#their* for that second tag i promise I'm not having a stroke

[lith-myathar]

.

[ellievickstar]

Pretty Lies

A/N: THIS THOUGHT STRUCK ME AS I THOUGHT OF THE MEME SO LIKE BEAR WITH ME FOR A MOMENT OKAY??? also i gave up valentine week, i want to write a lot does not mean i want to stick to a schedule.

Summary: Cassian has some questions about you and Azzy's relationship, and because you are both very private people you choose not to answer Cassian truthfully, but what will happen when he decides to test your answer out?

Request: Nope.

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Warnings: Fluff. I'm in my soft era okay??? shush. This is set before even Amarantha so somewhere between the first war and the curse.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Cassian glanced between you and Azriel, both of you had been speaking through the mating bond, thus it was mostly silent. Truth to be told, your bond was quite new and Cassian had not really heard you both interact with each other since you both confessed your love.

"Hey...I have a question," Cassian spoke up, raising his hand slightly. You cocked your head curiously, waving a hand to encourage him to continue.

"Do you guys use pet names?" Glancing at Azriel, he shrugged.

"No," You said simply.

Narrowing his eyes, Cassian internally scoffed. He did not buy it, not for one moment. Azriel may have been the most quiet among the three of them but he knew for a fact that Azriel was probably the most affectionate behind close doors. Azriel cared in a way that was quiet, a way that did not draw attention. The smallest details that hinted to the fact that the shadow singer cared more than he let on.

Cassian nodded to himself, he would reveal your lies and expose them for what they are, this was his true purpose in life.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

His plan commenced during dinner.

Waiting for the proper moment to strike, he suddenly piped up when you and Rhys were deep in conversation, Azriel was listening to Amren closely as she complained about how boring her life was now.

"Hey, Y/N, what do bees make?" Cassian asked slyly. Hesitating for a second, you gazed at him before answering, "Honey?" It was then that Azriel suddenly said, "Yes, Sweetheart?" Mor exploded into laughter, Amren hummed her amusement and Rhys grinned like a wild cat.

Blushing a deep red, you turned your head to hide your face in Azriel's arm, his hand coming up to stroke your hair while your body shook from trying not to laugh, his lips curling up into a smirk.

"I KNEW IT," Cassian screamed, "YOU LIARS TOLD ME YOU DIDN'T USE PET NAMES, HOW COULD YOU LIE TO ME," Wincing at how loud he was, Azriel shot Cassian a pointed glare in which Cassian quieted down, sulking slightly as he dramatically collapsed back in his chair, clutching his chest from 'heartbreak'.

"I'm sorry Cass, but you're not the most...subtle person," You tried. You were trying to not snicker and be kind about it but he gasped louder. "I can be subtle. I am soooo subtle," He rolled his eyes.

"So if I told you I found my mate would you be calm?" Rhys joked. However, Cass's eyes widened at Rhys, his eye balls seemingly almost popping out. "I'M THE LAST ONE LEFT WITHOUT A MATE????"

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Bonus:

"Never lie to my face every again," Cass whined, chuckling you nodded, Azriel's wing tucking you closer to his side, ready to scoop you up once you were done talking to Cass so you could retire home for the night.

"I promise I will tell you every detail, even how Az-"

"NEVER MIND!"

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: hope this was fun to read heheheh see y'all next time <3

Azriel taglist: @chessebookgirl (if you guys want to be tagged in any character fics please tell me and I will happily add you <3)

[costkappen]

Best boy《CLxReader》

Tags....☆smut,blow job, sub!Charles, Dom!reader, no use of y/n,fluff,charles is insecure,reassuring

Warnings....☆smut!mdni, a bit of sad!Charles but nothing too sad or angsty

Word count....☆1795

A bit of a warning, this is my first time writing so it not the best,also please correct me if you find any spelling mistakes as I didn't proof read this,anyways enjoy I hope I did good!

He looked so pretty high up on the podium, his smiling face half covered by the shining Australian sun making his pretty blue eyes shine like I've never seen before.

After the podium celebrations I went after him and pulled him in the tightest hug ever

"Congratulations Charles! P2 and double ferrari podium, I'm so proud of you" his face lit up at my praise, something I've picked up since I first met him, he gloats over the littlest praise aimed towards him, even if it wasn't said to him directly, he has a habit of kicking himself down way more that necessary when the smallest thing goes wrong, even if it wasn't his fault he always finds a way to beat himself up over it, so over the years I've made a mental note to sower him with praises as much as I can. "Thank you chéri, I'm also really happy with the team today, let's go to my drivers room I'll take a quick shower and then we'll go back to the hotel"

The drive to the hotel was fairly silent, I didn't say anything to him but I saw how his lips twitched and how his grip on the steering wheel was so tight the tips of his fingers turned white. Yes he was happy about his podium, but there was something he was not telling me so I made it my personal mission to find out what was bothering him so much on a day that was supposed to make him feel like he was on cloud 9.

Once we arrived to the hotel the first thing I did was change into something more comfortable and then I went looking for him, "Hey baby" I said as I sat down on his lap on the couch "How are you feeling? You must be so happy, we have to celebrate with Carlos and Rebecca tonight you boys did such a good job"

The praise made him smile, still he didn't look like his usual self "Yeah I'm really happy Chéri, I think the team needed this win, I can't wait to celebrate with you all" then he gives me a quick kiss on the lips and looks at me without saying anything else

" Alright then if you're so happy then why are you acting like that?" "Acting like what?" He says with a nervous giggle as to make me think I'm just over thinking it. "Like you're about to cry Charlie, don't lie to me I know you too well." He then brings his hand to gently stroke my cheek, as if I was the one that needed comforting right now, "I really can't hide anything from you Chéri?" He let's out a sigh,his whole body deflating "I'm happy for Carlos, I really am, it's just that I can't stop thinking how it should've been me on the first step, not because I don't think that Carlos deserves it but because I've got the whole ferrari team and the tifosi rooting for me, and everytime I get second place instead of winning I feel like I'm letting down everyone, especially you" well I surely wasn't expecting that, yes I knew he had some troubles in believing himself, but I didn't know just how little he thought of himself, "Charlie I can promise you're not letting anyone down,and especially not me! Do you not know how proud I am of you? The redbull is been a monster of a car and so far you've been the only one to get as close to it as second place, everyone at the motorhome can tell you that, everyone is so proud of you even when you don't win we know that you could do so much more if we had a better car and if redbull didn't have a rocketship instead of a car,no one is upset with you Charlie" his lips were quivering and his pretty blue eyes were shiny and looked like they were ready to burst with tears, but I couldn't let my pretty boy cry on a day like this, not when he was supposed to be celebrating and happy with his amazing results, "Alright Charlie how about I show you just how much i am proud of you?"

I take his hand making him stand up from the couch "Where are we going Chéri?" He asks confused as ever "to the bed baby, I'll show you what good boys like you get when they've been so good" and as I make him get on the bed I get a good look at his flushed face, cheeks red and a little shy smile,

"I'll start slow okay?" He nods eagerly his head and I chuckle at his shyness, I start by prepping kisses all over his handsome face and I stop at his lips to give him a more passionate kiss occasionally sliding my tongue on his bottom lip, stroking his arms with my hand I could feel goosebumps forming, as I made my way to his neck I made sure that my kissed lingered a bit longer as to leave pink patches all over his neck, light enough to show but not too harsh so they would be gone the next day, as much as I wanted to leave purple marks all over him I knew pr would kill him if he showed up in public covered in hickeys, so just this once I'll refrain myself.

I could feel him shiver under me as I got to unbuttoning his shirt and I kissed all over his chest "Chéri please..don't tease me like this" he pleaded looking at me with his puppy eyes "What do you want me to do Charlie? I'll do anything you want as long as you ask me nicely " I was being a bit mean to him but I knew that he loved it when I took charge and teased him, "Please just touch me..anywhere I just want to feel your touch" his words make me melt, and how could I say no to him when he was begging so prettily "What a good boy you are Charles, asking me so nicely, don't worry I'll make you feel so good" He shivers as my hand gets lower, working on his pants to get them off, I slide them down along with his underwear as he raises his hips to help me get his pant off of him, I look back up staring at his pretty leaking dick, he wasn't the biggest but he still had the prettiest dick I've ever seen, clean and neatly groomed, I started tracing the veins that run across his shaft, that pulled a whimper out of him so I started using my tongue savoring his flavor on my tastbuds as I moved to his tip, clear beads of precum already leaking out "your dick is so pretty cha, so sensitive for me.." I look up at him smiling and circling my tongue around his tip "p-pleas chérie..take me in your mouth no more teasing" his pleas and the way he looked at me while he was making me go crazy, he just looked so good, still maintaining eye contact I took him as deep down my throat as I could go, seeing his face contorted from the pleasure gave me more confidence so I relaxed my throat and stopped when my nose hit his lower stomach, he tasted heavenly and I could hear his whimpers and soft moans, I bobbed my head up and down using my hand to stoke him at his base where I could not reach with my mouth, and he looked completely gone, eyes rolling back, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white and he let out the prettiest moans, but his breath was staring to hiccup and he started squirming against the sheet so I knew he was getting close "what is it cha? Getting close my sweet boy?" I cooed at him getting my mouth back on him as soon as I stopped talking "mhh- Chéri please don't stop i-" He gasped and as I looked at him I saw his eyes roll back, he was completely blissed out "what is it pretty boy, Can't talk anymore? Am I making you feel so good your brain can't form words?" His breath hitched and he let out a shaky moan, this time I decided to not make him beg me to let him cut, he had been so good and he deserved it, so I started focusing on his tip, circling it with my tongue and sucking it harshly while my hand stroked him up and down as the other held him at his base,I was so focused on getting him to his sweet and deserved release I almost didn't hear him warning me that he was about to cum, "look at me Charlie,I want to see your pretty face as you cum down my throat like a good boy,just like that cha let it go for me" my words pushed him off the edge and he gripped my hair slightly pushing my head down on him, I got the hint so I took him as deep as a could and he heal me there, his loud moans filled the room, at this point I knew that whoever was staying in the room next to us hear him but I couldn't care less, I just wanted him to feel good, as i looked at his fucked out expression I felt his sweet cum filling my mouth, his mouth hanged low as he let out one final loud moan and fell back on the pillows, I slowly pulled him out of my mouth, took his face in my hands and made him look at me as I swallowed his cum, and he smashed his mouth on mine, sliding his tongue inside my mouth passionately kissing me, a quiet thank you.

"Are you feeling better now Charlie?" I looked down at him as he was laying on my chest trying to gain his breath back "yes- yes thank you chéri I'm feeling much better chéri thank you" He smiled and kissed my neck and nuzzled his face as I covered us up with the covers "well then I'm confident that you learned your lesson and will start to believe in yourself more yes?" I say as I start stroking his hair

"Well I don't know chéri, if that's what happens when I doubt myself I might just start doing it more" He laughs and hides his face in the crook of my neck, I gently smack the back of his head but I also laugh at his comment "I love you charles, you know that right?" "I know chéri, but I love you more."

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

What You Like

Marc Spector x F!Reader x Steven Grant • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Marc gets in his head about being with you, Steven talks him through it.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: There was a post about Marc talking Steven through his first time with reader, which I adored and couldn't stop thinking about. And then my brain went... but what if... the other way around? (I'm so sure I reblogged the post, or maybe it's in my queue, but I cannot for the life of me find it. Please if you know the one I'm talking about, let me know! I really would like to link it here. Also I'm so sorry I forgot who wrote it as well.)

Warnings: oral, fingering, so much swearing, some self loathing from Marc, I have used 'mate' far too much, as well as 'yeah?', kind of Marc being sort of into Steven talking to him, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2213

“She doesn’t like it so much like that, if you tilt your head to the side a little and-”

Marc snaps his eyes open and glares at Steven in the far-off mirror. “Fuck off.” He thinks hard, and Steven doesn’t have to hear him to read his expression.

“I’m just trying to help, mate.” He holds up his hands like all he had done is hold the door open for him or something. 

Marc glares harder, about to flip him off when you pull back from the kiss. 

“You okay?” 

Marc swallows, “Sorry, I, erm…” He hadn’t realised you’d noticed his distraction.

You smile at him and stroke his cheek. "You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you shift a little on the bed, giving him a fraction more space.

“No, no, that wasn’t…” he gives you a small smile in return and leans forward again to kiss you. “Steven, I need you to be quiet now, okay?” 

“I was just-”

“Steven.”

He tuts. “Okay, okay, I promise.” 

Marc inches a little closer, recovering the space you’d previously offered up. His thigh nudges against yours and you let out a little moan into his mouth as he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip. 

He didn’t know why he felt so nervous, anxiety like eels swimming in his belly, you were Steven’s girlfriend (and technically, his now? Or was that too forward?) you’d been in this bed, with this body before. And strictly speaking, Marc had looked in on you and Steven a few times in more… intimate moments. Accidentally, of course. 

This should be fine. Practically second nature. 

He tries to clear his head, to be more in the moment, and runs his hands down your back as he presses closer, leaning into you slightly to urge you to lay back onto the mattress. 

You move with him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him against you. Parting your legs slightly so that he can situate himself between them. 

He nips lightly at your lip, licking softly but confidently into your mouth as he just grinds his hardening cock against your core. Oh, and your barely muffled moan is delicious, the way you dig your fingers into his shoulders makes his head spin, if-

“Oh, that’s a good move. She definitely likes that.” 

“Steven! For fuck’s sake! I trusted you to be quiet!” 

“Sorry!”

Marc tries not to let the interruption show, but he jumps a little when Steven speaks and it’s impossible for you to have missed it. A small thorn of anxiety settles in his chest, piercing between his ribs. 

“Kiss her neck, she really likes that.” 

“Steven-”

“I’m just giving helpful tips!” He can feel more than see Steven shrug his shoulders. “You’re the one without any game.”

“Without any game? I’ve got more game than you.” 

Steven sorts. “Unlikely. When’s the last time you got laid? God only knows. I, however, had sex this morning.” 

“Steven.” 

“Just saying.” 

“Yeah, well, I'm gonna be having sex in a minute, so shut up.”

There was a moment of blissful silence and Marc let out a breath of relief. 

You hooked your legs over his hips, urging him closer and bucking up so that you could grind against him. The heavy drag of his jeans sending sparks of pleasure along your spine. 

He slips his left hand down, sneaking the tips of his warm fingers under your top and stroking at the soft skin of your side. 

“She’s ticklish there.” 

“Steven-”

You can’t help but giggle a little, squirming away from his touch and breaking the kiss. “Sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“You’re ticklish.” Marc finishes and you nod smiling. 

“Sorry.” You mouth again. 

Marc shakes his head and smiles as he leans back down. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” He moves his hand away from your side. 

He’s barely pressed his lips against you for a second before Steven speaks again. “Told you.”

Marc inwardly grunts, rolling his eyes as he kisses along your jaw to your neck. He nips lightly at your skin, before sucking gently.

“Bit lower mate, that’s the spot.”

Marc scowled but followed the instruction, hatching onto the spot Steven suggested and you moan loudly, arching your back off the mattress. 

“See, she really likes that. Now if you just move your hand down and-”

Marc clenches his jaw instinctively, letting his frustration bubble over. Unfortunately, your neck is still between his teeth when they snap shut. 

You let out a little gasp of pain and Marc nearly blacks out from panic, instinctively moving to jerk backwards and away from you. But your arms tighten on his shoulders, your thighs clenching around his hips. 

You whimper and buck against him instantly. “Marc, fuck, please do that again.” 

He relaxes, tension easing out of his limbs as he growls faintly and does as you ask. 

“It’s okay mate, really. She’s not made of glass.” 

“Steven. I’m fucking gonna-”

“Hey,” Steven protested, “look, I don’t mind when you’re watching us go at it all the time, yeah?” 

Marc flushed. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do. And don’t think you’re being sneaky about it either. I can tell.” 

“I don’t mean to, it’s just…”

“Just what mate?” 

“It just… happens.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

Marc stays quiet, knowing that whatever he says won’t make him look good. He tries to ignore Steven, to just focus on you. To grind against you just right. But he could feel Steven hovering just in the background. 

You run your hands through Marc’s hair, pulling highly as you writhe under him and he can’t help but risk a sneaky look up at you, at how your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes closed in pleasure and…

Was it real? Or was it just for show? Did you always look like that when Steven…? He thinks back trying to recall the memories of watching in as much detail as possible. 

“Marc.” Steven’s voice is soft. 

But he doesn’t answer.

“Stop getting in your head about it, yeah? She’s here with you. She likes you. She wouldn’t pretend to be into something she doesn’t, ‘kay?” 

Marc swallows, trying to take Steven’s words on board and calm his quickly spiralling thoughts. 

But it doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right, it’s all stiff and unsettled. Like his joints are just a fraction out of place. 

You can tell. He’s so sure that you can tell. Even if you are moaning and writhing against him, you must know. Must sense it. How out of alignment he is. How much of a failure. 

“Steven?"

There’s a fraction of a pause before he answers. “Hmm?” 

“What does she like?”

He can feel Steven’s frown. 

“What does she like? What should I do? You were full of tips a second ago, don’t lea-”

“Move your hand down,” his voice is a little softer than before. Compassionate. And Marc knows his emotions have bled through. “Slower.” 

Marc slowly runs his hand down your body, careful not to tickle your side, stopping just short of the top button of your trousers. 

“Kiss lower on her neck, just above her collarbone... that’s it.”

Marc feels a little warm at the praise, giddy even. 

“And just start to undo her trousers, yeah?”

He flicks the top button open and you whine, bucking up against him. You urge his face up with your hands so you can kiss his lips and slide your tongue into his mouth. A deep shiver runs along Marc’s spine, forcing his hips to buck mindlessly. 

You pull back for a second, just to lift your top up and over your head before dropping it to the side and his breath catches in his throat. 

“Trousers.” 

Marc all but jumps despite the soft tone of Steven’s voice and he quickly snaps his eyes away from your skin to focus on undoing your pants.

You grin at his eagerness and help him by wiggling out of your trousers and kicking them off your feet. You kiss Marc’s neck, your hands moving desperately to his jeans. 

“Touch her.”

Marc lets out a little moan as you suck on his pulse point. “Wha-”

Marc’s left hand moves under Steven’s control, slipping his fingers under the elastic of your panties and pressing two thick fingers inside of your heat. 

You gasp in surprise, your thighs twitching at the sudden intrusion, shifting wider to allow him easier access. 

Steven strokes two fingers languidly against your walls for a second, enjoying the little tremors and flutters before placing his thumb on your clit. “Can you feel that?” 

Marc nods inwardly, “fuck.”

“See how wet she is?” 

“So fucking wet.” 

Steven smiles, continuing the long, slow strokes for a second before retreating back and leaving their hand once more completely under Marc’s control. He falters for half a second before he quickly resumes the tortuous pace set up by Steven. 

You gasp and whine, flinging your head back against the pillow as you arch up your hips towards him, trying to buck and urge him to move faster. 

“Go nice and slow… yeah… like that…” Steven whispers in his ear and there’s something strangely comforting about it, something exciting at having him there, right with him. 

Marc bites his bottom lips between his teeth, watching your face with rapt attention. 

“Nice slow circles and nice slow strokes.” 

“Slow circles.” He mutters under his breath, almost inaudible. He glides his fingers back and forth, barely leaving you before pushing back in, revelling in the sound of your wetness. 

You buck and whine, grabbing hold of his forearm like you were hanging onto a lifesaver. “Marc- ah, please!” Your words are cut off by desperate half choked sobs. 

He continues to circle your clit gently, barely allowing any pressure so that you can only just feel the slightly calloused glide of his thumb. Your thighs started to shake, your movements becoming sloppy. 

“Take her panties off completely, yeah? She’s gonna cum in a second, you’re gonna want to see.” 

