calum had done his homework and Ashton was incredibly touched by the effort. 

Calum sat down with his back against the couch and Ashton propped himself up at a slight angle to him, close enough to touch, with the food places between them, their legs stretched out and tangled together. They ate in comfortable silence exchanging smiles and glances between bites. They found little ways to touch each other, unable to keep their hands off each other. Calum fed Ashton a bite of chocolate only to find the other man's lips pressed to the inside of his wrist. Ashton wiping crumbs off Calum's bottom lip before finding his thumb captured between Cal's teeth.  Calum laughed and started to say something but Ashton had spaced out on him. 

"What's on your mind?" Calum cringed when he realized he'd spoken out loud. 

"I'm trying not to think about things too much, it's never a good idea," Ashton admitted. He was already in too deep, whether he said it out loud or not.

Calum pulled Ashton in close,  folding the other man into his arms so his head was resting just above Calum's heart. Ashton closed his eyes, listened to the rhythm, and the rise and fall of Calum's chest. 

"I know what you mean. This is going to sound corny but I feel like I should be nervous, I'm not though. I really like you and I'm not going to try to find something wrong. I'm too excited to see what happens next." Calum finished his thought with a string of kisses along Ashton's hairline before adding," I have to Venmo Hima  $100 before I forget." 

Ashton pulled back laughing, he grabbed his phone off the table. "I can't say shit, she pulled the same scam on me." 

Calum laughed and leaned forward to get his phone as well. Ashton eyed Calum's bare ass noticing the slight tan line just above his hips. Calum saw his expression and wiggled his hips. "Like what you see?" Calum's tone was playful but Ashton could see his dick getting hard again. 

"I will take you right here Hood," Ashton growled reaching for a condom. 

Calum's phone rang, it was Hima on FaceTime. 

"Answer it, I dare you," Ashton pulled Calum onto his back and placed his hands on the back of Calum's thighs. 

"Hima, what's up?" As soon as Calum answered the call he felt Ashton's tongue teasing between his cheeks. He fought to keep a straight face as he told Hima about the disaster in the park despite Ashton probing and licking against his hole. Aston buried his tongue and Calum ended the call without saying goodbye and tossed his phone to the side. 

Ashton made Calum beg to be fucked before he finally relented and replaced his tongue with the head of his dick. Ashton kept Calum's knees to his chest as he took his time easing his cock into Calum's ass, adding lube as he went. Calum had never been with anyone this big and he pulled his own nipples as Ashton stretched him as far as he could go. The thrill of the pain was unlike anything Calum had experienced and Ashton made him beg before he pushed further. Calum gasped as Ashton bottomed out, seeing his arms flex as he held himself in place, the light reflecting off the red blood moon tattoos and bold black star. Ashton moved his hips, barely pulling out and rocking against his ass to hit a spot deep inside him that Calum never knew existed. The surprised moan that filled the room spurred Ashton to maintain that control, giving long slow deep strokes, and hitting that spot each time. 

Calum's hand closed around his dick, trying to keep from cumming before he was ready. Ashton switched positions, biceps curling around Calum's thick thighs as they moved together, chasing their climax together. 

Calum arched his back, his spine contracting and releasing slamming his hips against the floor. Ashton rutted his hips, pushing deeper into Calum. His vision blurred as Calum's name fell from his lips. Calum cried out underneath him and Ashton watched Calum's release spattering his chest and stomach with white streaks. Ashton collapsed on top of him shaking uncontrollably as he came undone. 

"Oh my God Ashton, that was incredible," Calum whispered when he found his voice again. They untangled from each other, both sticky and sleepy, overheated from exertion. 

Calum made sure the candles were blown up and there was nothing left out that could hurt Brutus before he led Ashton into the bathroom where they fumbled around in the shadows taking turns rinsing each other off and exchanging clumsy kisses.  Calum took them into his bedroom, pulling the covers down on the bed as the electric came back on. The AC started with a whoosh turning the room chilly very quickly. They scrambled under the covers quickly, fighting for the covers and giggling like little kids. There was a bit of awkward positioning before they ended up laying face to face unable to stop staring at each other, chatting for what seemed like hours, hands, and legs intertwined before they finally dozed off.