Marc obeyed without thinking, using his free hand to pull them down and groaning softly when you lifted your hips as best you could to help him. 

Fuck you looked so pretty laid out all before him- before them. 

You moaned particularly needily, already looking fucked out of your head and Marc hissed, unable to stop himself as he hurriedly leant down and flicked his tongue along your clit. 

Your little high-pitched cry made him go light-headed. 

“Fuck, god yeah, give it to her.” Steven’s arousal bled into his own, making him dizzyingly high. “God, make her cum, make her cum in our mouth Marc, please.” 

“Marc, oh god, please!” You whine at almost the same moment, your and Steven’s voice blending together in a harmony that made Marc’s dick throb. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth for a moment before running board, flat licks over it, continuing his fingers slow pump as he brought you maddeningly close to the edge. 

Steven moaned loudly, “fuck Marc, please, please, need to taste her cum. Then we can fuck her together, yeah? She feels so good, she makes the best little noises,” he groaned again, “she tastes so sweet doesn’t she?” 

“So sweet,” Marc mumbled against your pussy as he kept moving, kept sucking and licking and practically humping the mattress with his eyes pinched tight in pleasure. 

“Marc,” you whimper and pull on his hair with your free hand, urging him on, “you’re so good at this, so good, ‘m gonna cum-”

“Fuck, Marc, yes.” 

He couldn’t help himself, simply couldn’t. Found himself opening his mouth and letting the words spill out before he had even registered them. “Steven’s here too.” 

“Oh shit!” You gasp, your voice raising in pitch as your orgasm crashes into you, seizing your limbs in pleasure and whiting out your vision, before leaving you boneless and breathless. 

Marc stops moving slowly, trying to prolong your bliss for as long as possible. He bites his lip nervously as he sits up, your release and his spit covering the lower half of his face. Fuck, why had he said that, why had he gone and fucked this all up-

You smile up at him, still trailing your fingers through his thick curls. “Steven’s here too?” 

He nods as heat rises to his face. He stares down at your knee. 

“Look at her, mate.” 

He doesn’t move until you gently tilt his chin up with your hand. 

Your soft smile makes his heart ache. 

“I’m sorry…” he whispers. “Is that… okay? That he’s here?” 

You nod, your grin widening as you sit up and kiss him. It’s messy and deep, and Marc just melts into it. He whines against your lips as you wrap your arms around him, stroking your tongue with his own as you lick into his mouth. 

“Now, how about,” you say between kisses, your fingers tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt. “I get you out of these clothes and suck both of your dick.” You pause and pull a silly face at the odd-sounding, but technically correct singular use. 

Marc giggles and nuzzles into your neck. 

“Say yes mate!” 

“Yes please.” He mumbles as he sucks a love bite into your skin. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[caramelcleopatraa]

Against A Wall

Roman Reigns x Reader ! 600+ words ! Day 2

x: I was rushing this because I had a dance performance today, so I'm sorry if it is not as good as you expect to to be :(

You regretted it. Well, maybe not regretted. More like… you didn’t know what the outcome of your recent temper tantrum would be. 2 hours ago, he promised to sit down with you to continue the show you two were binging. And those two hours passed by with him still being on the phone, laughing out loud with his hand over his stomach, whispering, “I'll be right there, give me a second.” 

You know damn well if you did that to him, he would catch an attitude. So it only seemed fair that you caught a tiny attitude. And it was deserved. You should've started the show without him, but you weren't that cruel. So he would just have to deal with your attitude for the rest of the night. But you didn’t know he already knew how to deal with you and your attitude.

How? 

Well against the wall of course.

Your back is against the wall with Roman’s hands holding you against him creating a tight cage around you, preventing you from wiggling around. Not like you could anyway when your legs are on his shoulders. You could’ve swore your body went limp when he threw you onto the bed, bringing your knees to your ears, and hoisting you in the air.

“What happened mama, you had such an attitude before? Can’t have one when I fold you in half, huh?”

Your response was a sharp glare and scratching his shoulders, still trying to mouth off so he could understand that your annoyance is justified. “You better not go silent on me.” He swiftly slaps your ass, swallowing a moan. He hums at your response, kissing your temples and leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

“You still not gon’ talk to me?” 

“Not when you made me wait for two hours!” Roman grunts, deepening his thrusts. Those addicting thrusts that would knock the wind out of you. “I’m sorry baby, you know I didn't mean to.” You moan out loud upon hearing him apologize. His teasing tone didn’t soak through his words. Sincerely apologizing to you while rendering you unable to walk for the next two hours.

“Ro- F-fuck!”

“You forgive me baby?”

“Yes,” you moan out, keeping eye contact with him while he’s rearranging your guts. “Lemme hear you say it again.” You nod frantically, letting your nails dig into his shoulders. You’re singing a mix of “yes” and “roman” like an ancient tribal mantra. “How could I have forgotten about you sweetheart?This pissy’s too fucking good.” His words are slurred, closing his eyes and letting himself fall in love with the feeling of you around his cock. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass and his dick kissing your cervix with every stroke. Your shameful moans could be heard in every corner of the house, keening out in pleasure that continued to build.

Your bodies were coated in sweat that made you both glow. His adonis-like structure that collided with your curvaceous body was a sight to see. How he squeezed and palmed at your ass and how your nails kept digging into his shoulders, arms, and back. How his abs flexed and your titties and ass ricocheted after every thrust had you both feening for more.

“Ohmygod bae- it's too much, I’m cummin!” You warn him, but she shows no sign of stopping. Letting your essence coat his dick and drip down his leg, hastily fucking you through your orgasm as his was creeping up on him “Mmm, i’m about to nut in this pussy.”

He pummels up into you for the last few times and releases deep into you. His guttural moans rang throughout your entire body, curling your toes as continues to fill you up. Your right hand feels down his chest, feeling his soft skin and his chest inflate and concave.

“Better?”

You look over his shoulder, scoffing and rolling your eyes. “Yeah, Yeah, Whatever.” He chuckles and showers you in kisses, still holding you close to him. “Let's get back to our show, yeah?”

🏷️ tags :) @hunnidmilly @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce

@theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen

@alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae

@fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove

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@msbigredmachine @sayyestoheav3nn @trippinsorrows @mzv11

@saintmagx @jstarr86 @pr3ttiesz @trentybenty @romansthrone

@scarlettnoir01 @tshepisho @rose-bliss @yana3sworld

@queeny23 @bebesobrielo @heauxvibez

[in-halingstardust]

Unexpected Situation

A/N: Hi hi, its been such a long time and no I'm not dead...Maybe my brain is. But! I am going to start openign up bullet requests again. I have a few requests to get through, but this was stuck in my head for a solid week. dom!caelus x gn!reader x sub!danheng Tags: semi public sex, deep throating, sub and dom dynamics, dirty talk, praise, dirty thoughts~, NOT Beta'd sorry I'm tired :,0

You wonder how you find yourself in these situations.

What situation you might ask?

For one, you only wanted to go to the archives to research information about Xianzhou's local flora and update the records from your last trailblazing.

Second, when you heard the faint cry of Dan Heng come through the archive’s doors, you were on alert. Dan Heng, stone faced though warm, one who never showed his true emotion outwardly, the one who would only talk when he was certain about every single word that would come out of his perfect lips, gives a another cry.

Third, when you slam the door open you are extremely embarrassed at the open debauchery of the Express' silly goober Caelus slamming himself into Dan Heng against the console. Pinned against the archive is Dan Heng, one leg up hooked around Caelus shoulder, the other flexed on the floor as he grips tightly to Callus. He sees you first and in shock gives a rather harsh hit against Caelus back, his only return was a deep thrust.

Dan Heng moans fill the chamber, and you turn deep red. Not out of embarrassment but because it was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed.

It didn’t help that you had massive crush on them both.

Caelus must have eyes behind his head. The next time, Dan Heng whimpers into the crook of his neck he tilts his head back. His eyes are molten gold heavy with pleasure that leads you to feeling extremely warm in your core.

"Hey close the door,” a smirk, “I know you want in."

So when you are on your knees in front of Dan Heng's pink, slightly longer than average dick, you can't help but feel your mouth water.

Caelus runs a finger over Dan Heng’s perky nipples, "Oh pretty boy aren't you excited that they are also here to join us? Tell her how thankful you are," Caelus echoes as he twists his nipples.

Dan Heng's dick twitches in the cutest way possible in front of your nose. You can't believe this is happening.

"I- ah, thank you..." Dan Heng trails off. A full blush on his cheeks as he looks down at you.

Caelus laughs as he retracts his fingers, "Sorry (Y/N), promised Dan Heng, I give him the best fuck of his life." A devious smile curls at his lips, "We can all fuck later if we want to, but right now it's all 'bout our little dragon." Caelus hums as he presses a kiss against Dan Heng's temple. It must have been a distraction since you see Dan Heng's little mouth pucker into an "o" with the filthy sound of Caelus entering him.

Dan Heng's cock swells with each thrust of Caelus, ruining his insides and you? There is something mesmerizing seeing Dan Heng on display. How the cold stone archiver makes so many cute noises right in front of you. He doesn't hide them no- he looks at you with desire and desperation.

He wants you as well.

Something filthy clicks in your mind as you attach your lips to the tip of Dan Heng's cock. Swirling your tongue around his head as your delicate fingers stroke the base.

It's adorable how Dan Heng squeals and moans, the smell of sex filling the room once again.

He only encourages you. Taking him deeper, sucking harder as you place one hand on Dan Heng's thigh to support yourself the other guiding his cock.

What a dichotomy between you and Caelus as you pop off Dan Heng to run your tongue along a fat vein, gently coaxing him. While Caelus ups his pace, squeezing his fingers against Dan Heng's hips in pure animalistic trait.

Another thrust, "Tell her Dan Heng. Tell her about how badly you wanted her here with us. How you wanted to have her lips just like this all over your wet cock." Caelus babbles as he continues to jerk into Dan Heng in turn making his dick go further into the back of your throat till it hits the back.

You can only breath as Dan Heng uses you.

Caelus doesn't stop spilling dirty secrets and you can't help but listen to what they want to do to you. It feels so warm and wet down there, but this is about Dan Heng, not yourself. So, when you breathe in through your nose to swallow more of Dan Heng. He gives a large cry. If it wasn’t for Caelus pinning his arms back and supporting Dan Heng he would of fell from overstimulation.

"Or would you like me to tell (Y/N) about how you wish they were underneath us, taking us both? How you want to touch them all over, how that our thoughts are too dirty, too impure, that poor little baby couldn't take it even though they are taking your monstrous dick like the good little angel.”

Caelus is going faster and faster. You need to keep your hands on Dan Heng's thick thighs to keep balance. You feel him in the back of your throat. He's trying so hard not to gag you. To not make this uncomfortable for you, but it's as his dick swells in your mouth, leaving it full and large.

"Fuck!" Caelus groans against Dan Heng's shoulder. "Don't tighten up like that, feels like you're squeezing me off."

Caelus is going faster and faster. The rhythm is lost as you three are only guided by instinct. He’s close you can tell with the way he swells, the veins as they run along your tongue. It’s a dream, being used like this, the smell, the two of them. Together.

You can't believe how lucky you are.

You feel the stuttering of Dan Heng's thighs and the groans coming from Caelus as he bites his lips, his hips losing its rhythm as he reaches his climax.

Dan Heng cups first. It fills your mouth and gushes down your throat in salty flavor in pulses. His eyes are closed as his hands hold your head still till, he is spent and panting.

Caelus is next as he moans spilling inside of Dan Heng, not even pulling out as he grips Dan Heng tightly to himself whispering sweet thanks into his ears.

You. You let go of Dan Heng's cock with a pop, letting go of his thighs. Your core is wet and hot, but it's not enough to make you feel you're lost in the stars.

Of course. They know this and it's not the end of the night <3.

[butchcarmy]

Blood Orange (Ch 2: The Bathroom)

Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18, MDNI)

Rating: E (5.7k)

links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 1

Chapter Summary: No more fucking your boss. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but he doesn’t make it easy, even as you find yourself wanting to scream. Somehow it all falls away when you lower yourself to your knees before him. You don’t know if there’s any stopping this anymore. 

Content Tags: work sex, blow jobs, mouth fucking, CUM PLAY, dom/bossy carmy, coworkers with benefits, carmy being difficult, mental illness, they/them reader, gender neutral reader, the usual

A/N: WHEW. It’s here! Thanks for waiting y’all. I think I embarrassed myself writing this one (flushed emoji). It’s ramping up. Next chapter is gonna be big one. Let me know what you guys think, and enjoy! <3

Before you go to work the next morning, you make yourself come on your fingers. It would've been twice if you had more time. 

You open your eyes waking from a dream with his ghostly blue eyes and low voice, and you already know you're wet before you even touch yourself. The pads of your reaching fingers chase the tender spot Carmy stroked inside of you, but they don't quite make it. Of course they don't. 

Fingering yourself eases the ache for a little while. On the early morning transit with headphones over your ears, you still manage to find yourself aching for him. The music doesn't cover up the sound of his voice, and you catch yourself grimacing in the faint reflection of the dirty metro windows. 

This is not a good way to start your second day at work.

Since you left the walk-in yesterday, Carmy's been following you around like a mosquito in the summer, whizzing around your head, buzzing in your ears. You can't rid your thoughts of him. When you close your eyes, you're trapped in the fridge with him, again, and his fingers are deep inside you. 

Fuck. You're standing in front of the restaurant, willing yourself to go in. Just stop it, you think to yourself. 

You really should be more mad at him. He technically never apologized for insulting you, but you suppose you didn't expect him to in the first place. You didn't usually get apologies at places like this, from people like him. You don't want to get in the bad habit of expecting good things from broken people.

No more fucking your boss, you think resolutely to yourself, and that's the thought you meditate on as you open the door. 

By this time yesterday, there were already a couple of people floating around the kitchen. Today, you find dim lights and silence. Your footsteps feel too loud on the white linoleum as you walk to the lockers to drop off your stuff. You can’t pretend to understand the schedule yet.

“Carmen?” You pace around again as you secure your apron with a tie. No response. Surely he's here, at least. Someone had to open the place. 

You take a couple more steps when you hear his voice. 

“No, I'm not—that's not what I was sayin’.” The direction of his voice sounds like it's coming from his office. “Of course I miss him. Sugar—” A pause. “I know. Yeah. It's bullshit.” He laughs then, you think. You can't measure how genuine it is. “You're bullshit. Look, I'll call you back later, okay? And I'll—yeah, I'll look at it. Promise. Yeah. Bye.”

It's quiet after that. You're standing there, not sure what to do with yourself when you hear footsteps. Sure enough, Carmy pops out of the office, and you catch just a glimpse of something haunted in him before surprise takes over.

“Hi,” you say at the same time he says, “Jesus Christ.”

“How long have you been here,” he asks, as you go, “That's an interesting way to pronounce my name.”

“Um,” you start, and he stares at you blankly, unreactive to your joke. Too early, you guess. “I just got here.”

“Okay. Cool. Uh…” Anxiety radiates off of him, making his hands fidget and run through untamed hair. Not that you were looking at his hands at all. “You’ll be doin’ prep again.”

“Alright.” You expected as such. You’ll probably be on prep for the rest of the week, if not the month. That’s how most places go, but this isn’t most places. 

“Your station was dirty when you left yesterday.” You walk up to your station, and it’s spotless. “I had to clean it before I left.”

“Ah. I’m sorry about that,” you apologize quickly. I was preoccupied with other things, you think bitterly to yourself, thinking of locked doors and heated kisses. Not that you’ll mention it. “I’ll make sure to clean it this time.”

“Prep’s gonna be a bit different today,” he says, completely ignoring your apology. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping. “You’re gonna inspect produce, and then you’ll prep the stock again. Correctly this time.”

“It was nearly perfect, I just misplaced it,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah, nearly.” Looks like he heard you this time. Asshole. He places a box of onions on your station, rattling the table slightly. “Do I have to tell you how to sort out the bad ones from the good ones?” You’re honestly not sure if he means that as a jab, but the way he says it makes your insides sizzle with irritation.

Don’t take it personally, you remind yourself. Don’t. Take. It. Personally. 

“How about you show me just in case? Just so we’re on the same page.” It’s a wonder how calm you keep your voice. To your surprise, Carmy doesn’t roll his eyes, doesn’t sigh, he just nods and proceeds. Every time you think you’ll predict him properly, he does the opposite. 

You follow the line of his callused finger pointing to brown splotches on some of the onions. Intently, studiously, you examine the dark spots (indicative of mold), the sprouts (initial stages of deterioration), and the mushy areas (a sign of decreasing freshness). He’s talking about details as he seems to do when it comes to food, even elaborating on the farming process, but you don’t quite pick up that part. You just pay attention to the parameters you need to follow.

No more fucking your boss, you remind yourself again, because you catch yourself aching at the sight of his fingers. Your eyes have a hunger of their own, flickering up and down his muscular arms. God damnit. Maybe there’s another reason you can’t quite pay attention today. 

“Are you listening?” Carmy’s pointed question snaps you out of it. Fuck. You hope he didn’t catch you staring at his fingers again.

“If I can save it and just chop off the bad parts, then I should,” you regurgitate on instinct. “Those are the best ones to use for the stock. Otherwise, I should just toss it.”

For a split second, all he does is fix you with his focused stare. You feel the intensity of it in your chest, your beating heart fluttering with its weight. No matter how many times you scold yourself for finding him attractive, your eyes can’t ignore what’s right in front of them. You find yourself counting his moles. 

“I caught you staring,” he murmurs, “for real this time.”

“I—uh—” Your eyebrows are so raised you’re sure they’re bound to shoot off your warmed face. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. You weren’t going to mention yesterday, and after your first interaction this morning, you were sure he wasn’t going to, either. Guess you were wrong again.

“I’ll be in the back if you need help. The others should be here soon.” He’s moving on without giving you a chance to recover. Your brain can’t process the shock. “Just call if you need anything."

Before you get a chance to scrounge up anything to say, you’re alone in the kitchen again. 

This time I'm really gonna do it, you fume internally. Because you have a healthy amount of anger management, you don’t let yourself continue that thought.

Sydney is the third person to show up after you and Carmy. You give her a nod and a thin smile as she walks in, and she waves back. Soon after she arrives, the others trickle in one by one. As you're learning to expect, the quiet never lasts for long. 

There are tasks circling you just like yesterday that you don't fully grasp yet. Everyone seems to be instinctively following their own schedule, their circadian rhythm matched to the chaotic ecosystem of the kitchen. It’s just as suffocating as it was yesterday. You remind yourself that as a new hire, you don't need to understand the madness yet. Nonetheless, an invisible pressure presses down on you. 

“Hey, d'you mind telling me where this produce goes?” A triple stack of filled containers sits heavy in your arms. With Sydney out of the kitchen, Marcus is your next safest option in terms of coworkers. His head flicks up from where he was focused on kneading dough. A streak of white flour is across his nose. 

“Oh, that one's bottom shelf, near the back.” He claps his dusty hands together, flour falling between them like snow. “Here, I'll just show you. You know where the walk-in is?”

With Marcus, it doesn't feel like there are any stupid questions. It's a gift you don't take for granted, especially around here. You let him lead you to the fridge again, even though you remember where it is. It doesn't hurt. 

“Thanks. I'm, uh, still having a hard time figuring out where stuff goes,” you say after you put the produce away. 

“It’s cool. It's only your second day, right?” You nod. “Just takes time. Don't sweat it. You ever work in a restaurant before?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“Then you know what you're gettin’ into.” That makes you laugh. 

“Sorta.” You shrug. “To be honest with you, I just need money, and I like cooking enough, so…now I'm here.” You're not quite as honest with how desperate your situation was on the verge of coming, but it's fine. Not really the time and place for it anyway. 

“I gotcha. That's how it was for me too, actually.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Well, that's how I started at McDonald’s. That was a while ago now.”

“I see. It's better here, I hope.”

“Hard to say,” he says, but there's a little smile on his face. “For the most part, Michael was cool, but—”

“Michael!” You blurt out, startling the both of you. “Holy shit, I'm sorry. I've just been trying to remember the name of the previous owner for forever now and—wow, sorry. I didn't mean to shout.”

“It's fine.” Marcus has this amused expression, but it dissolves quickly. “You met him?”

“I did. I came here a couple of years ago when I first moved. Just once, but—anyway, what's his deal?”

“His deal?”

“Yeah, like, why'd he give the restaurant away? Carmy said he didn't want it anymore.”

“Oh.” You can't read the way Marcus’ face shifts. “That's what he said?”

“...Yeah?”

“I see. Okay. Uh…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know how this sounds, but just try not to bring Mike up for now. It's still kind of a sore subject.”

“Ah, my bad.” Your brain instantly supplies stories of estranged families, sibling spats, and stolen money. You suppose it's a sour sort of relationship—something you're intimately familiar with. “Can I ask what happened, or…?”

“I'll tell you later,” he replies evasively. “You know what else they got you training on today?”

“No idea,” you answer honestly. The nosy part of you wants to hear more about the Berzatto family, but the responsible part of you reminds you to cool your jets. “Carmy just told me I was on produce. Know where he's at? I peeked into his office, but he wasn't there.”

“Oh, he just left.” Your blank stare makes him elaborate. “He's off doing Carmy things.”

“Doing Carmy things?” Looks like the person in charge has abandoned you yet again.

“Business stuff, probably.” Marcus shrugs. “He does that sometimes. He probably won't be back for a while, so I can help you with training for now if you want.”

“That would be great.” There's a remark on the tip of your tongue about poor management, but you hold it. “Is Carmy a better boss, at least?”

“Compared to Michael?” You recognize sadness in Marcus’ pinched brows, even if it's only momentary. “I dunno. It hasn't been long, but this place has been running more smoothly since he started doing things.” Your shocked expression makes him laugh briefly. “I know, it used to be worse if you can believe it.”

“I'm not sure that I can,” you admit. 

. . . . .

The next several days at work continue to test your patience. While Carmy keeps you on prep, keeping your tasks simple, he continues to find ways to keep you on edge. You stiffen up every time he enters the kitchen, waiting for him to point out yet another mistake. 

Chef, this cut's too uneven. Chef, you're taking too much time on this. Chef, you should’ve cut this part off. Chef, you’re creating too much waste. 

Yes, Chef, you always reply, even as his comments become more and more grating. A childish part of you wants to do a worse job out of spite, but another part of you is hungry for his approval far more than you would ever admit. You wonder if he's this tough on everyone. 

The incident in the walk-in does not get mentioned again. A childish voice in you wonders if Carmy has forgotten about it. Of course he hasn’t, but every time he critiques you, you wonder about the Carmy who kissed you. You wonder what that Carmy's thinking, because you have no clue. 

Has he been thinking of you, too?

This is how things should be, you remind yourself after you touch yourself for the fourth night in a row to the thought of him. Your fingers are wet, and your wrist is embarrassingly sore. I can't have sex with my boss again. I just can't. 

Would it be different if he also touched himself to thoughts of you?

You desperately suck your own cum off your fingers, and you wish it were his fingers instead. It doesn't taste the same. 

The bright lights are irritatingly bright when you come in this morning. It looks like you're the first person here again, other than Carmy. You hear his irritated voice as soon as you enter, which is clearly a good sign. 

“I appreciate you thinking of me, I do. I do. It's just—” He sighs. Looks like he's having another phone call. “I can't come back. Not right now.” Silence. “No, uh, won't happen for a while, I think. The place's fucked.” A shaky breath. “What? What did you say?

“The head chef asked about me?” Carmy's voice has gone tight. “I see. Of course he said that. No, it's fine.” Pause. “...I know what they've been saying. I figured they'd look down on me.” His laugh is hollow and painful. “Look, I got shit to do. Thanks for asking me, but it's a no. I can't.” Another pause, drawn out and tense. “Sure. Bye.”

After he hangs up, you hear him muttering to himself. You can't pick out any of the words other than the curses, but it sounds bad. As you put your things away, you silently pray to the abstract idea of a god to give you both strength of patience. Seems like you'll need it today. 

“Morning,” you tentatively greet him when he sees you. He's not surprised by your presence today, it seems. He nods back. 

“Morning.” His eyebags are dark with a lack of sleep. Upon closer inspection, his whole everything screams sleep deprivation, perhaps a bit more so than usual. His messy hair seems particularly unkempt today. “You're doing prep again today.”

“I figured.” 

“You need to get better about cleaning your station.” His words are full to the brim with irritation. “I keep having to clean it after you.”

“I thought I was—” You stop. Calm down, you think, but it's getting harder and harder to repeat. “Sorry. I didn't realize.”

“I told you the other day that it was dirty. Were you even paying attention?”

“Of course I was!” Annoyance bubbles over inside of you, potent and unbridled. Carmy barely reacts to your raised voice. Somehow, that pisses you off more.  The cap on your contained anger has popped off, and there's no fitting it back on. “Are you always like this towards your employees?”

“Like what?”

“Like an asshole?” You're too irritated to hold yourself back. 

“Depends. Are you always like this with your boss?” He retorts immediately. 

“I don't usually have sex with my boss, so no, I suppose not,” you respond stupidly, and that makes him go dead silent. He narrows his eyes, fixes you with his gaze. Like you're a new problem that needs solving or something like that.

God damnit, you think to yourself. Why'd you have to say that?

“You've been thinking about it.” The air feels thicker, suddenly.

“I never said that.”

“Then why did you mention it?” Shit. “You said you were going to do better.”

“And I have been. I've been trying to do everything you've been telling me to do.” You don't know why you take a step towards him. “You said you were gonna be nicer.”

“And I have been,” he echoes, and his sincerity makes you roll your eyes. 

“Bullshit! You've been nit-picking me all week!”

“We have standards here, and you need to learn how to follow them. That's all.”

“You're right! I'm learning,” you argue, throwing exasperated hands up in the air. “Cut me some fucking slack!”

“Then learn. Improve.” He slams a hand down on the aluminum surface next to you, enclosing you partially in. Being this close to him, you can really see how dark his dark circles are. You could easily move to the side if you wanted to, but something in you stays put. “There's no excuse for a dirty workspace in a kitchen. I thought you would know that already.”

“I'm so fucking sorry, chef,” you spit back with about as much venom as you can muster. Which, right now, is a lot. 

That shifts something inside him. You see it flash across his face—surprise, anger, and then…something else.

“Dirty work station and a dirty mouth,” he murmurs. His voice is lower, quieter, and it sounds just like how it did in the walk-in. You hate how that change instantly makes your heart pick up speed. “You think you get a pass to act like this because of what happened in the walk-in?”

“You motherfucker,” you hiss, meeting his glare with your own. “So now you're going to acknowledge it? And for the record, I get to act however the fuck I want. Especially with someone like you.”

“Someone like me.” He doesn't ask you to elaborate. He just laughs, breathy and condescending, and he's so close you can feel his breath fan across your face. “You think you're above all this, don't you?”

“What?” The question takes you so off guard that it almost dissipates the strange mix of anger and arousal simmering in your gut. 

“I know it doesn't feel good to have to take orders from someone you hate, but here's the thing. You have to.” He's not smiling, but you swear he's getting some sort of sick satisfaction from all this. Why else would he be saying any of this shit?

“I could leave right now if I wanted to,” you threaten him. “You won't be able to find anyone else that wants to work in this shithole of a place.”

“You're right. You could leave if you really wanted to.” His eyes narrow curiously at you. “Then why haven't you?”

You’re well within your right to leave already—it checks all the boxes. Chaotic work environment. Awful management. General workplace misconduct. Unprofessionalism between coworkers. You suppose you're partially to blame for that last one, but still. 

If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you told yourself. You're not sure why you're not listening to your own advice. The simple truth of the matter, though, is that other jobs won't have him. They won't have the man that's been keeping you up at night, the man that you want to simultaneously devour and destroy. They won't have Carmen Berzatto, and for some reason, that's all it's going to take.

You don't understand yourself. It scares you, but not enough. Not enough to leave.

“...I don't know why I haven't left yet,” you say quietly after a while. “I have no clue.”

“I see.” If he's dissatisfied with your answer, he doesn't show it. “Then for the time you're here, let's make one thing clear.”

“What is it now?” You sigh.

“I'm in charge here,” he whispers. His other hand is on the counter now. You're completely blocked in. “I'm the one who runs this place, so you're going to be good and listen to me when I speak.”

“You're not really giving me a lot of incentive, chef.” You lower your gaze to the counters next to you. “Maybe if you gave me something to work with.” You don't mean for it to come out as suggestive as it does, but with him surrounding you like this… 

“Incentive?” He brings a hand to your face, tucking his fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back to him. His touch is achingly gentle, but it forces it to look straight into his eyes. Your fidgety gaze catches glances of the dark blue speckles that border his pale iris. “Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart's pounding like sprinting feet thudding on concrete. You can't place what feelings are excitement or anxiety or both, but maybe no separation exists. Shutting your eyes was a weak attempt to temporarily block him out, but now all you can focus on is the sensation of his rough hand on your hot face. 

Hesitantly, you open your eyes to face him. Ice blue and dark circles. His intense stare is difficult to match, but you try. 

“What do you want from me?” You ask quietly. 

“I want you to clean your station. Think you can do that?”

“Don't patronize me. Of course I can. I just—happened to forget.”

“Hm.” He smiles briefly. It's just a bit mocking. “You don't have a good track record so far, so you'll have to prove it to me.”

“...And how would I do that?”

“Depends,” he replies vaguely. “Depends on what you want.”

“What I want? I thought you were supposed to be in charge.”

“When I touched you, you told me you wanted to touch me.” The realization clicks in your head. “Do you still want that?”

You hesitate. Memories of the walk-in flood in. You remember the silhouette of his tight jeans over his bulge, and you ache. You shouldn't say yes. You really shouldn't. A distant voice says, you don't want to do this. What have you been telling yourself? This is a bad idea.

Unfortunately, it's far past a matter of want anymore. It's a matter of need.

“Yes,” you whisper back. Your fate is sealed. “I do.”

That's how you find yourself in the cramped bathroom with him. It's dark with one of the lightbulbs having gone out, making it feel even smaller. An eerie green cast coats the room. 

“You're going to show me that you can listen. That you can clean up after your messes.” He's leaned up against the wall, broad hands unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes shamelessly zero in on the motion. “Think you can do that much?”

“Of course I can,” you reply, but it comes out a lot softer than intended. 

“Good.” You force your eyes away from the outline of his bulge in his boxers to look at his face. His darkened eyes are trained on you. “Get on your knees.”

Oh, you think. So this is how it's gonna go.

You wish you could say that you hesitate even a little bit, that there’s even a shred of contemplation left in you. However, there isn't any of that remaining. Obediently, you fall to your knees, resting them against the cold, hard bathroom floor. You're at eye level with his unbuttoned jeans. Slowly, you raise your eyes to look at him. 

His downturned face is framed by wild strands of hair. Looking down at you casts darker shadows across his face, but not enough to hide his expression. It's an odd mix of hunger and what you think to be admiration. Surely not, but that's immediately the thought that comes to mind. 

“Waiting for directions, chef,” you murmur. 

“Mm. Right,” he says, like he was lost in thought. “You look better like this.”

“Watch it,” you warn him. “I could still bite your dick off.” To that, he just briefly smiles, and then it's gone.

He's pulled his black pants down just enough to let his clothed bulge hang over the waistband. The sight of it goes straight to the simmer starting in your gut. You watch his veined hand disappear into his boxers. He's doing this far too slowly for your taste. 

Finally, he pulls out his cock, nearly completely stiffened, and you can't deny the way you begin to salivate. 

You were right. It's big, though not just in length. His cock is thick. You immediately know you won't be able to take the full length of him into your mouth, but what fits is going to be a stretch. You're already imagining how those bulging veins are going to feel against the flat of your tongue. 

“Use your mouth for something other than talking back to me. Make me come,” Carmy orders quietly. “Enough direction for you?”

“Shut the hell up,” you mutter, ignoring the feeling of the growing heat inside you, and you pull the reddened, shiny tip of his cock between your lips. 

His pre-come mixes with the saliva on your tongue. You savor the taste of his salty musk, suckling slowly, and you hear him exhale shakily above you. Looks like you've been given something of an opportunity to get him back for the walk-in. Not repayment—payback. The distinction is important. 

When you pull back, thin strings of spit connect the pink head to your glistening lips. One of your hands moves to hold the base of his cock as you close the gap again. You drag your tongue down the side of his length, licking the thick vein you were eyeing earlier. You feel him twitch. 

“Do that again,” he breathes. Without question, your tongue retraces its path, running back over the line of spit it created. That gets you a quiet, strangled moan, and it's music to your ears. 

“Is this part sensitive?” You ask as you stroke the vein with your thumb. You suck your way down the vein again, making small, wet seals of pleasure. 

“Somewhat.” He sounds good like this, breathless and flustered. A smile twitches on your lips. You lick across the inside of your hand, wetting it before lazily curling it around his cock. He slides effortlessly in your grasp. 

“You gonna come already?” You can't help but tease. He's surprisingly reactive, more so than you would've thought. It's not that you're complaining—it's not that at all. The sound of his low groans is making you drip. 

“Hah—no. You'll have to work harder than that.” You feel a hand pushing back your hair, and that makes you raise your head towards him. His touch is surprisingly gentle. You watch the movement of his lips when he speaks. “Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue.”

You can't quite figure out what it is about all of this that makes you submit. Just moments ago, you wanted to wring your hands around his throat. It was far too easy to abandon your anger and kneel in front of him. Maybe it's the incomprehensibly part of you that undeniably needs his validation. Maybe it's the soft, low tone of his voice, gentle yet commanding. Either way, it has you obeying with a thought in your mind. 

You do as he says. You part your lips and extend your tongue. As your eyes flutter upwards towards him, you're struck with the impression that you must look obscene. 

“Perfect,” he whispers, and just the one word sends something of a euphoric rush through you. “Doin’ so good for me.” 

You soak up the praise, basking in the warmth of it. Then, Carmy spits onto your tongue, and his saliva slides towards the back of your mouth. 

You can't hide your surprise. Your breath hitches, but you don't say anything. Fuck, that should've made you angry, but it just made your clit throb painfully hard. 

He drags his thumb down your tongue, slow and sensual. You have half the mind to suck on it until he glides the head of his cock on your tongue, leading it into the heat of your mouth. 

“Ah—” You lose the words you were going to say, along with the empty space in your mouth. The tip of his cock's nearing the back of your throat. You breathe shakily through your nose. You were right again—you can't take him fully in. It's enough of a stretch as it is. 

“Fuck, that's it…” Carmy sighs. “Just like that…”

His hand holding your hair turns into a tighter grip as you begin sucking up and down his cock. It's an awful mess, the size of him forcing spit to drip down your chin. It's not just that, though. He's thrusting his cock back into your mouth quicker and quicker. You wish he would slow down so you could lean back and suck on his dribbling tip, but his hand has you anchored. 

Time slows as he starts fucking your mouth. Your hands fall to your hands. Your knees are starting to hurt. You care surprisingly little about that fact, instead opting to care about rubbing your clit as quickly as possible. When you get your hands under your underwear, you find your whole pussy already smeared in wetness. You've seeped through the fabric. 

When he pulls his cock out of your mouth (or rather, when he tugs you off), you think he's going to give you a new order. Or that he's going to say something. You don't realize what's really happening until it's too late. 

You watch him bring a hand to his cock. He strokes it twice, keeping his hand tight in your hair, and with a low groan, he comes.

With his hand on you, you can't move away. Not that you try. When the first glob of cum streaks your cheek, you freeze. All you can do is pause as he comes on your face. Even your hand under your pants has frozen, your palm pressed up tight against your pulsing clit. 

With each rope of cum across your face, you feel yourself throb. Carmy is a sight to behold as he comes, long-lashed eyes falling shut with his parted, gasping mouth. He's jaggedly fisting his cock as he just keeps coming. You feel the cum starting to drip down the slopes of your skin, even your lips. 

By the time he's come down, he's left your face an absolute mess. Your jaw feels heavy, and his cum is hot against your swollen lips. You've come down as well, and it's left you with the irate realization that he just came all over your face without asking.

“You could've at least told me you were gonna come on my face,” you snap. Your cheeks are burning. Your argument feels weak with how worked up you feel over watching and feeling him come, but the irritation is still very real. 

“Clean your station, chef,” he responds, infuriatingly smug even as he catches your breath. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Are you kidding me?” Of course. That's what this all was. A fucked up lesson, a twisted sort of discipline. 

“I'm not.” He uncurls his fist from your hair. “Stand up—your knees must hurt.”

You pause for a second before you shakily get back up on your legs. One minute he's messily fucking your mouth, and the other, he's worrying over your sore knees. He continues to become more and more confusing. 

“You're gonna make me clean up your mess.” You catch your face in the small, shitty rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. God, are you a filthy sight, cum and spit all over your face. 

“I had to clean up yours for the past week, so yeah.” He's zipped himself back up. He's clean, not a drop of anything on him. Unlike the mess parading itself on your face. At least there's not any in your hair. 

“This is not the same. This is—” You frustratedly search for the right words. He's remaining as stoic as ever. “You didn't even kiss me,” you blurt out, and as soon as you say it, you regret it. 

Carmy stills. You can't tell what he's thinking with his unmoving expression. You're sure he's about to insult you again, but then he’s leaning in and sealing his lips against yours. 

You're stunned. A small noise escapes you as he kisses you deeply, thoroughly. His tongue drags up a trail of cum and spit up your chin and back into your mouth. Or back into his. You're unsure, with the way they're all blending together. 

“There,” Carmy murmurs against your lips. When he pulls back, you see his tongue running across his lips, collecting the pearlescent sheen that was on them. 

“Um—” You start and immediately stop. You’re speechless. 

“Now clean up.” You hear the sound of distant company. Your other coworkers must be arriving now. “I expect improvement now, chef. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply bitterly. “I suppose I met your expectations, then?”

“Sure. Closely enough, anyway.” Potent aggravation hits you like a cast iron pan. He drags his thumb in one last infuriating line across your cheek. He sucks it into his mouth and cleans it off. “Don't take too long. I have a lot planned for you today.”

Without waiting for a response, Carmy leaves. He leaves you alone in the shitty bathroom with a now flickering lightbulb, left to clean his cum on your face with water, hand soap, and thin paper towels. You don't know if you've ever been so angry before. 

The anger doesn't make the arousal go away. You rub your needy clit to orgasm, your back pressed up against the wall like Carmy's just a moment ago.

As you come with Carmy's cum slowly trailing on your face, you wonder if there is any coming back from this. If there's anything left to be done to stop whatever's happening. You can't come up with any solutions or suggestions. Only one thing is undeniably clear:

You hate Carmen Berzatto, and you're already thinking of ways to get his cock in your mouth again soon. 