**********

When Ashton woke up he was alone in a strange bed. The smell of Calum tickled his senses and the bed was still warm. There was a light shining from the hallway. He listened and heard tiny scraping sounds coming towards him before a small dog burst into the room and launched himself on the bed. Brutus attacked Ashton with doggy kisses as Calum followed him into the room. 

"Brutus, get down," Calum scolded him. "Sorry about that. He needed to go out and I was trying not to wake you." 

"What time is it?" Ashton looked around for his phone. 

"It's a little after midnight, I can drive you home if you need to go," Calum offered, unable to hide his sudden disappointment.

"There's nowhere else I want to be, come back to bed," Ashton yawned and stretched out. 

Calum slid under the covers, cuddling into Ashton's body heat, Brutus curled up on the duvet between them. Calum rested his head against his shoulder and Ashton's fingers aimlessly snaked through Calum's soft dark curls. The rain began again as they drifted off to dream together.

@sublimehood​​​ @tea4sykes​​​ @be-ready-when-i-say-go​​ @scribblesos​​​ @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​​​ @wildmichaelflower​​​ @castaway-cashton​​​ @damselindistressanu​​​ @notinthesameguey​​​ @cashtonasfuck​​ @irwinkitten​​ @mermaidcashton​​​ @malumsmermaid​​​

[indiavolojones]

Diavolo glances at his employer for the night, corners of his mouth turning up in a lazy smile at the other's presence.

“You’re still here?” Lucifer asks, standing by the side of the grand piano with his own glass, looking out into the crowd, “Your set is over. I’m not going to pay you for an encore.” 

alternate summary: classy lounge owner lucifer flirts with pianist diavolo! hahaha, you thought dialuci hour was over? think again, baybeeee.

2kish words, G, dialuci, #swanky lounges are tres sexy, y’all.

this fic is served best with some soft jazz and idk, maybe imagine a sepia tone over everything?

-

As the final notes of his song fade, a hand sets a glass of amber colored liquor on the folded lid of the piano. 

(On a coaster, of course. The beautifully made and maintained grand piano is easily worth $80,000 and Diavolo is doing well in his field, but not that well.) 

The hand belongs to none other than Lucifer, infamous owner of The Fall, the swankiest lounge in town, and for the last two hours of Diavolo's set, his boss. Diavolo glances at his employer for the night, corners of his mouth turning up in a lazy smile at the other's presence. 

“You’re still here?” Lucifer asks, discreetly polishing an imagined scuff on the pristine surface of the piano, “Your set is over. I’m not going to pay you for an encore.” 

In a sharp suit befitting his status, Lucifer is always dressed to the nines when he’s at work. The man is devastating to look upon, cutting a striking image as he looks out into the crowd. Honestly, Diavolo doesn’t think he’s seen Lucifer in anything less than a sports jacket… 

But he’d like to. 

(Maybe a cardigan. Oh, he’d love that.) 

Diavolo hums a few notes from the song still ringing in his head, the soft melody tapped into the rim of the glass. 

“And yet you’re buying me drinks?” Diavolo grins, an ungodly amount of satisfaction on his face from the almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of Lucifer’s mouth. He’s not sure if it’s a frown or a smile, but it’s something. 

“If I’m getting a free show, I can probably afford to offer my musicians a drink or two." Lucifer says — dismissively, as if his standing near Diavolo is not a result of the unavoidable attraction between them, Lucifer drawn to Diavolo like Diavolo is drawn to him. Diavolo cocks a brow as Lucifer realizes his choice of phrasing.

“A free show –” Diavolo’s flirtatious tone is badly concealed as he speaks, interrupted by Lucifer's curt growl.

“Don’t.” 

Lucifer would be glaring at him, Diavolo is sure, if not for the casual bustle of the lounge’s patrons. In lieu of an answer that would likely get him kicked out, he raises the glass to his occasional employer, bringing the crystalline glass to his lips. 

The burn of the vapours numbing his mouth is familiar, almost like an old friend that still likes to roughhouse, but what really sticks out to Diavolo is the flavor. 

Diavolo’s not a whiskey connoisseur by any means, but he’s had enough of a variety of cheap and disgustingly expensive liquor in his life that he can tell immediately. Vanilla. Caramel. Dried fruit. Woody spice. A smoothness as he savors it in his mouth, licks the drops of it off his lips. Jack Daniel's tastes like sickly sweet maple syrup in comparison to the several drams of high quality liquor swirling around his glass. 

It's a damn good liquor, aged at least ten years, if his hunch is correct. Top shelf. Easily.

Diavolo glances down at it, something warm like the whiskey (but not quite the same) settling in his belly. 

Diavolo knows he shouldn't comment on it. He shouldn't tease Lucifer over a glass of what is likely a thirty dollar (at least!) glass of beautifully aged whiskey, because then Lucifer will abruptly stop as if he’s gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar. Lucifer is a successful business owner, he has the means to be generous like this if he so chooses… 

But that's just it. If he so chooses. 

Diavolo loves that he chose to do it. For Diavolo! He could shout that off the rooftops, he’s so damn elated. 

Lucifer isn’t the type to spoil his employees in such a way – or his family, honestly. Lucifer’s a tough love kinda guy, and Diavolo’s definitely about that. He has to focus on not letting his stupid heart work itself into overdrive with delight that Lucifer is spoiling him so, after months of toeing the line between amusing himself by riling up a hot guy and not getting fired by his most lucrative gig. 

The universe both helps out, and ruins it all, with the nearby distraction of someone lighting a cigarette, harsh smoke filtering into the air. 

The acrid smell of it makes Lucifer’s nose twitch with displeasure – ah right, he’s been in the process of trying to quit smoking for pretty much as long as Diavolo’s known him. It must be hard when Lucifer’s in charge of a place that actively allows smoking indoors but… Lucifer has more willpower than most people Diavolo knows. 

The action does, however, seem to break the moment between them, jarring Lucifer out of the suspended tension of their chat. Diavolo stifles the flare of disappointment as Lucifer clears his throat, gaze flitting away as he sips from his own glass. Unwilling to let the conversation fade into awkwardness, Diavolo sets his glass back down on the coaster. 

“Well, I’ve got nothing else to do tonight but drink myself silly at your overpriced bar, so…” 

Diavolo stretches his arms up in the air and rolls his neck side to side, ignoring Lucifer’s scoff at overpriced. After an exaggerated shaking out of his hands, he places them back on the keys, before glancing once more at Lucifer, “Kick me out whenever your next musician is ready to go, yeah?” 

“Of course,” Lucifer hums, but there’s a slight quirk to his mouth when he heads back into the crowd. 

His departure is followed by the beginning notes of a song Diavolo makes up on the spot, inspired by Lucifer’s long fingers wrapped around clear crystal, and by the soft bite of the whiskey on his lips.

-

-

-

He plays the entire night, despite Lucifer’s loud denouncement of any further pay since his set is technically over.

Lucifer probably has another musician booked to cover the last few hours of the night, but no one disturbs Diavolo, lost in the mindless melody dancing over the keys. It is no hardship for Diavolo, especially when Lucifer requests no set playlist from him. Their clientele doesn’t seem to have a preference or notice, too caught up in being rich bastards, most likely. 

Diavolo loves his craft; he loves music more than anything else in his life. There’s something else here, something about his desire to mash the new and the old, to bring life into the classics – he hasn’t told Lucifer about this yet, but he thinks Lucifer would understand. Lucifer’s hired him more than once, so Diavolo knows that Lucifer likes how he plays at least. Diavolo wouldn’t have crossed over that threshold into The Fall a second time if Lucifer hadn’t been impressed with his skills.