~

taglist: @zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @thehouseofevangelista @alastorssimp @talas-starlight @jmamas92

[diazsdimples]

bucktommy + "To be fair, that wasn't the stupidest thing I could've done"

"To be fair, that wasn't the stupidest thing I could've done," Buck pants as he leans against the cool, brick wall. He pulls off his helmet and runs his fingers through his hair, knowing he's likely smeared soot all over his face. The building is still smouldering behind them, but Eddie and Ravi both have the hoses directed towards the flames. It's under control. Tommy looks like he could explode. His boyfriend is usually very calm and level headed, perfect traits for a first responder, but right now he looks set to rip Buck's head off. "Wasn't the stupidest - you could have - Evan, are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie and Ravi's heads turn towards the outburst and Buck winces, not wanting their first proper fight as a couple to be on full display for all their coworkers to witness. He grabs Tommy's arm and pulls him around the side of the building, away from any flapping ears. "Tommy, it's okay, I'm fine. She's fine. We're fine," he reassures Tommy as he reaches into the pocket of his turnout and pulls out the reason behind his sudden expedition into a burning building without a second's thought. The kitten is tiny in his hands, her fur rumpled and soot smudges over the beautiful, white coat. When the little girl he and Tommy had pulled from the building had said her kitten was still stuck inside the inferno, Buck hadn't hesitated before sprinting back into the building, not even with Bobby, Tommy and Eddie all yelling at him. He just hadn't anticipated Tommy to follow him back in. "Yeah but you could have been not fine! I agreed to help this shift as a favour to Bobby, not so I could get a front row seat to my boyfriend burning alive!" Buck swallows thickly and transfers the kitten into one hand so he can reach out to cup Tommy's face with the other. Tommy doesn't meet his eye, instead looking resolutely behind Buck. His jaw ticks as Buck strokes along his cheekbone with his thumb. "Tommy, I-I'm not going to burn alive. I was just gonna get her and come right back," he explains. Tommy's got to understand, right? Buck's a professional, he'd never do anything to put himself in any real danger. If he thought he couldn't get to the kitten before the building collapsed or got too hot then he would never have set foot in it. Tommy finally meets Buck's eyes then, and Buck is alarmed to see that his eyes are swimming behind a film of tears. Fuck, he's really fucked up here hasn't he? "Tommy, I-" "I can't lose you, Evan," Tommy cuts in, circling a hand around Buck's wrist and lowering his hand from Tommy's jaw. "Not like that." Buck swallows again, and he must tighten his grip on the kitten because she lets out a pitiful meow, her tiny tongue rasping against his glove as she licks at him. "I'm sorry," he whispers, hanging his head as the gravity of the situation washes over him. Tommy thought he was going to lose Buck. Tommy thought Buck was going to die. "I didn't mean to scare you." Tommy curls his fingers under Buck's chin and lifts his head, forcing eye contact. "I know you didn't, I just - baby, you mean so much to me," Tommy says, his voice raw and choked with emotion as he searches Buck's face, his eyes drinking in every inch of Buck as if he's worried it's the last time he'll be able to see him again. "Please, please don't ever do that again." "I won't, Tommy, I swear I won't," Buck promises, and he leans forwards to kiss Tommy softly. Tommy responds instantly, wrapping his arm around Buck's waist and pulling him close. Their lips move in tandem with one another, Tommy running his tongue along the seam of Buck's lips until he opens, and Buck licking back in apology. "Hey," Buck says as they pull away, resting their foreheads together. "I love you." Tommy huffs out a small laugh and kisses Buck again, lighter this time but no less emotionally charged. "I love you too."

Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!

(once again tagging @theotherbuckley)

[lunamadhatter99]

Charm

Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

I was inspired.

If you want to be tagged in future Charlie work... let me know

@once-upon-an-imagine here's your tag.

Summary: time to meet the family.

Warnings: none. Too much cuteness.

"I don't think I can do this," I mutter as I lay down on the bed, with Charlie standing next to me.

"Yes, you can," he reassures me, with a gentle tapping on my leg, "They're gonna love you!"

"No, they won't," I complain.

"Well... your family loved me, and I, too, was scared! Yet it went well!" He tries to make me reason.

I look up at him, sitting up straight, staring into his eyes.

"You got it easier. You had to charm two people, my mom and my grandfather, " I say, holding up two fingers, "I have to charm 8 people!"

Charlie simply smiles at me, so sweetly I could just melt on the spot of I wasn't so terrified. He moves his hand to cup my cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb.

"Love, my absolute, gorgeous, funny, cute, love of my life, perfect reason of my existence" he starts making hard for me to hold a giggle at his antics "You can charm a whole Great Hall at Hogwarts without even trying. No effort, everyone at your feet."

I roll my eyes but can't help but chuckle again.

"No, don't you roll those pretty eyes at me, young lady! It's true, " he laughs, too."You have nothing to worry about. I promise you!"

"But..."

"Nooooooooo!" He pouts."Nope. Shush. They already love you and.."

"You told them about me!?" I widen my eyes, and I lay back down trying to hide under the covers.

"Love?" I hear him laughing softly."Love, c'mon out."

I sit up again.

"Of course I told them about you. You are the love of my life, I had to talk about you." He laughs again, holding my hands in his."They can't wait to meet you, and they already love you, "

I sigh deeply. I look up at him, trying to find any sign of mockery, but, unfortunately for me, I don't find any.

"Fine," I whine. "Fine, we'll go see your family,"

"Yes!" He cheers, standing up, taking me with him and hugging me. "They're gonna love you, sweetheart."

"Yeah... yeah, alright." I wave him off and just get to work and prepare my bags.

------------

"You're okay, love, you're fine." Charlie caresses my back as we walk closer to his childhood's home.

"Yeah... I know... I am..." I stutter out, breathing heavily.

"You're shaking," he informs me. "Okay, hey. Look at me. "

He stops me and turns me to look at him.

"Yes?"

"Breath." He breathes in and waits for me to do the same.

I take a deep breath and mimic him.

"In and out. Good girl, " he smiles.

"Let's get it over with, " I almost beg.

He grabs my hand, and together, we walk to the front door.

Charlie knocks once, and the door is already opening, revealing a short red-haired woman with the biggest smile on her face I've ever seen. She must be Charlie's mother.

"Charlie!" She exclaims quickly, hugging Charlie.

"Hi, mom," he says, hugging her back, "I can't breathe, mom." He chuckles breathlessly.

She lets him go and turns to me.

"Aw, and you must be Y/n. It's so nice to finally meet you, my dear" she coos.

"So nice meeting you, Mrs Weasley." I hold my hand out to shake her hand, but she quickly moves it and cages me in a big hug.

"Just call me Molly, dear," she says, letting me go, "C'mon, let's go inside."

"See? Nothing to worry about, " Charlie whispers to me as we get into the house.

"Just one out of eight." I take a breath as I'm led into what I think is the living room.

"Charlie!" A red-haired girl runs up to Charlie, giving him a quick hug, "finally!"

She doesn't look much older than thirteen, I think.

"C'mon, we're not that late!" Charlie defends himself."By the way, Ginny, this is Y/n, my girlfriend, "

"Hi," I timidly wave at her.

She looks at me for a second, then smiles brightly and turns to her brother.

"She's too pretty for you, Char," she teases, and I can't help but laugh a little at that.

"It's so nice to be home," Charlie sighs sarcastically. "Don't laugh!" He turns to me to shove me a little.

"I'm sorry, love," I say, holding his hand.

" 'love' ? You two are so cute, " Ginny exclaims.

"Look who finally decided to join us," a voice calls.

"You took your time," another voice speaks.

I look up and see two identical red heads coming up to us.

"Love? These two are Fred and George." He introduces us. "Don't trust them," he adds in a whisper.

"Hey!" They say together.

"That's rude!"

"Very rude, brother," one of them comes in front of me, taking my hand. "Don't listen to him. We are not that bad," he kisses my hand.

"Right. We are true gentlemen. " The other one moves his twin out of the way to kiss my hand, too.

"Yeah... ask Ron what they did to his teddy bear when he was younger, " Charlie accuses.

"What..?" I say with a small giggle.

"Are you sure you want him?"

"You can still back down, you know."

"Alright, leave her alone!" Charlie laughs and leads me further into the room with the rest of his family.

"Hello, everyone." He waves at everyone."This is Y/n, my girlfriend, "

"Hello, it's a pleasure being here." I wave too and look at all the faces.

"Oh, my dear girl, we finally meet you. Charlie told us so much about you. " A tall man stands up from the couch to get closer. "I'm Arthur. Charlie's father"

"Oh, pleasure to meet you, Mr Weas-"

"Arthur, please. You're family now, no need for formalities, " he says, sending me a smile that I return, then he's off to the kitchen, probably to help his wife.

"Alright, that one there is Bill," Charlie points at a long-haired man sitting on the couch.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi, lovely," he smiles.

"Don't flirt with my girlfriend, thanks," Charlie complains.

"I just said 'hi,' " Bill defends himself, raising his hands up in the air.

"I'm Ron," a much younger boy stands up and walks to us, I was just in time to notice he was pushed by a brunette sitting beside him.

"Nice to meet you," I shake his hand.

"I'm Hermione Granger, Ronald's friend." The girls stand up as well.

"I'm Y/n L/n," I say, shaking her hand as well. "Wait... Granger?" I ask, and she nods."Are your parents dentists? Or maybe a relative is?"

"Yeah. My parents" she smiles gently.

"My parents used to take me to them, I think, when I was younger!" I explain.

"Really?"

"Yes, I remember them being so nice. I was never scared," I laugh. " they're still working, I hope,"

"Oh yes, they are," she answers.

"It's so nice to hear this."

"Oh, Harry. Hi, " Charlie greets, so I look past Hermione to see a boy with glasses walking in.

"Hey, Charlie. How are you?" He asks.

"I'm great, hey, this is my girlfriend Y/n."

"Hey," I say, going to shake his hand, and while doing this, I notice a scar on his face.

Oh..

"I'm Harry," he simply says.

"Nice to meet you." I smile gently at him.

"Dinner is ready!" Molly screams from the kitchen.

"Finally!" Ron exclaims.

"How are you always hungry?" Hermione asks as she follows everyone into the kitchen.

Harry sends me an amused smile and walks away.

"Wait..." I say, holding Charlie's hand. "I met your parents, 2, I met your little sister, 3, the twins 5, Ron, 6, Bill, 7... Hermione and Harry are not your siblings... isn't anyone missing?" I ask, confused.

"Yeah... I don't think Percy's gonna join us. Too busy at the ministry, " he says, almost defeated, so I decide not to press the subject.

"Oh... okay... it's alright. " I smile at him." C'mon, can't wait to finally taste your mom's food. "

We arrive in the kitchen, and there are two open seats left... on opposite sides.

"C'mon, dear, come sit here." Molly jokes, pointing at the seat next to Ginny but still close to her.

"You'll be fine," Charlie whispers to me before going to sit next to his father.

I take a seat, Ginny is on my left, Molly on hers, on my right sit Hermione and in front of me there's Bill.

"Free yourself for a bit." Bill jokes, catching Charlie's attention.

"How about you sit here, brother?" Charlie offers, pointing at where Harry is sitting, in front of him.

"Charlie, behave" Arthur scolds his son, who simply sit, but I can sense he's keeping an eye on his brother, all while everyone is laughing and just goes back and their own business.

"Now, dear, tell me all about it." Molly starts as she puts a generous slice of shepherd's pie on my plate. "How did you two meet?"

"Oh," I nervously laugh. "Well.."

"Mom, don't make her nervous," Ginny says to her mother.

"No, no, it's fine, really," I reassure them. "I... well, I had just finished my seventh year at Hogwarts and"

"You too were at Hogwarts. How nice!" She comments, that huge gentle smile always on her face.

"Yes, but I've always been very quiet, so I don't think he has ever actually noticed me before we met there, actually," I say.

"Weasleys are louder by nature," Ginny assures me, smiling too.

"He sure is. Anyway, I had finished my last year and I wanted to take a year for myself, after my father's death it's been kind of hard, helping at home when I wasn't at Hogwarts and... yeah, I wanted to paint magical creatures, so I travelled all the way to Romania."

"You paint?" Bill asks, and I nod."Oh wow, you will have to show us some of your work, "

"Yeah, maybe next time I'll bring some." I smile at him.

"Go on," Ginny urges. She looks at me with dreamy eyes.

"I arrive in this camp, and I was almost expecting and hoping they could show me more accurate pictures of dragons to take inspiration from. At first, I found this, I have to say, very rude man, asking me constantly why I was there and why I was bothering them. He also almost threw away the drawing I was showing him to explain why I was there.

"What?! Please tell me Charlie arrived to tell him something, " Ginny exclaims.

"Uhm... no." I laugh softly."No, I spent, I think, a good hour and a half dealing with this man, "

"Oh poor thing," Molly sighs. "And then?"

"I managed to get onto the camp and look at some pictures and drawings, and I started to paint something. So I'm sitting there, painting quietly when suddenly something fell right beside me. Or someone fell right beside me. " I laugh at the memory.

"Really?" Bill asks very amused by his brother's first impression.

"Yes. Not only did he scare me, but he fell on my oil paint, getting it all over him. Especially on his face."

"Oh, that would've been such a great view," Bill laughs.

"It was," I confirm.

"And then?" Ginny asks.

"Then he started to apologise, profusely, saying he would've bought back all the water paint. But I assured him he didn't need to, since my grandfather owed a shop with all the materials I needed."

"Oh my dear boy," Molly tries to hold back the laughter but fails.

"We started to talk, and once I told him I wanted to paint a dragon... well.. that same night, he sneaked me back into the camp and let me meet one of the dragons there. I painted, and he sat there watching me the whole time."

"Awe." Ginny sighed, still that dreamy look on her.

"I hope he's been a gentleman since then," Molly says.

"He is, I promise. He's really great, I can promise you, you did a great job. " I smile at her, and she just waves me off, but I know my words meant a lot.

---------------

We spent the rest of the dinner talking about everything else. I got to talk with Hermione about her parents and about being a muggle-born and the fact that Ron, Harry and her are aboutto start their fourth year, I also got to talk with Ginny about Quidditch and with Bill about his job as curse-breaker at the Bank.

I was having a really good time with everybody that I didn't notice it was getting late.

As everybody is going to bed, Charlie walks up to me, takes my hand, and leads me outside.

"So?" He asks.

"What?" I ask back.

"It went well," he grins.

"Shut up!" I laugh, covering my eyes, feeling embarrassed.

"They love you! I knew it. " I feel him hugging me tightly.

"Yeah, fine, you win. I was scared for nothing, " I say, pushing him away, but he grabs my hand and pulls me back to him.

"Exactly." He keeps grinning.

"They wanted to know about how we've met," I tell him.

"Oh, merlin... now Bill's gonna make fun of me for the rest for my life, " he laughs defeated.

"Sorry, but your sister was so into the story and had that dreamy look on her face..." I explain.

"It's alright, love," he kisses my nose. " I'm happy you felt at home with them. I'm not sure about Bill, but I can't kick him out. "

"Don't be mean," I laugh. "You know I have my eyes on you, only you,"

"I know." He smiles proudly.

"He does have great hair," I murmur.

"What?" He widens his eyes, and I laugh, bringing him in for a kiss.

"Your hair is not so bad either, don't worry,"

He laughs with me, holding me close to him, stroking my sides lovingly.

"You know," he says after a moment. "You were wrong earlier,"

"Uh?"

"I did notice you when we were at Hogwarts," he says, and I let out a gentle laugh, earning a confused look.

"How could you?" I say .I was three years younger than you, and I was... like... very quiet, Charlie. I'm not mad, if that's what you're thinking. " I smile at him to reassure him.

"You liked to paint in the astronomy tower" he starts "you came to the Quidditch matches, yes, but you sat as far as possible so you weren't getting in people's way and they not in yours. You always ate sitting as close as possible to the doors in the Great Hall. And..."he kisses my nose again,"and you drew a new creature for Hagrid every week. "

I look at him confused. How does he know all of this?

"How?" I finally ask.

"Told you. I did notice you, " he smiles.

"But why did you say anything?" I chuckle.

"I don't know, honestly. I guess with me moving to Romania, I didn't want you to feel like I was abandoning you or feel like you had to follow me... I didn't want to break our hearts. " he lets out a nervous chuckle. "It sounds stupid now... seeing how we turned out"

"A little." I chuckle too, "better late than never, people say. Right?"

"Right," he agrees, I kiss him softly. "I love you,"

"I love you too, Charlie." I move my hand to caress his cheek, and he leans into my touch.

"Aaww!" We hear from above us.

We look up in time to see Ginny watching us from an open window and then being dragged inside by Hermione.

"Sorry," she says apologetically before disappearing into the house.

Charlie and I look at each other, laughing.

"Alright, c'mon. Let's go get some sleep, my love. " Charlie leads me back inside.

"Let's," I agree as I follow him.

It did go well after all.

[split-spectrum]

Concessions

Chapter 4

Pairing: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, orgasm denial, edging, porn with very little plot

Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that forbids him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him. The rules of the trial are very clear. You make it your personal mission to find every exception.

☆☆☆

"Perhaps you should go," Obi Wan says, turning away from you after he closes the door to his quarters.

"I will," you assure him, already coming closer, not willing to let him put any distance between you. "Just as soon as we're finished."

He glances back at you, raising his brows in that helpless way of his, looking decidedly done with your antics, yet ravenously aroused despite it all. "We both have commitments in the morning."

You step around him, sliding your hands beneath his robe and dropping it to the floor, running your palms down his chest and pushing him firmly backward. "We'll be quick."

When his back hits the wall, a soft huffing noise leaves him. "Like we were in the detention cell?"

Your cheeks flush. Teasing him with soft licks, pulling off just to make him moan for you - to hear him plainly confess that you'd made him feel good... His accusation is embarrassingly well-founded. You clearly hadn't been speeding to the finish.

"Have it your way," you answer, voice as coolly detached as you can manage while everything in you is pulled tight, burning to touch him again. "I won't even use my mouth."

Your hand cups him through his clothes and he looks pained, almost sick. The creases in the corners of his eyes deepen and his face contorts into a scowl even as he lifts his chin and rests his head back against the wall to get a better view. He watches under heavy eyelids as you gather his pants and tug them down.

You lean into him, loving the way he twitches in your hand, and whisper close to his ear, "It'll be fast, promise."

He's still wearing that disapproving face when you squeeze him, already hard and throbbing between his legs. He's so pent up you can almost feel the heat radiating off of him. No matter how hard he pinches his brow, it doesn't help his case one bit. His eyes haven't left your hand for a moment. When you tug him, hot and dry and quick, your name falls from his mouth in a reflexively disapproving tone.

You just keep murmuring warm words against his neck. "Relax. Let me make you feel good."

A soft string of expletives drift through his clenched teeth. He's sucking air, hissing, trying to keep the stutter in his breath under control.

"I'll be honest, Obi Wan," you purr right next to his ear. "I am glad you didn't ask someone else. Having the chance to do this has been..."

You started the sentence with the intention to keep nudging him toward orgasm as fast as possible. Just running your mouth with whatever seductive words came to mind. But you've loosed a little too much of the truth, and you find you can't finish the thought.

Instead, you flick your wrist and curl your palm up and over his head, dragging through the precum that's been slowly pouring out of him since the detention cell. Your other hand slips down to cup his swollen balls, and he makes a strangled gasping sound.

"Fuck, mmm, there, it's-" he huffs through shaky breaths.

Again, he's saying, without saying it. You eagerly obey, stroking his cock and gently playing with his balls until his eyes have rolled back and he's starting to murmur filthy words you've never heard before.

"Oh, I'm close-" he chokes out after a few more moments of this; hardly any effort on your part. You're heaving your breaths right along with his, and you can almost feel how wide your pupils must be blown out right now, watching him writhing at your touch, right at the edge of coming. You feel perverted, eyes glued to his cock, only tearing up every few seconds to glimpse his sweaty, delirious face, waiting for the moment when his suffering turns to ecstasy.

"Come for me," you push. "I want to see it."

I want to taste it, you think, but you wonder if it might be too much to admit.

As if it's the first time it's occurred to him, Obi Wan opens his eyes to toss a quick, frantic glance at the table, and then around him.