Lucifer may look like the stereotypical hot, repressed business type, but Lucifer owns a jazz lounge. 

Sure, it’s swanky and pretentious as hell, and all of the drinks are stupid overpriced if you ask him – but jazz, at its heart, is filled with an inescapable, overwhelming joie de vivre that makes the countless hours of practice worth it. 

Diavolo knows that it’s late, probably around two in the morning.  In his peripherals, he noticed the patrons progressively filter out in their expensive suits and shiny cocktail dresses, swaying with contentment from the good food, great drinks, and even greater musical accompaniment. He doesn’t have a watch and, because he’s a professional, his phone is somewhere at the bottom of his backpack in the employee break room, but he keeps playing anyway, simply because it’s easy for him to do so.

Lucifer shows up again, probably wondering how to kick Diavolo out so that no patrons try to linger past closing to listen to his music. Diavolo senses his presence lingering at the edges of the small performance floor, but allows himself to lean into his music rather than acknowledge Lucifer. 

With Lucifer there, Diavolo blatantly puts on a bigger show. 

A performer through and through, Diavolo likes to add a flourish to his performances regardless, but with Lucifer standing at the edge of the polished wooden floor that separates the performer’s area from the general floor, he bumps the obnoxiousness up a few levels. 

Slow, sustained notes are held longer for the effect, hands moving fluidly as they sweep over the keys. He curls his shoulders in, curls them out, sways as if the music is guiding him, instead of the other way around. Tilts his head back, exposing the long line of his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone in a way that tends to make the older women in the crowd breathless and… 

Lucifer lets him, which is the funniest thing of them all, really. 

(He’s been so indulgent with Diavolo lately. He’ll get spoiled if Lucifer keeps this up.)

Gracious man that he is, he allows Diavolo to finish his song, a mindless melody led by his bold, sure right hand, gratuitous ease as his left hand follows instinctively. He switches his chords from the first inversion, to the second, never following a set decision and only choosing what feels right at the moment. 

He’ll never play this song the same way again, and he’s glad that Lucifer is there to hear it. 

“I hear you’ve got a lovely voice.” Diavolo says, once his foot lifts off the sustain pedal, notes fading. Diavolo turns to Lucifer, who seems (well, he’s stoic, but it’s Lucifer, so it’s subtle) surprised. 

“Like an angel.”

“Who told you that?” Lucifer asks, likely already narrowing down the suspects in his head. It’s Mammon, obviously, but Diavolo won’t throw him under the bus and Lucifer will figure it out anyway. Diavolo tries for a mysterious smile, and Lucifer tchs under his breath.

“Mammon.” Lucifer says, but Diavolo mumbles I plead the fifth with his hands held up placatingly, sending an unspoken prayer to the heavens for Mammon’s fate. It really wasn’t his fault, Diavolo’s just nosy.

“You should perform for your customers one day, they’d love it. I can be your accompanist.” Shifting gears, Diavolo leans back on the bench, one hand propping himself up on the edge of it as he tilts his head invitingly at Lucifer. “I’ll even give you a returning employer discount for my services.” 

Lucifer quirks one regal, haughty eyebrow, and Diavolo is startled with the sudden urge to kiss the arch of it. 

“An accompanist.” Lucifer says, a master at saying few words for maximum effect, “You.” His gaze flutters to Diavolo’s hands, clear disbelief that Diavolo could ever manage to behave. They seem to linger longer than intended, and Diavolo’s so, so glad he rolled up his sleeves a few hours ago. 

Diavolo allows himself to look mock-offended, pressing one hand to his chest, “You doubt me?” 

“I have always been under the assumption that being an accompanist means to follow someone else’s lead. Are you saying that you’d be amenable to that?”

It’s a clear reference to Diavolo’s fluid style of playing, loose in structure but full of excitement. Diavolo’s music denies what’s written on the sheet music, instead seeking out chaos and harmony in equal shares. An accompanist, traditionally, is not as much of a wild card as Diavolo’s style advertises. 

The laugh that bubbles from Diavolo’s chest is warm, inviting, and it shakes his shoulders with mirth. It holds him hostage for a bit, until it mellows out into a chuckle. He wipes at an invisible (read: nonexistent, for dramatic effect) tear from under his eye. 

“You got me,” Diavolo huffs, before allowing him to fully take in the sight of Lucifer at the end of a long night, the weary look in his eyes of someone that still has plenty of work to do. Lucifer should take more time off, Diavolo thinks, having an inkling of what Lucifer’s hectic schedule tends to look like. Maybe he just needs to blow off some steam.

“Maybe there just hasn’t been someone I’d like to take charge,” Diavolo settles on, words heavy with an offer, but vague enough to lend a way out. He turns to look back at the piano, lightly dragging his fingers along white keys in a soft, half-attempted glissando, but the smile still plays at his lips. 

Silence. 

Willing himself to not look up, Diavolo tries to catch Lucifer’s reaction in the polished black grand’s reflection. Of course, it’s a piano, and only offers a blurry, warped image that shows he hasn’t immediately run away at an obviously charged offer.  

“And there is now?” Lucifer asks. 

-

The liquor Lu serves Dia is a macallan 18yo triple cask single malt whiskey which is a fun $261 USD per bottle! don’t think too hard about my descriptions of jazz, i got lazy.

[hecohansen31]

Never Too Much Champagne:

Duncan Shepherd+Female! Reader+Fallon Carrington.

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

So... I am not going to be at home in the weekend, but I’ll be away, which is going to be nice... I hope (I low key need relax), but I thought I’d still share a little fic with you.

This is a personal ‘thank you’ to @melodylangdon for her support to my favorite rich OT3, Fallon, Duncan and Reader and who made the beautiful moodboard here (this is like one of my favorite things ever, and I got a lot of inspiration from it), but THANK YOU AGAIN!

It meant the world for me!

(Also I am tagging @wickedlangdon because she is also a fan of this OT3)

So I hope you’ll enjoy this little one!

WARNINGS: Sex, Strap-On Action (also in these cases it is suggested to wear a condom, better be safe than sorry), Oral Sex (Male & Female Receiving), Fingering, Dirty Talk, Daddy/Mommy Kink, Use of Champagne (please don’t use this fic as a tutorial for Champagne Sex, food/liquid, unless stated, SHOULD NEVER BE USED FOR INTERNAL USE, this is a fic and it is Duncan Shepherd/Fallon Carrington, but avoid it in reality).

You knew perfectly that Adam’s accidental slip wasn’t so accidental.

But you hadn’t protested or made a scene and had simply excused yourself to the ladies-restroom to dab away the excessive champagne on your newest dress, a gift of Fallon, since it had made her think of you.

Meanwhile you were in the bathroom, you heard its door being opened without too much thought about knocking or courtesy, immediately making you realize that it was Fallon, coming up to you with a few muffled excuses.

“I’d like to say that he is that way because he was adopted, but… that isn’t true as much as I wish it” she mumbled, coming to softly try to collect the excessive champagne from your drenched dress, since Adam had fallen onto an entire tray of champagne, which had then fallen onto you.

“… don’t talk about adoption with Duncan, it’s a touchy subject, you muttered lightly, knowing all too well that Fallon was fresh to your own relationship.

You saw her immediately biting her lips as if she kind of wanted to take back the words, but nodded softly, continuing the useless job onto your dress, probably just a simple excuse to continue on touching your body, highlighted by the drenched fabric.

To which you had no objections.

“Ahh, it’s such a shame that dumb-dumber decided to ruin this dress, you almost looked as pretty as me” joked Fallon, falling back to admire you, which made you smirk lightly, as you adjusted your hair, avoiding them to touch your champagne drenched neck.