"Blast, I hadn't-" his eyes roll closed again when you speed up your strokes, not wanting him to get distracted. His voice goes strained and airy. "Where- where shall I-"

It's so fastidious of him, wondering if he should make a mess of your clothes or the floor, and you can't help a little gush of adoration for him at the sight of his helpless, urgent face. You're about to give him your answer by falling to your knees when you hear a faint knocking sound.

Both of your hands still, and he drops the hem of his tunic to cover himself. Your eyes flick up to his.

"What was that?" you whisper, desperately hoping you can both agree to pretend you didn't hear it.

He swallows, giving a shake of head before looking frustratedly at the door.

You softly graze him a few times, not willing to give up. Not again.

"Master?" a small voice calls through the wood.

Obi Wan's eyes close and the mussed hair at the back of his head meets the wall as he releases a long, slow breath through his nose.

"Just a moment," he calls back, and you have to fight not to audibly groan.

You let him go when he tugs his pants back up, and you back across the room when he goes for the door. He stops to seemingly gather himself, silent and unmoving for a long moment before he opens it. The lights of the city illuminate the hall window behind the small figure in the doorway.

"Anakin," Obi Wan says with a slight tone of concern. "What is it?"

The boy isn't quite meeting his eyes. "I... had a nightmare."

Obi Wan sighs while Anakin looks off to the side. "My padawan..." he says softly, "we've discussed this before. You're getting too old for this... this..."

You can see, even in the dim light, how Anakin's little brow tightens, his downcast stare turning hard and sullen. Obi Wan doesn't finish his sentence. He just sighs again. "Come in."

Anakin finds you standing in the kitchen, pretending to find something to drink in the conservator. "Hi Ani," you greet him with a warm smile. It's not his fault, after all, that your evening is now hideously and irrevocably ruined. "You okay?"

His questioning stare turns shy again. "Yes, I'm okay."

"You can sleep in the main room," Obi Wan calls from behind him, already laying down blankets on the couch in what seems to be part of a too-familiar routine.

Anakin blushes and turns around, clearly not having expected to explain himself to anyone besides Obi Wan. Gratefully, you put down your juice and head for the door.

"We can work on that report some other time, Obi Wan," you tell him, catching his violently repressed gaze as you leave. "See you later."

"Of course," he answers, short and clipped. "Some other time."

--

'Some other time' arrives more swiftly than you'd expected.

You've seen more of him in the temple today than you can stand, really. You'd been obligated to participate in a training exhibition for a class of padawan learners, and when you'd walked in to see him in a tight-fitting undershirt, training rod in hand and soft, billowing pants hung loosely around his waist, you'd nearly turned around and walked out. The grappling portion of the demonstration had bordered on torture.

And at the end of the day, finally able to find some time alone in your quarters, there's one task more pressing than all others. You'd hardly made it through the door before you were stripping.

Perhaps it's unbefitting a young Jedi to find herself flushed, straining to remove her clothes, and shuffling beneath her covers to touch herself while thinking of another Jedi's warm breath tickling her ear, his legs wrapped around her waist as he'd pinned her to the ground. But you don't much care, at the moment. You're a luminous being, to be sure, but your body has been ignored for higher ideals all day.

Your middle finger is just about to brush the tip of your relief when your comlink finds the worst possible time to go off. Sucking air between your teeth, you sit up, pushing the covers back to check the screen and make sure you can ignore the call. Unfortunately, Master Plo's name is illuminated, and you quickly pull on your clothes and become a decent Jedi once again.

"...yes, Master. I'm sorry my last report was a bit further down the timeline than expected..."

"Oh, it isn't? Then how may I..."

"Oh, that's terrible..."

"... No, I have no other pressing matters..."

"... I see. Does- does Obi Wan know that you've asked me? Of course. Yes, I can leave right away..."

And that conversation is how you now find yourself requisitioning a ship at an unreasonably late hour, awaiting the arrival of Obi Wan and his padawan at the docks.

The path you'd charted for Master Plo's operation in the Shaltin Tunnels requires a stop near Florum for refueling. There are no alternate stops due to a recent dispute on Zygeria, meaning the one you'd planned is the only option. Unfortunately for everyone, pirates had gotten wind that there was only one feasible stop for Republic-friendly ships, and had threatened the private operators of the fuel depot, in an effort to commandeer the depot, and the profits. The pirates' plan had backfired, and rather than have their fuel in the hands of brigadeers and losing all their money, the fuel depot halted their supply line and closed business to relocate.

This essentially now means that no traffic can flow through the tunnels, but more importantly, it means that the mercy mission Plo had been planning for months to bring supplies to refugees of the Jedi-Zygerian conflict will be cancelled unless you can find a way to convince the fuel depot to reopen, at least temporarily, with the promise of Jedi protection.

It makes sense for him to have asked you. You're the one with the most up-to-date knowledge of navigating the tunnels. And Obi Wan, though still young, is already gaining a reputation as a skilled negotiator. You're the right team, no doubt.

The fact that heading to the Outer Rim will mean several days of hyperspace travel together, on a small ship, with nothing to do but kill time... that's the part that's making you tap your stylus on your data pad, biting your lip as you check your supply list for the seventh time.

At least it won't be just the two of you. Anakin will take up practically all of his time and attention, and while he's training his apprentice, you'll spend all your extra time in your personal quarters. You check the ship's layout again, to locate them.

Oh, wonderful - you have the largest available ship tonight, and there are no private quarters. Just one shared crew-rest room, with bunks built into the interior wall.

It's fine. Who needs privacy, anyway?

You're brought out of your thoughts when you hear Anakin and Obi Wan's voices approaching. It's hard to pinpoint where they are, in the dim light on the other side of the ship. You can hear them both, but Anakin's sounds fainter.

"Master, please, this isn't fair-"

"Fairness has nothing to do with it, young padawan. I need you to hear my words: Your lightsaber is your life. It's not simply another object, to be easily replaced."

"I know that, Master, I know-"

"If you knew, then you wouldn't be arguing."

You watch Obi Wan emerge from the shadows, talking to the small figure he's holding in his hand. Anakin's holoimage is scowling profusely.

"I shouldn't be punished just because my lightsaber got crushed. Something bad already happened to me, and now you're making it worse."

Obi Wan gives you a slight lift of his eyes in greeting as he nears you, bringing the conversation to an end. "Anakin, this is not a punishment, though it is a lesson. You must stay behind to attend the next gathering in a few days. I will not have you join me on a mission without a weapon."

There's a pause, Anakin's mouth screwed up in what you anticipate to be the start of another argument, but he eventually drops his head. "Yes, Master," he grouses, looking to the side.

"Goodnight, Anakin. May the Force aid you on your journey."

"Goodnight, Master," the sullen voice replies as Obi Wan marches past you, entering the cargo bay of the ship and shutting off his comlink.

You follow him inside, a smirk forthcoming despite your apprehension at hearing that Anakin won't be joining you.

Obi Wan sighs tiredly, then turns to look back at you. "Well, is everything ready?"

"It is," you answer, then let your smirk loose. "Anakin's lost another lightsaber? Hopefully he's learning his lesson this time."

"It isn't a lesson," He says dismissively as he strides over to the pilot's controls, pulling up the ship's schematic. "It's a punishment."

You lift your eyebrows in amusement, following him.

"Either way..." you drawl, folding your arms as you lean against the console next to him, datapad hanging casually over your elbow. "Looks like it's just the two of us."

He looks up at you, then back to the screen, and flicks his eyebrows without looking at you to indicate he'd heard what you said. But he doesn't say anything back.

"So," you go on, carefully testing the waters, "I was wondering... should these be on the list, or no?"

You uncross your arms, turning the datapad so he can see the supply list, scrolled to the bottom where the last item reads 'binders'.

He frowns thoughtfully. "I don't forsee any need to take prisoners."

You shift against the console, loosing a breath. Is he intentionally making this difficult?

"Not for that."

"For-" His face drops. "Oh."

"I could... finish what we started," you offer, mustering your boldness.

"N-no," he stammers. You've never heard him stammer in your life. "I don't, uh..." He tilts his chin down, clearing his throat and evening out his tone. "I think we should focus on our mission."

A few long beats pass while you let your eyes dance over his face, working out his expression. He has to be so pent up right now, but you wouldn't know it from looking. You can't blame him, though, for not wanting to try after the most recent, painful denial.

"Okay," you say softly, a small smile in place. "We can focus on the mission."

You go back to studying your checklists as the bay doors close and Obi Wan locks in your coordinates. The lights of Coruscant are soon replaced with the lights of hyperspace, and all your interruptions and excuses are replaced with the cold, quiet hum of an empty ship.

--

Yawning as the caf finishes brewing, you take out one mug from the ship's small galley, and then a second. It's been a long day-cycle. You've both spent some time settling in, putting your supplies and belongings away, and now there's nothing left to do but to wait and to prepare.

Obi Wan has taken his place right back at the pilot's seat, one leg crossed over the other as he flips through screens on his datapad. You bring the two mugs with you as you make your way back over to him. Hooking your finger out from the side of your caf, you press a button on the wall that slides out a chair, and you bump the other mug against Obi Wan's shoulder as you take your seat.

"Caf?"

He glances at it, then hums his appreciation as he takes it from you. "Thank you."

You study him for a moment, then tilt your head. "Well?"

"Yes?" he asks without looking up.

"I thought we could talk about our plan of approach."

He lifts his gaze. "Our plan?"

You were sipping your drink, but you abruptly stop. "The mission?"

He taps the screen in his lap and it goes dark. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. I have been tasked with negotiations. There is no need for both of us to be involved."

Your eyebrow wrenches violently upward, but you manage to keep your tone calm. "So, if you're the negotiator, that makes me the... what?"

"Navigator," he finishes easily.

"Navi-" You cut yourself off before you raise your voice. Then you try again. "If I didn't know better, I would say It sounds like you expect me to sit on the ship while you do all the work."

"You don't need to stay on the ship, but if you'll allow me the courtesy of taking the lead..."

Allow him the courtesy. You can't deny his skill in manipulation. He's already crowned himself captain of the team, and now he'll pretend to defer to your authority. You can hardly keep from rolling your eyes. But there's no point in arguing, as long as the job gets done.

You take a long sip to maintain your composure. "Alright. So what is your plan, then?"

He straightens his shoulders, then answers simply, "I haven't got a plan." When you widen your eyes, he quickly adds, "It isn't necessary."

"What do you mean it isn't necessary?"

He sighs, then uncrosses his leg and places his caf on the control panel. "Being overprepared before first contact can often do more harm than good. I don't wish to form any opinions until we meet."

You laugh a little, in disbelief. "You don't want to overprepare, so you make no plans at all?"

"The fuel depot is owned by humans, yet we do not know anything about them. Not what system they hail from, their enemies or allies... The only reliable information is that they seek to make credits, and they don't particularly care for pirates."

"Fine. No direct plan of approach," you allow. "Then why not at least practice some possible scenarios?"

"I would rather not."

"You'd rather not." You shake your head. "Why? Why not let me help you?"

"It just isn't necessary."

You let your irritation collapse into silence. If you were giving anyone else the look you're giving him, they would shrink in discomfort. But he meets your hard stare with one of his own, and you feel your pulse beginning to pound.

"I see now. This is about your ego."

You say it, and you stand up and walk away.

You convince yourself you're giving him the unflinching criticism of the Jedi, pointing out his flaws while not sparing his feelings. But as you turn your back to him, reaching again for the caf to top off your cup, you know you said it not only because it's true, but because it felt good.

"You can believe what you like," he says, and you hear him leave his chair. "But I have my own methods, and you should respect that."

You sniff a short laugh, not looking back at him. "Okay, sure. I'll respect your method of removing me from my own mission."

"That isn't a fair assessment. Each of us have certain strengths-"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" you interrupt. "Don't condescend to me, Obi Wan. You want the satisfaction of knowing you saved the day, again."

"I don't want anything, except to help Master Plo accomplish his goals."

"Unless it means that you don't make all the decisions along the way."

Suddenly, he's beside you, clearly tired of talking to your back. He puts his hand on the countertop next to your mug, and catches your eyes. "I don't find this amusing."

You raise your brows. "I wasn't joking."

"I won't have my integrity questioned."

You turn to him, arms folded. "I wasn't questioning your integrity. I just don't understand why you don't see me as an asset. It seems foolish."

He scoffs. "Of course I see you as an asset. And I am not trying to diminish your abilities-"

"It's funny to hear you insist upon that point, and yet-"

"Stars!" Obi Wan finally shouts over you. Then he rolls his eyes, looking off to the side in exasperation. "Why do you have to be so..."

You blink, startled by his outburst, and suddenly aware that you've slowly backed up against the side wall of the small galley area. You cross your arms tighter, bracing your back against it. "So... what?"

"So..." he trails off, seeming to be searching for the right word. "...abrasive."

"Abrasive?"

"Yes, and difficult," he says, voice softer, but holding an edge that hadn't been there before.

You let the comment hang between you, noting the tension in his jaw. He's still staring at you, unflinching. Usually he would apologize right about now. But when he doesn't back down, you tamp down the thrumming in your chest and take a breath before responding with as neutral a tone as you can manage. "If you find me so abrasive and difficult, then why have we been friends for as long as we have?"

He doesn't reply, just closes his mouth and stares through you. It looks like he's trying to come up with an answer, which makes you bristle.

"Why did you ask me for help with the Nikkama if you can't stand to be around me?" you push.

Your question clearly gets under his skin, and several odd emotions swim through his gaze before he finally answers. "Perhaps that was a mistake."

Your stomach drops. You hadn't expected that, but you won't give him the satisfaction of reacting. You shrug yourself up from the wall, making him back up a little, and slide out of the galley to head back to the crew quarters.

"Well, glad we have that clarified. I'm going to have a rest. If I have permission for that, Captain."

He calls your name as you walk away, and you don't bother to look back, pressing the button to close the door behind you.

--

You emerge from the refresher, towel-drying and still very on-edge, much later.

Alone in the crew quarters, you'd found meditation elusive in your current state, and decided to try a shower to clear your mind. It calmed you down a little, but Obi Wan's words are still needling you as you slide into your underclothes. They're going to be spinning in your head for a long time, you realize. Maybe this was a mistake, after all. Just like he'd said.

The soft fabric slips up your thighs as your towel drops to the floor, and you're just closing up the front of your bodice when the door to the room slides open.

Obi Wan doesn't see you at first, crossing over to where you're standing beside the bunks built into the wall. The lights in the room are turned down from when you'd been trying to meditate. When he looks up and sees you, he stops dead where he stands.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately to the floor. "I heard the refresher and I thought... thought I had time to- to..."

He's already halfway back to the door, not finishing his sentence, when you ask bluntly, "To what?"

"There is a datacard I need," he explains, still looking at the ground. "I will find it later. I apologize."

You scowl, pulling on your loose-flowing pants and tying them off at your waist. "Might as well get it now."

"No, it's not-"

"They're your quarters, too. Just get whatever you need," and get out, you want to add, but you hold your tongue.

He hesitates, then turns without looking at you, walking back to his bunk. He doesn't say a word as you watch him retrieve his bag of personal supplies.

His silence drags on, and you want to get your tunic, but he's standing between you and your bed where it sits. So instead, you watch him dig and pretend not to be feeling as exposed as you are.

"Did you get those files on Cadinth I sent you?" you ask, trying to pass the time.

"I did," he replies, sorting through the bag and not looking up.

"Did you review them?"

He doesn't answer.

"Did you even glance at them?"

"I've said I have the files."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I will get to them."

"When?"

He drops the top of his bag, resting it on the bunk, and looks over at you, keeping his eyes leveled at your face. "I've told you I will read them. Why must you doubt everything I say?"

"Because you're doubting me first," you retort, childishly. "I told you everything I sent was relevant, so why put off reading it?"

"I have a process."

"And everything needs to go according to your plans."

"I could say the same of you."

You feel your cheeks heating, frustration simmering up to a boiling point. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He turns toward you, his task forgotten. "You seem to imply I have a problem with control. Perhaps you should look inward."

"Unbelievable. You're going to turn this on me?"

"I'm simply pointing out-"

"No, you're choosing not to listen. And as usual, you're manipulating things in your favor."

"In my favor?" He takes a few steps toward you as he talks. "Nothing about this situation has been in my favor. On that, you can be assured."

"Which part, exactly, has been so trying for you? Unilaterally planning the mission based on your personal preference? Or just dealing with me? Is that it?"

"Stop trying my patience. You are looking for an argument, and I won't be drawn into it."

Your eyes widen. Then you sneer. "I am so tired of you trying to put me in my place."

He barks an insulted laugh. "I've done no such thing."

"Really?" you ask. "Then tell me, what do you call what you've been doing? I have all the same training and experience as you, and yet I'm not worthy of taking part in your mission? I'm a liability?"

"No," he scowls, tossing a look at the wall like he's trying to gather himself.

"Then what? What am I?"

"A distraction," he spits, instantly, as if it's been on the edge of spilling out of him for quite some time.

Your jaw goes rigid, your head suddenly filled with static. That's the way he views you?

His eyes soften for a moment, and he opens his mouth as if he's about to take it back, but that would only be more insulting - pretending he didn't mean it. You don't want to give him the chance.

"You've always been arrogant, but this is a whole new level."

His scowl deepens. "That is not what I meant. I'm not... not capable of-"

"Of thinking from anyone's point of view but your own?" You huff derisively. "I don't see how any explanation you give would make this less insulting. I'm a Jedi Knight, same as you, Obi Wan, and I deserve the same-"

"Yes, you are!" he bursts out, nearly making you take a step back as he closes the distance between your bodies. "Have you considered behaving like one?"

Your brow pinches, but you're too distracted by him pressing in close to respond properly. "I... what- what are you..."

"You have shown no compassion; no consideration." You see the frustration in his eyes as he closes in. "And I am at your mercy, unfortunately for us both."

"I don't understand what that means," you murmur, still overcome with irritation, but put off-balance now, by the way he's talking.

He glares at you. "Don't- don't play the fool." His gaze slides down to where your clavicle rises and falls, the tops of your breasts spilling over your tight underclothes. He quickly flicks his eyes back up to your face. "It doesn't suit you."

That one look is enough to make you squeeze your thighs together, but it isn't enough to cool your temper. "You're the fool, if you think you can guilt me into following your orders by quoting principles at me."

It shouldn't thrill you so much to watch the corner of his mouth curl in displeasure, but it does.

"You're impossible."

"Oh? The perfect Jedi finally admits he lacks compassion, but only when it comes to me."

"It's not compassion I lack," he grits out.

"Then what is it, Obi Wan?" you ask, practically talking against his mouth.

His lashes flutter as he drops them once, then twice, to your parted lips. But the signals lighting up in your brain have to be wrong, because he can't be thinking of kissing you.

You try, desperately, to get things back on track. But when you speak, your voice comes out as a whisper. "What is it you lack?"

Silence. Silence. Silence. And then - his mouth on yours.

He kisses you deeply, and suddenly all of the fury you'd built up inside is translated into the pent up, raw hunger that it truly is. His hand is holding your jaw, pulling you close, keeping you steady for him to devour. You whimper softly, and he answers the question at last:

"Control."

You exhale, whining against his tongue as he walks you backward, gripping your waist and pressing you down into the lowest bunk. Your hands fly up into his hair, clutching wildly at soft, golden fistfuls, and letting your fingers run down his scalp as he lowers his mouth to your neck. Heat pulses between your legs as he drags his wet mouth over your sensitive skin.

"Fuck," you moan, "This is- we can't... We're not supposed to..."

He groans into your neck, and the sound makes everything in you pull up tight and hot. He closes his mouth over yours again, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You pull him in deeper, your teeth clashing with his as the kiss devolves into something messier, more primal, more urgent.