“… almost as pretty as you?” you pumped out your leg through the slit of the dress, giving Fallon a good look of it, ending up and being even more enhanced by the pair of golden Jimmy Choo you had been wearing.

You smirked at her dumbfounded expression.

But you were also soon surprised as the bathroom door opened again, and before Fallon could utter ‘I am having a lawsuit against you’, Duncan appeared behind the door, sending you a light smirk and raising an eyebrow, meanwhile you set your leg down.

“I came to see if you needed some help” he joked, although you doubted it ”…you were taking quite your sweet time”.

“Did you think we had started without you, handsome?” joked, smirking, Fallon as she approached him, coming to gently caress his chest, through the tailored Hugo Boss shirt, the cufflinks, which adorned it, another gifts of Fallon, who had in common with Duncan his penchant for spoiling her lovers.

“… I was worried” he smirked softly, before he lowered his lips onto Fallon, and a little thrill of jealousy went through your spine, pushing you to lightly glare at them, annoyed that they weren’t giving you  any attention “… you can’t leave two beautiful women, even more if one is drenched in expensive champagne”.

You felt the gears shifting in Fallon’s head at those words and she smirked at you, turning to join your lips in a kiss, extremely open-mouthed, probably to show Duncan the entire dynamic of it.

“... why don’t you go and shed that drenched dress in my room” she suggested softly on your lips, making you ask for more, your eyes half-closed, in an hazy daze “… we wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, would we?”.

Duncan shook softly his head, a breathless smirk on his face, probably understanding what Fallon wanted, but you were clueless.

Still you obeyed the two of them, going to Fallon’s room, to wait for them, shedding the dress and the lingerie under it, although you kept the panties: a light line of tiny diamons connecting the two pieces in the front and he back, on the sides.

It had been one of Duncan’s most appreciated gifts, alongside your other pair with little pearls that teased you whenever you wore them, making you already drenched, just for Duncan’s cock…

… or, as happened lately, for Fallon’s strap.

You then moved onto the bed, waiting on your stomach for the two, meanwhile you took in Fallon’s elegant room, definitely designed with style and efficiency (and you weren’t going to lie a bit of… flare, but you didn’t mind it too much).

(You had quite grown to like it, with Fallon’s company).

As you felt a little clicking of heels you realized that she was on the threshold, of the room, and you turned lightly to give her a good view of your perky breasts, even going as far as to twirl lightly a nipple, as you looked around.

“… this place is nice, I am going to ask for the interior designer name, me and Duncan are thinking of redecorating our Washington house…” you joked softly, meanwhile Fallon was speechless, taking in your naked body, as you smirked.

“Fuck, now you look fucking beautiful” she commented simply, rushing to the bed, and gently laying on you, the silk of her dress creating a delicious friction on your legs, meanwhile she collected your mouth for a messy kiss, her Dior lipstick staining your Yves-Saint-Laurent one, as you smirked, an hand immediately going to the slit of her dress, inching it up.

“Even more than you?” you joked as your fingers slipped inside her dress, teasing her lightly over the panties “… am I not mommy’s prettiest princess?”.

Fallon wasn’t able to reply, just letting soft shaky breaths, when she was busied by your soft lips and your delicate fingers.

“... what I said about starting without me?” Duncan’s deep voice startled both of you and you turned around lightly, Fallon with a pure look of shame, but you simply smirked, continuing on teasing Fallon, who wasn’t unable to stop herself from letting out a soft moan.

Meanwhile you did this, you were finally able to notice what Duncan held in his hands: a champagne bottle and a glass, something wicked working up in your mind, making you smile lightly.

“… oh, c’mon Daddy, I am just making mommy ready for you, am I not, mommy?” you joked, meanwhile you kissed down Fallon’s exposed neck “… she is so wet… daddy, I can’t wait to feel her”.