You roll your hips, needing to feel more of him, and his body eagerly responds. He's stiff in his pants, and feeling him drag against you is making you lose your mind. Your hand instinctively moves to touch him, but he grips your wrist with iron-clad certainty.

"Stop," he says, even as he continues kissing you. "I can't- can't take it."

He presses your hand into the bed until you go limp, and then releases. You bring it up to his face, rubbing your palm along his bearded jaw. "I'll take care of you," you plead into his mouth. "Just let me."

His breath is getting ragged, and when he pulls back, his lips are swollen, bright with color from being sucked and bitten. He shakes his head, brow pinched tight. "I wish that I could, darling, but stars above, just look at you."

Your panting breath cuts off, caught in your throat. You try, but your mind isn't functioning enough to say anything in response.

"If I do not stop now, I won't stop at all." He leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips softly against yours. Then he whispers, floating warm words against your ear, "You'll have me begging to finish inside of you."

Your eyes squeeze shut as you wonder if it's possible to come just from his voice. He nips just below your jaw, then sucks slowly down your neck as you do your best not to writhe out of your clothes.

"And we can't have that, can we?" he rumbles at the side of your throat.

It takes every last drop of your willpower to shake your head, but you do it.

"N-no."

No. You agree. Of course not.

But... fucking why, again?

--

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment or message me to be added to the taglist :)

Taglist: @slinkygail @wheres-mylove @millercontracting @cacti5539 @b0xerdancer-writes @spcecadet6

Masterlist

[writingforstraykids]

More than friends - Chp.4

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 2839

Summary: Chan has trouble forgetting about the day he stumbled in on Minho and you. With Minho gone for business and stress rising he decides to take matters into his own hands...accidentally calling you instead of Min ...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, smut, top!dom!chan, bottom!reader (not quite sub I think), p in v, masturbation (chan), fingering (f receiving)

A/N: As I promised, I'm tagging you @onmykneesforchanlix👀🤭~🌙

PART THREE | PART FIVE

It's been two weeks since Minho left for his trip. Two weeks since he made you whimper his name, bruising your body with kisses and loving bites. Two weeks since his fingers traveled to your most intimate places, made you slowly lose your mind and push you over the edge over and over again. Leaving for three weeks must've made him sentimental. It's also been two weeks since someone touched you, and damn, you're starting to miss it…you're not the only one. 

Two weeks ago, the night before his departure, after fucking you stupid all day while Chan was at work, Minho started searching Chan's near. You watched with interest how the very man who had ruined you in bed only hours before was now shyly gazing at his boyfriend, searching for his touch. Chan had picked up on it quite soon and promised when they thought you wouldn't hear them, that by the end of the night, Minho wouldn't know his own name anymore. That made your heartbeat drop to your lower regions in a matter of seconds. Judging by the sounds resonating through the walls, he made his promise come true, and you don't think you've ever heard Minho that wrecked before, bed slamming against your shared wall. Oh, how you longed to be in his place for one time only. 

Chan is gone a lot, working late and drowning in schedules and songs that need to be finished. You barely see him at the moment, but every morning, you wake up in his arms, his face buried in your back as he's finally asleep. He still searches your near, allowing himself to get more comfortable around you. But with Minho gone, he can't quite shake the thoughts of your first kiss and the time he walked in on you and Minho. Chan tries so hard not to think about it, feeling dirty whenever your bare body pops up in his mind and steals his breath once again. The more stressful his schedule gets, the more tense he is, and the more such thoughts slip into his mind. He really fucking misses Minho. 

Chan drags himself up the stairs to the front door of your home, blindly fumbling for his keys. His body is screaming for a release by now, but you're literally always there when he comes back home. He thought about calling Minho for help but he was pretty much always busy. So when he got to know he'd have a day off, he couldn't believe his luck. He'd just have to get you out of the house somehow. The first thing he notices is your favorite pair of sneakers missing and calling out for you, as he closes the door, he gets no answer. Chan drops his bag and races upstairs, realizing you're not here. 

He groans softly, taking his sweater off and throwing it onto the floor, his beanie and sneakers following. He quickly grabs the bottle of lube, safely stored away in the bedside table, and climbs into bed. Leaning against the headboard comfortably, he palms himself through his sweatpants, a low moan falling from his lips at that. "Fuck," he whispers to himself, quickly shuffling down his sweatpants and boxers to his knees in one go. He squeezes a generous amount of lube into the palm of his hand and gets straight to work. "Fuck, yes," he moans out in relief as soon as his hand wraps around his dick. Soft gasps fall from his lips as he strokes himself, and his eyes flutter close at the much-needed friction. His toes curl as he thinks of his beautiful boyfriend, doe brown eyes staring into his, face contorted in pleasure as soon as he takes care of him. "Min, fuck," he whispers to himself desperately, thinking of the way he feels, clenching around him, body writhing beneath him. "Oh, yes, Min baby," he chokes out, arching into his fist. His thoughts wander, and suddenly, he sees you on top of Minho before his inner eye. "Y/N, shit," he whimpers. No, stop right there. 

Chan fumbles for his phone and shakily opens his contacts. Luckily, he had both Minho and you saved with an A before your names, so he doesn't have to scroll far to contact his boyfriend. Chan's body shakes at a particularly good twist of his wrist, and his thumb presses down, calling Minho. After two rings, Chan can tell he picked up, and he's too far gone to give him a proper warning. "Minho baby," he moans out obscenely loud. "Miss you so much, fuck," he adds, speeding up the movement of his hand. "Can't stop thinking 'bout you and her that day."

Your eyes widen at how wrecked he sounds, thighs instinctively pressing together tightly. Is he touching himself? Is he thinking of Minho and you? "Channie," you breathe out. "It's…it's Y/N." 

"Y/N?!" he shrieks in panic, a soft, suppressed moan following. "Shit, sorry." 

"It's okay," you tell him, glancing around the bus nervously. Hopefully, no one can hear anything. "Are you…are you touching yourself right now?" you ask quietly, and Chan whines softly. 

His movements falter, and he urges himself to stop. The sweet sound of your voice isn't exactly helping. "I'm so sorry, I meant to call Min," he pants softly. 

You chew on your lower lip and check the monitor, noticing with relief you'll be getting off in a bit. "It's fine. Rough day?" 

"Rough two weeks," Chan admits, biting his lower lip hard as his whole body screams at him to continue his previous activity. 

"Go on then," you say, getting up as the bus approaches your station. 

"Wh-What?" he stammers. 

"I suspect you called Min to get that last push," you say, and Chan hums, barely audible. "Who says I can't do that?" you ask and hop out of the bus, crossing the street quickly. 

"Y/N," Chan whines gently. 

"You just said you're thinking about me jerking off. I think you figured out the depth of your feelings by now, haven't you?" you ask, walking down the street to the house way quicker than usual. 

"I-I guess so," he nods and bites his lower lip hard. 

"Go on," you repeat yourself and feel the heat pooling in your stomach as a groan leaves his mouth. 

Chan wraps his hand around his dick, head falling back at the needed friction. "Okay," he breathes out, starting to stroke himself again. 

"Feels good?" you ask, finally spotting your house. 

"So good," he moans, putting you on speaker. His free hand slips beneath his shirt, pinching his nipple with a delicious whine. 

"What were you thinking of?" you ask curiously, searching for your keys. 

"Thought about Min, looks so - ahh- pretty when he cums," he tells you and picks up the pace a little, hips bucking into his fist. "Thought about you, ho-how he fucked you that day," he continues. "Wished it was me and - oh fuck," he groans, frustrated, still only dancing along the edge but never falling over. 

"We can arrange that," you say, but this time he hears your voice double. Chan looks at you through half-lidded eyes, jaw slack as sounds of need leave his mouth. His hair is starting to stick to his forehead, and his shirt's only half covering his toned torso. 

"Y/N," he moans desperately, a blush creeping up his neck. 

You kick off your shoes and discard your jacket to the floor, crawling onto their bed. "I'm here," you say soothingly and climb into his lap, replacing his hand with yours. His hands grip the sheets, head falling back with a needy whimper as you start stroking him, flicking your thumb over his tip. You bite your lip as you watch him squirm beneath you and gently cup his face with your unoccupied hand. "Always so hardworking, Channie," you say softly and plant a tiny kiss on his nose. "You deserve a reward, don't you think?" you ask, kissing his forehead. 

Chan feverishly lunges forward into a kiss, lips crashing onto yours. "Take it off," he mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt. 

You let go of him and grind down against him instead, taking your shirt off. Chan's hands grip your hips firmly as you unclasp your bra, giving him a better view. 

He buries his face in your breasts with a soft sound, immediately licking and leaving tiny, soft bites on your warm flesh. He guides your hips, moaning softly as he feels your wet warmth, even through those lace panties you're wearing beneath your skirt. "Fuck, Y/N," he pants, rutting up against you in need. His hands travel down, grabbing your thighs, squeezing them. "Can I cum inside you?" he asks so innocently, pupils blown with lust, it makes your stomach clench. "I promise I'll make it up to you; I just really wanna cum inside you," he babbles, still guiding your hips against his. 

"You can," you encourage him and yelp in surprise when Chan throws you onto your back, hovering over you within seconds. He doesn't waste much time ripping your panties in an attempt to get them off you. 

His fingers dip between your folds, drenched in your juices in no time. "Fuck you're so wet already," he groans, lips attacking your breasts once more as he pushes the first finger inside. 

You moan softly as he eases it in, licking over your nipple. Chan sucks on your breasts with a delicious little whimper, and your hand shoots up to bury itself in his curls. "Fuck, Channie," you moan, eyes rolling back as he already adds another finger. 

"Oh baby girl, gonna fuck you so good," he promises and kisses down your neck hastily. "You sound so sweet already," he growls, and there's the third finger. 

"Chan, shit, do it already," you moan out impatiently. 

Something in him tells him to scold you for being such a brat, being impatient, and everything. Who is he kidding? He's the one desperate to be buried inside you. He pulls out his fingers, sucking them clean with a low groan before finally pushing into you. The whimpers leaving his lips at that make him blush but he can't help it. You feel so good and are exactly what he needed all week. "Oh, shit, yeah," he moans, burying his face in your neck as he gets used to being inside you. 

"Channie?" you pant softly at the pleasurable stretch, soothingly scratching his scalp. 

"Yeah?" he asks softly, pushing himself up on his arms to lock eyes with you. 

"I can take it. Whatever you need," you say, and his hips involuntarily buck forward, making you moan. 

"I-I'm not sure," he shakes his head, blushing heavily. 

"Just pretend we did that a few times already," you tell him. "We can act all romantic another time. It's been years; I can wait another day," you tell him, and his eyes darken, lips parting with a soft gasp. 

"Are you sure?" he asks, and you nod. "Words, doll," he shakes his head. 

"I'm sure," you nod firmly. 

"Color?" he asks, lovingly caressing your thigh. 

“Green,” you smile gently.

Chan starts moving, finally, massaging your walls so perfectly. Your head falls back with a loud moan, pulling at his hair as you do. Your eyes flutter close as he soon picks up the pace, pounding into you with soft whimpers and needy groans. He pushes your legs up against your chest, practically folding you in half, and buries his face in your neck, hungry kisses littering your skin. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby girl,” he slurs out, hips snapping against your skin. 

“Shit, Channie,” you choke out as his thumb meets your clit, stroking in circular motions. A needy, frustrated groan leaves his lips, and you can tell he’s holding back. “Chan.”

“Wh-What?” he asks, burying himself deeper into your neck, embarrassed by the sheer need his voice and movements are dripping with.

“Stop holding back,” you tell him, nails digging deep into his back. “Use me.”

“Y/N,” he whines softly; the mere thought is enough to make his stomach tighten painfully.

“Do it,” you moan out at another harsh snap of his hips. “Take what you need.” His next thrust has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, nails digging deep into his back and pulling at his hair. “Oh, fuck.”

Chan grabs your hands and pushes them down above your head as he pounds into you, desperately chasing his high. A string of incoherent curses mixed with your name falls from his lips, his cheeks blushing at the sheer need he’s taking you with. Fuck, you’d never let him forget that one, would you? “Y/N?” he whimpers, hips stuttering, already so worked up from before that it didn’t take long for him to get close at this pace.

“Fuck, fill me up already,” you moan out, seeing stars as he toys with your clit so perfectly. He tenses up above you only shortly after, painting your walls with his hot release. A broken sound leaves his lips, and he has trouble keeping up the rhythm of his finger against your clit. You don’t care because the intensity of the scene is enough to make you follow close, milking him dry as you clench around him. 

Chan collapses on top of you and buries his face in your neck, panting softly. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes after a minute of silence. 

You giggle breathlessly and run your hand through his hair. “There’s absolutely nothing to apologize for, my dear.”

“I don’t know what the fuck just happened,” he chimes in, chuckling. “It was long overdue, I guess.”

“Mhm,” you hum softly and fondle his hair. “I guess Minho was right; we’d fuck before we talk this out.”

“God, he’ll be so pleased with himself when we tell him,” he groans.

“Leave him some fun; we’ve caused him enough headaches,” you chuckle.

-

A week later, Chan and you have settled everything, deciding to be boyfriend and girlfriend from now on. Chan is driving to the airport to pick up Minho as a surprise, and you can’t stop smiling at the thought of finally seeing him again. “Y/N?” he asks gently.

“Yes, angel?” you ask, glancing at him curiously.

“How open do you want this to be?” he asks you, taking a turn left.

“You mean how many partners or-?”

“No,” he giggles. “The two of you are more than enough,” he grins, and you gently punch his arm. “I meant public wise?”

You nod slowly and search his eyes once he parked the car. “I have no issue with being your girlfriend in public. I know there’ll be people hating me for being loved by you and Min. I know some will call me all sorts of names for being together with both of you, but honestly, I don’t care.”

“You’re sure?” he checks once again, and you nod firmly. “I know Minho only told no one because of me because, honestly, he doesn’t give a fuck…so I think I’m ready now.”

“You mean let’s greet him like we would at home?” you ask, growing excited. 

“Yeah,” Chan smiles shyly and giggles as you lean over, pulling him into a firm kiss. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Damn right,” you giggle and hop out of the car. 

Chan’s hand slips into yours as you step into the airport, and you flinch back, surprised for a second, as bright lights meet you and people start screaming. “I’m here,” he promises, wrapping his arm around your waist as he guides you to Minho’s gate. “Sorry, should’ve warned you about that.”

“It’s alright; I should get used to it by now,” you snort at yourself, and Chan presses a soft kiss onto your temple.

“Neither I nor Min are,” he chuckles.

Only shortly after Minho comes down the hallway, pulling his suitcase with him and chatting with one of the managers by his side. His eyes light up as he spots the two of you, and he excuses himself, closing the distance between you. He pulls you into a tight hug, eyes widening in surprise as you kiss him. Minho doesn’t think much, having missed you too dearly, and kisses back tenderly. “Hi there, kitten,” he says softly. You smile at him and take a step back, making room for Chan. Minho searches his eyes curiously, seeming even more surprised when Chan cups his face and kisses him lovingly. “Well, that is a surprise,” he giggles happily at the pair of you.

You gently take Chan’s hand and smile at Minho. “There’s one more.”

You don’t have to explain, and Minho pulls you both into his arms, beaming. “I’m so glad you figured it out. Now let’s go home, I want all the details.”

“Told you,” Chan laughs.

“You’ll love this story,” you smirk and Chan blushes heavily. 

Minho watches him curiously before grinning. “Can’t wait.”

PART THREE | PART FIVE

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @silentreadersthings @cassidymb121 @liknws @mumusreblogs @seukijeuxq @strawberry31 @aalexyuuuhm @sundownimup-1 @hannahhbahng @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @aaasia111 @xxstrayland

[angel-of-the-moons]

I need to make a request where dom!reader pegs sub!Johnny Cage, I need him so bad its not even funny anymore

Pegging Johnny? In my house? It's more likely than you think!

Fresh Act

Johnny Cage x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, smut, sex toys, pegging, cumshot, Johnny whines when he's pegged you can't change my mind, slight spanking, recording, mentions of handcuffs, plugs, vibrators, fisting

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: pls don't look at me because of those tags asdfghjkl

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

Johnny Cage was many things. An actor, a fighter, a champion, and now a director.

But there was one thing you knew he was that you were sure nobody else did--even his ex-wife, Cris--was that Johnny Cage was a bottom.

The energy this man exuded, the charisma and confidence would make anybody think that he was the boss in the bedroom.

But nope.

It was you.

Oh, how Johnny loved it when you would cuff his hands to the bed and just edge him for hours, especially if you straddled his thighs while he had a plug in--a pretty little shiny one with a cute green gem in the base--and you had some sort of vibrating implement to his cock.

Double that if you used one of those vibrating stroking toys.

But something you hadn't even thought about, surprisingly... was pegging. Let alone filming the two of you while you did it. You'd heard too many horror stories of celebrity sex tapes being leaked online and you weren't sure you could handle the thought of you (and Johnny) in such a vulnerable position.

The tabloids would eat you both up.

But having Johnny sit at the edge of your bed, shirtless, wearing sweats that hung far too low on his hips, sporting a rather happy and aching erection; and in his hand was a strap and a harness he ordered online, his phone in the other.

"So... Like. Cris would never humor me with this sort of thing. She didn't like it, but I thought if I brought it up with you..." He said.

And, god, his face has the cutest, most ridiculous set of puppy dog eyes he's tried with you yet. He almost made you cave instantly.

Almost.

"Johnny." You sigh, rubbing your forehead as you looked down at him. "Honey, I mean the dildo is one thing, but the camera?"

"Okay, I can totally take this." He said, shaking said object in his hand.

He changes it up and wiggles his phone instead, now. "And this? The video will just be for me n' you, Kitten. I promise. I'm really just gonna keep it when I need you but you're not with me. Like on set."

You couldn't help but chuckle at him with a huff. Yeah, of course he masturbated while on set. Johnny was the kind of guy to do that, after all.

"And how do you know you can take it, hm?" You ask, pointing to the dildo.

He makes a sideways grin and tilts his head, looking off to the side. "Well..."

"Johnny..."

"Okay, okay!" He laughed, leaning back on his elbows, his sweats stretching and emphasizing the outline of his dick. Your eyes flicked down his body to eye it for a few seconds, and the way his grin widened irritated you.

He was getting uppity with you again, trying to push your buttons. And you knew it.

You knew he knew it.

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at him, pushing your breasts up just a bit.

"So, you know how I've been stressed about the new scenes on set? Yeah, so I've been experimenting with this and, well... I mean it's a bit bigger than the one I use--"

"So what I'm hearing is you've been keeping toys a secret from me." Your finger begins to tap your arm impatiently.

The way his eyes nervously dart around as he struggles to find words sends a delicious thrill through your body.

"Er, well, I..." He coughs. "Well don't think of it as hiding so much as... er. Waiting to surprise you?"

You scoff and slowly crawl over him, your leg between his thighs and intentionally pressing against his throbbing cock.

You apply a bit of pressure and tilt your head, your expression cold and calculating as he bites his lip and breathes hard through his nose.

"Sounds to me like you're making excuses." You state flatly.

The bobbing of his throat sealed his fate.

"Safeword?"

"Peaches."

"Want me to push it?" You ask, your hand sliding over his thigh, the tip of your thumb just barely tracing the side of his cock.

"Not tonight, but if I get overwhelmed I'll tell you." He says, licking his bottom lip as your thumb pressed against him with more pressure.

You slowly grin at him. "You said I can't push it, so I won't hurt you. But seriously, let me know if it's too much."

"I will, babe." He says as you kiss his lips softly.

"Kay. Now get naked and on all fours."

"Fffuuuck...." He groaned deeply.

"Johnny..." You say, your voice lashing with ice.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good boy." You purr. "Now do what I said or I'll just cockwarm you all night with no relief."