Duncan simply mumbled a little ‘mmm’ and he joined you in the bed, setting the champagne bottle in on the ground, it was opened so it was definitely stolen from the party going on downstairs.

“… do you like what our little minx is doing to you, Fallon?” asked Duncan, pushing himself on top of her, his chest to her back “…she is good with her hands, isn’t she?”.

And he pushed his hands onto her covered breast, kneading them softly, meanwhile he focused on biting her ear lobes, in a mix of pain and pleasure that made Fallon moan louder, meanwhile your fingers slipped inside Fallon’s panties, simply pushing them to their side.

At first you teased Fallon’s folds, her eyebrows scrunching alongside her nose, which you kissed softly, almost to comfort her.

Then you finally reached her pearl, smirking as Fallon let out a breathy moan, shaking lightly between you and Duncan, who had raised lightly her dress to allow you an easier access.

You continued on rubbing with attentive touches Fallon’s pearl, meanwhile Duncan reached up to palm Fallon’s cunt, as you softly spread her fold, letting Duncan dip his finger easily, allowing him to enter her with his fingers, and Fallon threw her head back, pleasure coursing through his veins.

Duncan kept a steady rhythm, till Fallon reached the ecstasy point, in a lazy orgasm that made her scrunch up her nose light, again, a sight you found adorable dragging her in a light kiss, meanwhile Duncan licked up his fingers, shining with her juices.

“You made me feel so good” she muttered your lips, once she finished riding her orgasm, as she moved slowly down your body, till she was met with your panties, dragging them down your legs slowly “… now let me and Duncan make you feel good”.

And you were simply able to nod, simply resting you back down onto the soft mattress, meanwhile Duncan went to kiss your lips, sharing Fallon’s flavor with you, as he grabbed the glass from the nightstand and Fallon collected the bottle, pouring the golden liquid in the crystal glass.

“You know that champagne always taste better, if mixed with the taste of your skin?” he asked lightly, meanwhile he twirled lightly the glass, as Fallon smirked, licking a small stripe from your inner thigh to the juncture of your legs and hips, teasing lightly your pubic mound.

“… oh” you simply muttered, as little droplets of champagne fell onto your overheated neck, pushing a pleasurable sensation on your tummy, which Fallon stroked lovingly, tickling you.

Then Duncan’s tongue followed the droplets of champagne on your neck, meanwhile Fallon gained the control of the glass and dropped some other onto your tummy, making it spasm lightly, the coldness definitely surprising you, but her tongue soothed it, meanwhile her plus lips, caressed your hips.

A little mark of red being left in its wake from her lipstick, meanwhile she continued trailing champagne till right on your mound, and Fallon wasn’t certainly shy to lick a bold line from your Venus peak to where your pubis met your stomach, your abs tensing under such a teasing action.

Duncan smirked in your neck, feeling you arch under him, meanwhile your hands set down to explore his back, pushing him closer.

“Sweetie, can you raise your hips for daddy?” he asked softly, pushing a pillow onto the small of your back to keep your back on an higher level so that there would be a light difference in height, which allowed to create a perfect descent.

Perfect to let champagne fall, right onto your pearl: the coldness of it, alongside its bubbles completely awakening a broken moan from you, unable to stop buckling up, although Fallon held you down, before she dared a light lick down there, slurping champagne straight from the source.

“Duncan was fucking right… it tastes better”.

Duncan smirked against your neck, before he dipped down two fingers, rubbing them on some of the champagne mixed with your juices, before he brought it to his lips, moaning around them, because of the perfect taste.

Fallon dropped more, some of it even dirtying the mattress, something which made you lightly laugh and then moan as Fallon’s tongue followed the taste of champagne, in the most private of your secrets, pushing her tongue in and out, meanwhile Duncan’s rubbed your pearl.

It was a torture from heaven, and as Duncan pushed a kiss onto your lips, you understood why they were so… ravenous.

It tasted like fucking ambrosia.

But right when you were reaching the edge, they stopped their ministrations and Fallon retreated from the bed, meanwhile Duncan started undressing, with you raising lightly to help him, although your fingers were clumsy and hasty, desperation coursing through your veins, meanwhile you moaned at their denial.

“Don’t whine, little one” giggled Duncan, pushing you back, pinning your hands over your head, as you smiled silly “…daddy will make it up to you”:

“But I am… so so desperate daddy” you replied, pushing on his hold, trying to get a soft kiss, meanwhile he pushed you back.

“Be patient, little girl” he grabbed her chin, immobilizing you softly onto the bed, meanwhile Fallon reappeared over your shoulder, to which you sent her a pleading look,  but your mood immediately brightened as you saw that she was wearing the strap, your legs immediately brushing together in a desperate attempt to ease the friction “… now, mommy Fallon, here, will fuck your picture perfect pussy, with her big fat cock, meanwhile I’ll fuck your pretty red mouth”:

You nodded, immediately excited, as Duncan moved away from the bed, to push off his boxers, giving you and Fallon a good look of his ass, which she pinched, meanwhile you smirked at his shocked face.

“Don’t make me spank you” he muttered, although his tone wasn’t threatening in the slightest.

Even more because both yours and Fallon’s eyes were glued onto his big and hard cock, swollen with the lack of attention you hadn’t given him.

You licked your lips, already anxious about the treat you would be given soon.

Fallon, oh so jealous Fallon, brought you attention onto her, leaning down to bit down onto one of your tits, making you moan lightly, as your mound accidentally brushed against her strap, making you repeat the movement, wanting to goad her further in you, but she kept it steady and Duncan set himself over your head, his cock right in your face, your lips lightly teasing him as they brushed against it.

And then Fallon pushed herself in you, lightly and slowly.

A little moan escaped you, before it was shushed by Duncan’s cock, completely stealing your breath and you were thankful for Fallon’s attentive movements, stilling and kissing your thighs, as she brought your legs to her hips, to deepen the thrust.

Because Duncan wasn’t so merciful.

He quickly took advantage of you and pushed a ruthless rhythm, one still that you enjoyed because your internal walls gripped Fallon’s strap tighter and tighter but she kept up her gentler rhythm, pushing slowly in and slowly out.

And Duncan just chased his high with your mouth, in a rather vulgar way.

But it wasn’t as vulgar as when he reached down, shoving his cock entirely in your throat, to collect the champagne bottle and with an easy move of his hands, he dipped champagne onto his cock and in your mouth, mixing the pre-cum with it, in something that tasted deliciously contrasting.

Due to the thrust some champagne even ended up onto Fallon’s breasts, drenching your entire body.

Duncan thought it was a complete waste of good champagne and he quickly pushed himself to lick it off, making Fallon moan and her thrusts intensified, following the friction of the strap against you, which felt heavenly in you.

And it was enough.

You were already oversensitive for the previous teasing, and it took Fallon just to find the perfect spot and you were seeing stars, dragging Duncan alongside you, completely engulfed by the heat of your mouth, spilling cum and champagne again in your mouth.

As you came down, the champagne started being less sexy and simply sticky, and you couldn’t help but feel too oversensitive to withhold Fallon anymore in you, and she exited you slowly, making you feel each painful inch, as Duncan did the same, softly coming to your side, exiting your mouth, meanwhile you felt your throat raw and painful, and were thankful when Duncan moved away to collect some towels to clean you up and a glass of water, and Fallon discarded the strap, throwing it carelessly away.

Then she laid down next to you, and although you felt a bit annoyed by the stickiness of the champagne to your skin, you were more than happy to cuddle up to your lover, as she caressed your hair, murmuring about what a ‘dirty mess you were’.

“A dirty mess that we will have fun cleaning” giggled Duncan, pushing a towel up your thighs, awakening your desire again.

“Just no more champagne, I don’t think I can have more” asked Fallon, making you and Duncan laugh.

“I’d never thought I would hear you say that”.