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

Being with Johnny had allowed an inner demon of yours to come out. One you had no idea you were keeping locked up inside of you.

And boy, did she crave topping and dominating someone. And Johnny was more than happy to be that someone.

Setting up the camera took a bit of time, you let Johnny get up when you were struggling with positioning and lighting. After all, you wanted the both of you to look good in your homemade sex tape.

Once you were both satisfied with the way it was set up, you had Johnny get back into position, his cock jutting out between his legs, twitching and proud, his thighs were tense with excitement and his balls were nice and heavy from the edging you gave him.

Maybe next time you'd put him in a band, or a nice tight cock ring while you did this to him.

Next time.

Right now you had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth, chewing on it as you watched him shake with anticipation.

You palm his ass cheek firmly, giving him a soft squeeze; the latex on your fingers squeaking softly. "Now, Johnny... Here's a few rules. You have to keep yourself propped up. You're not allowed to touch yourself. I'll let you know when you can cum. If you do it before I say..."

You reach and squeeze his balls softly, earning a shaky whimper from him.

"I'm putting you in a Cage, Johnny." You grin maliciously. "Understood?"

The way his head shook had your heart yearning to just pull him back and kiss him stupid.

But already he was forgetting the game.

You give him another squeeze, just barely above pain.

"Johnny..." You scold.

"Yes ma'am." He wheezed.

You release him and give his ass an affectionate pat. "Good boy."

You hum as you grab the bottles of lube--one of several-- from the heating pad you had them resting on. There was one thing you knew almost nobody liked, and that was cold lube.

And it was always good to have a ton of lube on hand. No matter what, every time you think you have enough, you use more. For everyone's comfort.

And despite Johnny's assurances that he's had a dildo up his ass before, you wanted to have all your bases covered. You didn't want to hurt him unless he wanted it. Spanking or slapping or biting was one thing, but fucking his ass with inadequate levels of lube or prep could result in a hospital trip in the worst case scenario...

You popped the cap and spread his cheeks, slowly dribbling the clear liquid straight down onto his asshole, using one finger to tease the puckered flesh with an idle hum still in your voice as he sucked in a tight breath as your gloves finger massaged his tight, velvety walls.

You both agreed that for this situation, it was smart to wear some latex gloves so your nails wouldn't scratch his delicate insides. After all, even you used gloves when you fingered yourself, sometimes; having claws scratching up your lady bits was uncomfortable and could lead to infections.

"You good, Johnny?" You ask him gently.

"Y-yeah." He whimpered and quickly corrected himself. "Yes, ma'am. Ugh. You..."

He dropped his head and his upper body heaved with heavy breaths as he composed himself.

"You can use more than one."

Your brow quirked and you smiled impishly. "You want me to?"

"Please."

"Okay, baby." You murmur, pulling your finger out of his ass and holding your hand up, dripping a copious amount of lube on your first three fingers. You didn't want him too tight when you fucked him with the strap, and besides... teasing him was always part of your game.

Sometimes you wanted him so strung out he would cum from a puff of air. You wouldn't go so far tonight, you wanted him to cum on that hefty silicone dick of yours.

The groan that came from his throat as you eased your fingers inside of him made your clit twitch against the straining leather of the harness, your wet cunt already causing some nice slippery friction that stimulated you, too.

Johnny had thought of everything for this, he had the harness designed custom just for you and him, he had it made so if you wanted, you could have a vibrator stuck into a pouch in the front to stimulate your clit alongside the soft bump that rubbed against you with every movement you made, making your nipples pebble and goosebumps raise along your skin.

You twisted and pressed your fingers in every angle you could manage until Johnny collapsed down onto his elbows with a small moan.

You halt your fingers entirely and pull them out until just the tips of them remained inside, frowning down at your mega-star boyfriend.

"Johnny..."

He swallowed audibly and hauled himself back up onto shaky palms, his shoulders tense from the strain and effort.

And he thought planking was hard...

"That's my boy." You chuckle, thrusting your fingers back inside, curling them in a "come hither" manner, stroking his walls gently and oh so sweetly.

You bite your lip and move your hips closer, until your strap on was pressed against the underside of his cock and balls, giving external stimulation as you fucked his ass with your hand.

You were tempted to see if he could take the whole thing, but like your earlier thoughts you saved that idea for later.

You twist your hand downward as you look at the phone you and Johnny had set up, facing you with the front-facing camera, the ring light illuminating you two wonderfully. The energy of your bedroom and the candles lit provided a gorgeous backdrop for this; and the way you could actually see how Johnny looked on all fours, his eyes squeezed shut and biting his lip in concentration as sweat dripped down his forehead made your hips thrust against his in an automatic reaction.

He made a short gasp as your silicone cock grinded against his, pressing against his full balls while your fingers angled down, dangerously close to his prostate but not close enough to give hime spine-tingling relief.

You made a mental note to buy a custom stroker that you could shove alongside his cock, next time. You'd love to see him on his back as you grounded and stroked your cock alongside his, watching him come in thick ropes up his well-toned abs... maybe you'd have him lick your toy clean afterwards.

God, he was your inner demon's muse. He was so good at giving you ideas with just those pathetic little moans and whimpers of his.

"Look at you," You coo down at him. "Taking my hand so good."

You knew he could probably cum just like this, lazily stroking his hips against you, his cock sliding against yours as your fingers pumped in and out of him, stretching his hole out nice and wide for you.

But no, if he was gonna cum, it was gonna be while you fucked him hard with that goddamn strap-on he wanted so badly.

You pulled away all at once without warning, his ass twitching and empty at the loss of you. He looked over his shoulder at you, not voicing his question--because he knew he'd be punished if he got impatient--and his brows were creased pathetically in a silent plea for you to continue.

You acted like you didn't notice, humming a little tune as you poured what was left of the bottle of lube you were using on the dildo. You grabbed another warmed up bottle and applied more, stroking it with your fingers, trailing over the life-like silicone; the veins prominent and the foreskin creased as you pulled back like a real cock.

Fuck, you almost wished you had one, just to know how he'd feel all snug around you.

You rolled your hips into your touch, giving yourself some friction and making small moans--some for show, some genuine--as your clit bumped and rolled against the raised indent on the inside of the harness, more slick gushing from your wanting cunt.

You barely glimpsed at him out of the corner of your eyes, looking at him as he watched you, his eyes practically glistening with tears as he watched you slowly get yourself off, leaving him bereft and craving.

You were merciful and turned back to him, pouring more lube into his ass that was still clenching around air, waiting for you.

You pressed the tip against him, relishing in how his whole body seemed to go still as death as he waited.

But nothing happened.

You tapped the head of the toy against his waiting hole, "Remember. Use the safeword, and if you cum before I say, you're in trouble."

"Yes ma'am." He sighed, his voice watery and knees weak. "Please."

"Alright." You say, your tongue clicking as you press harder, the tip popping right into his asshole with wondrous ease, making you moan involuntarily at the mere sight as his hands bunched the expensive sheets, his cock leaking fresh, heavy drops of his precum.

"Fuck." He groaned as you eased in, inch by torturous inch.

"Doing s' good for me, baby." You praise as the toy is swallowed by his hungry body. "Takin' my cock so good. Next time I'm gonna have you ride it, m'kay?"

"Yes--fuck--please." He whined loudly, his spine arching and head tipping back as you finally bottomed out.

You rested there, letting the weight of the strap rest in his guts, getting snug and comfortable as his insides contorted around its shape, committing it to memory.

Cris was fucking stupid for not doing this to him. He was fucking gorgeous all split open and trembling for you, his muscles quivering as your spread your hand, palm down and fingers splayed while you slid it up his back, feeling just how sweaty he got.

"Gonna start moving." You tell him as you pull back; not quite as slow as when you were pushing in, but you were being gentle for him.

Just this once.

After that? Fuck, you were relentless.

You would roll your hips like you did when you rode his cock, gyrating and slapping against his ass as the stimulation from the harness pushed you closer and closer to your own orgasm while you fucked him.

You drove in and in, and in and in more and more, the tip of the dildo stabbing him in a way that he never managed on his own. God, Johnny wanted to badly to grip and tug his cock, to stroke himself so he could just cum already, but he remembered your rules and your promise to really make him suffer if he did what you expressly told him he couldn't.

All he could do was mumble and babble things almost incoherently, rolling his hips back against yours, his ass slapping audibly against your sweaty skin, the sound of your false cock lewd and wet as you buried yourself again and again, pile-driving the air out of his lungs with every punch of your hips.

"Fuck." You whined softly, feeling the flames of your own release began to creep up your spine, your blood turning to molten lava as the friction from the harness against the swollen bud of your clit makes your nerves light up and your brain almost forget what you were doing as you mindlessly chase your own release; your puffy lips and slick cunt gushing so much it feels like you could drown him if his face were in-between your legs, the clear, sticky juices dripping down your thighs as your hips snap up against his while you cum, your hands gripped tight on his hips to ground yourself.

As the haze of your orgasm ebbed and your hot slick dribbled down the skin of your inner thighs, you remember that you were buried all the way inside of Johnny's ass.

You smile, feeling a little guilty that you got so consumed in the moment that you'd neglected and forgot all about your whimpering and squirming boyfriend beneath you.

He hasn't said the safeword yet, and he has been good. Almost unusually, for him, to behave so well in bed. Sometimes he lived for your little punishments.

So, you decided to extend the olive branch of mercy yet again as you pull out, and angle your hips so you can press the tip against his prostate.

"Go on ahead 'n cum for me, baby." You coo at him, your voice becoming only slightly rough as you plowed full steam into his ass, relishing in the noises he made as he rocked shamelessly against you, the sweetest most pathetic noises coming from his cute lips alongside your name.

When Johnny Cage cums, he does so with his entire body, trembling, gripping, thrusting, arching... He does it all, puts his whole body into the effort of letting you know that he's at his limit and you've brought him there.

Hot, thick ropes of white shoot from the weeping and sensitive tip of his cock as you help him ride it out, smiling in amusement as he essentially rides you from below as he collapses his upper body down against the pillows, drooling just a little bit as his brain slowly kicks back on.

You could swear you could hear the dial-up internet sounds coming from his mind as you pull the dildo out of him.

"That good, huh?" You tease playfully.

"So, so good." He groans, rolling onto his back, just off to the side of the mess he made in the satiny sheets.

You hum in acknowledgement as you undo the clasps and buckles of the harness, turning the heating pad with the lube off as you set the harness and toy atop it.

You lean down and grab Johnny by his jaw, bringing his lips to yours in a heavy, loving and desperate kiss as his hands smooth up your back and down again, kneading and pulling the cheeks of your ass apart.

"Mmh. Again?" You murmur against his lips.

"As much as I'd love to do that again, I need some time to warm up, Kitten." He chuckles at you.

"But I can do that while you sit on my face, right?"

[bookish-bogwitch]

Hello! Thank you for the tags, @blackberrysummerblog @mooncello @monbons @artsyunderstudy @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @thehoneyedhufflepuff @nausikaaaand and @alexalexinii. You are wonderful!

Today I'm sharing an anxious plea for reassurance + a snippet of chapter 9 of Basil Pitch's Diary, posting June 7. Below the cut for spoilers and anxiety.

<ANXIETY> I'm working on chapter 10 now and friends, it's slow going. I still love this fic with all my heart, but chapters 1-9 I had mapped out more or less scene by scene months before I started posting, and before writing most of them. Writing them was like novelizing a movie I'd watched in my head a countless times.

For the rest of the fic, though--Ch 10-13--I had only broad strokes figured out. I knew the very ending, and a handful of key emotional beats along the way, but the connective tissue was basically "Collect Underpants ... ? ... Profit."

I've now plotted the rest out in reasonable detail, with help from the extremely kind and insightful @facewithoutheart and @thewholelemon. But I am a plotter to the core and it feels much scarier to be writing a story I just made / am still making up than one that's been living in my head for years.

Also, you guys: Chapter 9 is really fucking good. I'm really proud of it and excited to share it. And also scared that the rest of the fic won't live up to the promise of all I've set up. This fic is my baby and I just really want to nail it.

Intellectually I know I'm just swinging on the creative-confidence pendulum, and that future me will be able to write as well as past me. These doubts are just intrusive thoughts, skittering around my head like the mice that live in my walls. Harmless, but such a nuisance. </ANXIETY>

Anyway! Here are some sentences of Chapter 9, which, did I mention, is really good. Baz is finally going dancing with DeNiall.

“So, cousin. What’s your strategy?” I just raised an eyebrow and gestured at myself. My shirt was a perfectly cut navy so sheer that it read as cobalt over my pale skin. Climbing my chest were embroidered red and pink roses, between which you could clearly see my nipples. I’d changed out of Oxford cloth at Fiona’s. (I didn’t tell her I’d stopped in Blackfriars to drop off my grandmother’s furs and my grandfather’s Dickens.) Through my sleeve you could also see my mother’s wand holster, which my father now insists I wear whenever I leave the house. He’s also looking for a second dog. Something more territorial than Rusty, whose lick is worse than his bite. After the numpties he spent a week teaching me defensive spells. His skill surprised me, though it shouldn’t have. Once, when I was small, someone tried to mug him as we were leaving a theatre. My father didn’t panic or capitulate, just calmly kneecapped the man with a vicious Why me, why now. 

Tagging @angelsfalling16 @brilla-brilla-estrellita @palimpsessed @cutestkilla 

@comesitintheclover @confused-bi-queer @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @drowninginships @dragoneggos

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@twokisses @shrekgogurt

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Trine [7]

Anselm Vogelweide X Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Part One • Trine Masterlist • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: Anselm and you have meetings all day, and Blue isn't amused.

A/N: This hasn't been proofread, I don't know what I'm doing or what happened this just sort of appeared in my brain.

Warnings: crying, Blue being a bit bratty and then emotional and needy, Blue having emotions?? Whaaat?, oral (m! receiving), reader is married to Anselm, Anselm refers to reader as ‘my love’, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2813

Blue glares daggers (and bullets and some kind of illegal toxin that makes its victim's skin fall off) at the man sitting opposite you. He couldn’t be bothered to learn his name, refused to, he was fed up of all of the useless and boring people that had been demanding your time today.

His expression quickly changed when you noticed him standing in your office doorway, he smiled sweetly at you, batting his eyes and walking over when you grinned. 

“Hello, sweet thing.” You say softly, moving a little and pushing your chair out from your desk a fraction. 

Blue leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek then nuzzling into your neck and breathing deeply.

“You okay?” You whisper. 

“Hmm, I miss you.” He mutters, putting on the sweetest voice you have ever heard while sneaking a vicious scowl at the gentleman you were having a meeting with. Practically snarling. 

You knew exactly what Blue was doing. 

But you liked to indulge him. 

“Aww,” you say, lightly stroking his hair. He presses himself closer to your hand, like a pampered housecat. “I won’t be much longer, I promise.” 

He pouts lightly, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Come sit with me while I finish this meeting?” 

He grins wickedly the second you finish speaking and climbs eagerly into your lap when you tap your thighs. Warmth rolls off his body as he settles, kissing your neck lightly and wrapping his arms around you before he looks back across your desk. 

He maintains eye contact with your meeting as he puts his heels up on the edge of your polished wooden desk, something he has asked your permission about before. He wiggles his house slippers, trying to be as much of an annoyance to the man as possible. 

To his credit, the man glances quickly back to you, and stays quiet. 

You tut lightly and with humour, gently tapping Blue’s shin. “Behave.” 

Blue chuckles. “I’m sorry.” He whispers in your ear, very unapologetically with unbridled glee in his voice. 

You nod, “Continue Theo.”

Blue rolls his eyes, ugh, as the man across starts to talk. Some nonsense about profits and manufacturing and blah, blah, blah. 

You answer every now and then, occasionally questioning and nodding. Blue likes it when you talk, the way your voice rumbles through your chest into his skin. The sounds of your sweet and silky voice forming the syllables. 

You don’t get up when Theo finishes and thanks you for your time, due to Blue, but you do shake his hand. 

Blue nearly throws a punch when Theo has the gall to ghost his lips over your knuckles. The only thing that stops him is your hand on his waist. 

You wait until he’s left and your office door is closed before you regard Blue with a smirk. 

He grabs your hand hastily, and licks over the spot Theo’s lips touched before he sucks on your skin.

You chuckle at his little display, at the frown that has formed on his forehead. “Did Anselm kick you out of his office?” 

Blue pouts, and eventually pulls his mouth back far enough to answer you. “No.” 

“No?” 

“He was being dull.”

You laugh. “Dull?” You tease.

“He said I was a distraction. And he was ignoring me.” 

“Aw, poor baby.” 

Blue nods, squirming a little in your lap. “I am.”

You stroke his hair with your free hand. 

“He wouldn’t even let me sit near him.” He sulks, “I had to sit on a regular chair with the other people. Like I was just some business associate.” He grumbles, his frown growing. 

You bite your lips together to stop your smile, you’d never seen Blue in quite such a bad mood. 

The agreement had been that Anselm would keep Blue with him while you attended to your meetings today. 

Blue keeps your hand close, squeezing it rhythmically. You don’t think he consciously realises what he’s doing.

“He’s really upset you, hasn’t he?” You ask softly and Blue nods. 

“Yes.” His voice is grumpy and rough, a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

“I’ll make sure he makes it up to you later, hmm?” You stroke your fingers down to his chin, taking hold of it and lightly turning him to fully face you. 

He shrugs, the pout still on his lips. 

Oh, Anselm had really upset him. 

“What did he do?” 

Blue’s eyes flick to you before looking back at your hand. “Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” 

“Hmm.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” You tease, trying to lighten his mood. But he just sighs and just snuggles closer to you, curling up and pressing his head into your chest. 

“Hey,” you say gently, wrapping your arms around him and kissing the top of his head. “You’re ours, you know that right? We love you very much.” 

“You love me.” He grumbles, and you laugh.

“We love you.”

“Hmm.” 

You squeeze him tighter, just holding him for a moment while he relaxes into your embrace. 

“I could get him in here right now,” you say, “make him get on his knees and stuff his mouth with you until you forgive him?” 

Blue snorts but shakes his head. 

Oh, now that’s really, really worrying you. You pause, thinking. “We could go home? I could put you in that chair I’ve told you about, the one dildo and fleshlight?” 

He squirms a little at that, his breathing hitching ever so slightly as he buries his face further into your neck. But it’s still not the reaction you’d come to expect from him.

A little smile spreads across your face, “I have another meeting.” You say softly, and you feel the scowl on his face. “Come on, sit up.” 

He groans a little, but does as you ask, expecting to have to get off and leave. Instead you guide him into sitting with his feet flat on the floor and his back against your chest. 

“Keep your hands on the armrests, understand?” 

He swallows and nods, curiosity mixing with arousal as you unzip his trousers. He’s unsurprisingly hard.

Blue whines the second your fingers touch his length, pressing back closer to you and moaning lightly. 

“You know what to say if you want me to stop, yes?” 

He nods, swallowing. “Yes.” 

“Good.” You kiss his temple and then lean to the side and hit the intercom to your receptionist with your free hand. “Send them in.” 

Blue squirms, his breathing catching in his throat as he fights to keep his hips still. 

“You like being on show for me?” You whisper in his ear, kissing just below. 

He nods, pressing his back as close as he can to your chest. Something settles uncomfortably in his chest, normally this would be driving him crazy. He’d want an audience, demand one. But now…

“Wait…” He grabs your free hand, suddenly unsettled. “I don’t want…” 

“Blue?” 

“Yellow.” He repeats and you stop instantly, quickly hitting the intercom, “Cancel that, I’m not ready for the next meeting.” 

Your receptionist's voice replies with a quick confirmation. 

“Blue,” you kiss his cheek while you rub his arm, “my sweet.”

He nuzzles into you, letting out a little heartbreaking sigh. 

“I need you to speak with me. Is that alright?”

He nods, fiddling with your fingers. You know it’s difficult for him, communicating. There are walls inside him where most only have open fields. 

“What did Anselm do?” You ask gently. 

“Nothing.” 

You let it rest for a moment. 

“It’s me,” Blue says shyly, his voice almost timid. “He didn’t do anything.”

“What happened?” You kiss his temple and he lets out a little soft whimper. 

“I was being…”

“Dramatic?” You tease playfully. 

“Difficult.” He rephrases, but there’s humour in his voice. “As normal.” He threads his fingers with yours and holds his hand close to his chest. 

“Anselm likes it when you’re difficult.” 

“I know. And he was only doing what we normally do, I’m… bratty. And he ignores me and then pretends to get annoyed and then…”

“He punishes you.” 

He squirms a little, his skin flushing with heat as he nods. “Yeah…”

“And you like that normally.” He nods.

“What was different this time?” 

“I… I don’t know.” He swallows, his voice thick. “It felt… I didn’t like him ignoring me.” He presses his face to your chest. “I didn’t like it… it felt… upsetting.” 

You listen, giving him room to speak. 

“And then…” He swallows again, “I didn’t tell him I didn’t like it, I know I should have… but I didn’t want to, in front of the other people.” 

You nod. “I understand.” You soothe. “You know if you had he would have doted on you? Either fucked you in front of them or sent them all out to do it in private.” 

Blue nods against you. “I know, I know he would. Part of me… the…” he taps his head, “knows he would have. But,” he presses both hands, and yours in the process, to his chest. “Here was…” His voice breaks a little.

“It’s alright,” you kiss his head again, squeezing him into a hug. 

“I should have told him.” 

“Sometimes it’s difficult to do things, I understand.” 

He nods, swallowing and blinking hard. 

“It’s good you came to me though. Better to come to one of us or both rather than just be alone.”

“Hmm,” he lets go of your hand to rub at his eyes. 

You let him for a moment and then tilt his head up. There’s wetness on his cheeks. 

You kiss his nose, his forehead and cheeks until he’s smiling. 

“I’m going to get our husband,” you kiss his temple. 

Blue gives you a dopey love sick smile at your turn of phrase, “You don’t have to, I don’t want to bother either of you-”

You shake your head, kissing his nose again. “You are never a bother.” You smile. “Unless it’s in a fun, oh no, you’re so naughty way.” 

He smiles, pressing closer to your neck as you. 

You call Anselm, who answers immediately, and speak quickly in rapid fire German to explain the situation. Blue tries to listen and pick out words as best he can, but the conversation is lost on him. 

When you put your phone down you gently urge Blue to get up and fully redress himself before guiding him out of your office and further down the corridor. 

You take him to a side room, using your thumbprint to unlock the door and lead him inside. 

It’s fair size, decorated in lots of dark wood and wine red. It reminds Blue a little of a fancy presidential suite, but with more touches that are tailored to your and Anselm’s tastes.

“I didn’t know you had somewhere like this here,” he says quietly, touching the bookshelf.

“It hasn’t been used in a while, there was a time when business was a little more unstable.”

His eyebrows pinch together and there’s a rawness in his gaze. He nods, looking a little frail and lost. 

“Here,” you take his hand and sit him down on the large plush sofa, wrapping your right hand over his shoulders as you rest next to him. 

He presses closer instantly, snuggling into your embrace. He breathes deeply, his lips against your neck, the action quickly becoming light kisses to your skin. 

“Blue,” you say softly, trying to deny the heat that pools in your stomach. “You don’t have to.” 

He whines gently for you, the sound almost purring. “Need you, always need you.” He mutters, littering your jaw with kisses until his lips find yours. 

His mouth is hot and needy, desperate as he strokes your tongue with his own. His hands pull at your hips, urging you closer. 

He breaks the kiss for a moment to undo and pull off his shirt, leaving it uncharacteristically in a hasty mess on the floor. 

You run your hands through his hair when he kisses you again, dragging your nails across his scalp and grinning when he shivers and sighs. 

Blue doesn’t hear when the door opens, too lost in the feel of you, but you do. You open your eyes as Anselm walks in quickly. There’s a pained expression on his face. 

You kiss Blue’s cheek, moving back and holding his jaw softly but firmly when he tries to follow you. 

“My kleine blau,” Anselm’s voice rumbles as he reaches the sofa and sits down behind him. 

Blue turns, looking down and hesitant. Embarrassed, you realise. 

“I didn’t mean to get you out of your meeting-” Blue begins, but is cut off by Anselm’s hand on his cheek, pulling him closer, and his tongue down his throat. 

Blue whines softly into the embrace, reaching back and tangling his fingers in Anselm’s wild hair. 

You lean up and run your tongue along his collarbone, sucking at his pulse point. Blue’s muffled cry raises in pitch as he grabs hold of your shoulders, pulling you closer. 

“I did not realise you were distressed, my love,” Anselm mutters between kisses, his voice low with lust but also pinched with worry. “You are more important than any meeting.” He doesn’t give Blue a chance to answer, swallowing his words every time he tries. “Ever. The most important.” 

Anselm moves, lightly touching the back of your neck and pressing warm kisses to your lips. “Thank you for telling me.” 

You smile and stroke your husband's cheek. He rests against your palm instantly, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry for-” Blue tries to start again.

“Nothing. You are sorry for nothing.” Anselm growls while you kiss Blue to silence him. 

“Our Blue,” you mutter into his mouth. 

“Our Blue.” Anselm echos as he kisses down Blue’s chest. 

Blue moans, squirming ever so slightly as Anselm undoes his belt and slides his trousers from his hips. 

“You don’t have to…” He groans loudly as you suck a love bite into the spot just below his ear. 

“We want to,” you whisper as Anselm removes his boxers and flicks his tongue against Blue’s tip. 

He gasps, muscles twitching as he bucks up. 

“Poor thing,” Anselm hums, “being so needy for so long.” 

Blue bites his lip and nods, his eyes rolling back as Anselm sucks the head of his cock into his warm mouth. He lets out a string of whimpers and expletives, mumbled pleads as he gasps for air. 

He presses his head back against the sofa, sinking into the sensations and grabs for both you and Anselm, taking your hand in his left and Anselm’s in his right. 

Anselm sinks lower, taking him further into the tight heat of his mouth.

“Please, please, please,” he whines, not really knowing what he’s saying fully. He squeezes both of your hands desperately, needing you both so badly that it’s painful. 

He hiccups, gasps, “I…” but doesn’t know what he wants to ask for. 

“Here.” Anselm pulls away and presses at the back of Blue’s thighs, practically bending him in half on himself. He licks up the length of him before moving down and lapping at his balls. 

Blue cries out, shivering and shaking in both of your arms. 

Anselm licks lower, “my love?” He nods to you and you know what he plans instantly. 

You move down and flick your tongue over Blue’s slit as your husband dips his head and spreads Blue wider. 

Blue mewls, practically sobbing as you sink deeper, swallowing around his cock as Anselm licks his hole at the same instant. 

“Oh,” he bites his lip, his hips bucking and stomach clenching as you bob your head and Anselm laps. “Oh, god.”

He’s going to faint, he’s going to pass out from the feeling. Both of your mouths so hot and wet and perfect, focused completely on him while he writhes at your mercy. 

The tight ball of pleasure twists and tightens desperately in his stomach, tingles along his veins. His emotions twirl, combine and threaten to pull him under so suddenly. 

The head of his cock bumps against the back of your throat as you swallow, just as Anselm presses the tip of his tongue inside. 

“I’m, I’m,” Blue bites his lip, trying to stop himself but finding himself wanting. “I’m gonna cum.”

Both of you moan as he speaks, the hum vibrating so desirously along his nerves, making him delirious from pleasure. 

He cries out, his back arching as he comes. 

You swallow eagerly as he spurts down your throat, coming and coming so hard that his voice breaks from his scream. 

It’s only when his muscles finally relax that you both break your mouths away from him, kissing up his stomach and nuzzle against his skin, wrapping your arms around Blue and hugging him tightly. 

He breathes deeply, sweat cooling on his flushed skin, as he clings onto you both, needing the safety of your embrace. 

Thank you for reading!

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[ineffabildaddy]

Please Touch Me - a Crowley POV poem

just a quick one that was languishing in my brain and didn't want to be there anymore. hope you enjoy<3 be warned, explicit content ahead!

read my aziraphale pov poem on tumblr here or on ao3 here

-

Please touch me.

Touch me to show me we are, above all and despite everything, comrades.

Tap my shoulder with fingers as light as a feather when you greet me. Capture my hand in a fleeting yet firm shake. Clap me on the back in laidback acclamation.

Please touch me, and when you do, be not afraid.

Let the gentle grip that graces my bicep when we erupt into laughter linger. Resist from shrinking away when the fine hairs on the back of your hand brush mine. Refrain from apologising if your knee bumps against my shin at the dinner table.

Please touch me to communicate with the world around us.

Lay a steady hand on my heaving chest in the throng of a tipsy crowd, just for a second. Remain still and upright before your guest when I perch on the edge of your chair and nestle the curve of my waist into your shoulder.

Please touch me, and let your touch soothe me.

Blink as you bring your face to meet mine so your eyelashes stroke my skin. Gift me the ghost of a kiss on my forehead before bedtime. Hook your forefinger over my pinky the moment my mask of serenity begins to peel.

Use your touch to discover me.

Brush your thumb along my jawbone. Push your palm into the concave of my lower back. Trace your finger along the veins on my shivering arms.

Collide into me with the velocity of a shooting star, graze my bottom lip with your front teeth, and urge your questing tongue into my welcoming mouth.

Use your touch to disarm me.

When you kiss me, hold me not by the hand, but by the wrist. Instead of offering me your lap, present me with your right thigh. Do not caress the back of my neck; curl your fingers around my throat.

Use your touch to enfeeble me.

Press the tip of your cock to the curve of my stomach. Traverse the inside of my leg with the pad of one finger, and halt just as I begin to tremble. Make my cunt need you so much it weeps unrelentingly for you, and let it.

Grant me the right to prove I can take you.

Order me to beg on my knees and shove your dick in my mouth before I can even try. Allow the peak of your length to commune with the back of my throat in reverence and tranquility. Coax my cum-covered tongue past my half-open lips and make me show you.

Demonstrate to me that we are still comrades, even when I am unravelling for you faster than a spool of thread.

Fuck me so silently that we begin to converse without words. Fuck me so leisurely that I know you're showing me mercy - not because I can't take it faster, but because this indulgent slowness allows me to truly get lost in you. Fuck me so deep that you are no longer touching me, you are me.

I'm a dog who twitches with anticipation as his master walks by, hope so strong that he cannot contain it. Taking what I can get, never exhausted of waiting.

So treat me how you wish. I'll never deny you; I might even implore you, but I'll be good. I promise.

Just please touch me.

-

hope you liked it! any feedback you have and any inclination to reblog is very much appreciated<3

tagging the usual suspects (love u all) @celestialcrowley @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @sad-chaos-goblin @ineffable-rohese @iammyownproblematicfave @bowtiepastabitch @crowleyslvt @dancingcrowley @quoththemaiden @sentientsky

it is also on ao3 here:

[hanniefangz]

his universe - ★｡･:*:･ﾟ

pairing: dad!jisung x F!reader

tags: fluff, angst [kinda]

summary: jisung is worried about not being a good father to his daughter, y/n convinces him otherwise.

word count: 2K

it wasn't unusual for you to hear the soft patter of footsteps along the hallway carpet as your boyfriend, jisung, paces up and down it. it was a sign he was anxious, and whilst most days you were able to tell what it was about just from a look in his eyes, today he wouldn't give you so much as a glimpse into his worries. if you weren't preoccupied right now, you would've have immediately gone out to soothe him, but your arms were currently rocking your daughter back and forth as the sleepy baby gargles she was making slowly quietened into a tiny snore. once she was settled, you places her gently in her crib, flicking off the nightlight and slowly meeting jisung in the hallway as you close the nursery door. his pacing stops and his gaze drops to the floor and he's stood right in front of you, so you place a soft hand on his shoulder.

“ji? are you ready to talk yet? aera is finally asleep” you speak to him softly, hoping that he'll be able to open up to you now. he'd been in an anxious state all day, barely any words spoken between the both of you, in the short time you'd seen each other since he'd gotten home from work and you'd been busy with aera. he looks up slowly, tears forming at the corner of his eyes and he nods, letting out a sniffle. your heart almost breaks in two seeing him like this.

“come on love, let's go talk.” you softly take his hand, and walk into your own bedroom. he sits on the bed, and you sit beside him, hand still in yours the entire time.

“what's going on ji?” he looks back up at you, tears falling fully now and attempts to start, finding it difficult each time, but he gets there eventually, your eyes never leaving him for a second.

“i feel like im not a good enough dad for aera.” he sighs between sobs. you frown and his tears spill harder.

“oh ji, you're such a good dad for her, i promise. the best even, why do you think you're not?”

“i’m never here, i haven't spent any time with her because i'm always working, when we start touring or have another comeback im going to be here even less and i feel like im just going to be abandoning you both. i leave you to do absolutely everything because i'm terrified of doing it wrong. she adores you, of course she does, you're the only one she sees everyday. im just there sometimes. i don't have time to spend with either of you as much as i want to and i hate it because i don't want to chose between you and my work, because i love it all too much. i don't know what to do y/n. i feel like im being torn in two.” his tears have since stopped but you can still feel his shaky breaths as he speaks quickly. it's hard for you to take it all in, but you get the overall message and your heart breaks for him even more, tears springing to your own eyes.

“jisung. i promise you that you are the most amazing dad that aera, actually scratch that, anyone, could ever ask for. it's okay that you're not here all the time, you're providing for us both and i don't expect you to give up your big dream for the two of us. we're here to support you, always. just think about how many presents you've bought for her that she can't even thank you for yet. you wrote her a song and begged for it to be put on the next album because she's your whole world, how many kids can say their dad did that? you come home to us both every single night, you give her goodnight cuddles and sing her lullaby's. yeah sure, there's a lot that you don't know how to do, but we're only young ji. im still learning as well. we've got time. we're in this together. you're an amazing dad. and you're doing so so well. im so proud of you baby.” tears are now streaming down both of your faces as he holds you close to his chest, stroking your hair softly.

“you really mean that?”

“every single word of it ji. you're doing so good.”

“thank you baby, you are too. im proud of you too. you're the best mom to aera.”

“thank you.” you sigh softly against his chest, basking in the warmth of your bodies being pressed together, you crave these moments more than anything. you sit there for a few moments, calming both of your breathing, and you break the silence after a while.

“she really loves you, you know.” jisung pulls away from the hug and looks at you, his head slightly tilted quizzically.

“hmm?”

“the way she looks at you, she looks like she's looking at the whole universe. you are her whole universe.” you smile at him softly and he looks down shyly.

“i mean it ji, she does. she loves you so much. how could she not. you're you.”

your hand moves up to softly stroke his cheek, pinching it softly making him giggle. one of your favourite noises in the whole world, making warmth flood through your veins and a soft blush appearing on your face.

“you're so cute. i love you.” you whisper, and you give him a soft kiss on the lips, rubbing his cheek with your hand again.

“i love you too.” he replies with a tiny smile.

the two of you decide to go downstairs and make some dinner, even if it was a bit late, you'd both been too occupied to think about eating earlier and the hunger was catching up to you. you offer to cook, giving him the option to watch something on the tv, but he insists on at least sitting in the kitchen with you, but decides to help you anyway by cutting up the veggies for your meal.

halfway into cooking, the baby monitor that was in the kitchen starts to make a few noises; aera was due for a change and she was getting fussy upstairs.

“ji?” you call to your boyfriend, who was currently washing the veggies.

“yeah baby? what do you need?”

“could you keep an eye on this in the pan for me? aera needs changing, she's about to start crying.” you stop what you're doing and go to leave when jisung stops you.

“you keep doing this, you're better at cooking that i am and i'll probably end up ruining it, i'll go change her.”

“are you sure?” you ask, eyebrow raised, half expecting him to be grossed out by the prospect of changing a diaper.

“yeah, i'll be okay. plus you've probably done it about a million times today, it's only fair i take this one.” he smiles at you and waltzes out of the kitchen and quickly upstairs to her nursery before you can stop him.

you finish cooking the meat in the pan within seconds of jisung going upstairs, and move over to continue with the veggies, when you hear jisung speaking softly to aera over the baby monitor, and you secretly thank yourself for buying the ones with the screen, so you could see jisung flick on the nightlight and carefully pick up your daughter and take her to the changing table

“it's okay baby, daddy's here, getting you all cleaned up” he whispers to her softly as she wails rom discomfort. he continues to clean her up extremely carefully, buttoning up her pyjamas again and slowly rocking her in his arms. she's still crying, and he decides to speak to her softly again

"it's okay,, shhh, im here. you're okay. everything is okay. you can sleep now bub." you watch as he softly strokes her head like he'd seen you to soothe her cries, pressing soft kisses to the crown of her head and singing a her lullaby quietly. it's not long until you realise he was singing the song he'd written for her, and her cries had almost completely stopped, once again tiny baby gurgles until there was complete silence, and he was placing her back in the crib carefully.

“goodnight little one, i love you so much. mommy and daddy love you so so much. you and mommy mean absolutely everything to me. she's doing so well with you, isn't she just the best?” he whispers softly as he tiptoes back out of the room, flicking the light off as he leaves. your eyes are filled with tears watching the entire scene and he comes back into the kitchen with a smile on his face

“baby? what are you doing? is the food done?” he asks when he sees you wiping your eyes on your sleeve.

“a-almost. sorry i was watching you put aera down. im so proud of you ji, you did so well.” you smile at him and give him a hug as he walks back over to you.

“do you really think so?” you nod, kissing his cheek softly. “thank you my love.”

“of course ji, i told you she loves you. she doesn't go back to sleep for me that fast. you're the best dad to her.” he smiles again and kisses you on the forehead, before pulling away

“let's continue? im starving.” you giggle as you hear his stomach rumble slightly

“hmm i guess so.” you tease, and you both get back to work

once the food was cooked, you eat in the living room while watching some television, before the tiredness from the eventful day washes over the both of you. you take the plates to the kitchen, about to start cleaning them yourself when your boyfriend stops you.

“i'll do it, you go get ready for bed baby.” he ushers you upstairs

“nooo, i don't wanna be alone.” you playfully whine, and you insist on staying in the kitchen with him this time, just enjoying being in his presence. he allows you to stay, and you wrap your arms around his waist as he gets on with it, and you practically fall asleep with your face smooshed against his back.

he lets out a soft chuckle as he untangles himself from you, picking you up softly and taking you upstairs to your bedroom, where he helps you find and get changed into some pyjamas since you were almost completely asleep at this point, the exhaustion had finally caught up to you. once you're both dressed, he takes you to the bathroom and sits you on the toilet seat, passing you your toothbrush as he does your skincare routine on you, which he'd mastered perfectly from watching you do it almost every single day you'd been together, making it a quick routine so you can both sleep faster. he cleans his own teeth quickly, before taking you both back to your bed, where you cuddle up to each other the minute you're both uncle the covers.

“goodnight ji, i love you.” you mumble sleepily, yawning as you speak, your head resting on his chest.

“goodnight baby, i love you too. sleep well.” he gives you a kiss on the forehead, making you hum sleepily, and almost instantly you're asleep.

jisung lies awake for a while, listing out for aera, so that you wouldn't have to get up to sort her out, but once he's certain everything is okay, he comfortably falls asleep too, thinking about what you'd said.

he was aera’s universe, and the two of you were his.

omg hi hello this is my first time publishing anything on tumblr !! i hope you enjoyed reading this - reblogs & feedback would be greatly appreciated <3