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

[lith-myathar]

.

[cherimoyatea]

The LaDs Men healing your inner child...

...they accidentally evoke your insecurities and comfort you.

❧ Part III - Zayne - Healing Hearts

Pairing: Zayne x You Synopsis: You pretend to be fine when Zayne is called back to work on his day off. Word count: 901 Tags: workaholic zayne, disappointment, neglect, romance, fluff, comfort Side notes: Wow, are we already at Part III? Zayne's story is actually the reason why I created a mini-series instead of posting all four stories at once. It simply got too long, and I had to rewrite the other stories to match their length. In this part, we address the theme of rejection and neglect, but luckily, we have Zayne to help us realize that our feelings matter. Part I - Xavier ❧ Part II - Rafayel ❧ Part IV Sylus

Beep-Beeeep.

A sharp sound cuts through the peaceful moment as you lie on the couch with Zayne. Still exhausted from yesterday's mission, your head rests on his lap, and you're about to fall asleep halfway through the movie while his fingers softly stroke your hair.

He carefully leans forward to reach for his pager on the coffee table while you rub your sleepy eyes. Noticing Zayne's serious expression you slowly sit up next to him. ''What's wrong? An emergency at the hospital?''

Zayne nods as he stares at the pager, reading the message from Akso Hospital. Today was his day off, and he promised to spend it with you. He takes a deep breath and sighs, sliding the pager into his pocket while he shifts his worried gaze to you. He hates himself for asking you this. ''MC, do you mind if we reschedule our movie date?''

You swallow as your heart drops at his words. You saw that coming.

More people are falling ill since the days grow shorter and the nights become colder. Even doctors and nurses aren't spared, which leads to a shortage at the hospital. Zayne had already told you that he was on call, but you had hoped he wouldn't be needed.

''No, it's fine. I think I'm too tired for a movie marathon anyway.'' You reply with a forced smile, even though you feel like crying. You haven't had time for each other in weeks, but you know how important his patients are to him. Putting your needs aside is something you're used to, and you don't want to be a burden by asking him to stay. Instead, you nod heavily as you stand up from the couch, pretending to be alright. ''Let's go, Zayne.''

The young doctor watches you intently for a moment before responding, his eyes following your movements as you walk over to the coat rack to grab your jacket. He knows you too well and can clearly see the disappointment behind your feigned bright expression.

He wishes he could silence the pager and dismiss it, but the oath he's sworn holds him to his duty. So he clears his throat and keeps a straight face, even though it’s breaking him inside to walk away from you.

''Alright. I’ll drop you off on the way.''

Zayne's attentive eyes are focused on your profile while the motor of his vehicle purrs softly. It's been the only sound since you left his apartment and your silence couldn't be louder to him.

When the signal turns green again, he reluctantly takes his gaze back to the road, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as he tries to figure out how to get to you.

Beep-Beeeep.

The sigh that escapes your lips as his Pager goes off for the second time today is not missed by him.

''I apologize that we have to postpone our date. I didn't expect it to end like this.'' You hear Zayne's calm voice as he tries to reach you, hoping for a response. You shift in the passenger seat, staring out the window, not really focusing on anything. Another faint smile appears on your face as you turn to him, wondering whether you should tell him the truth: That you feel rejected and disappointed. That you miss him and want to be with him.

But there is this numbing feeling that you might come off as too needy, as someone who clings and is just too much to handle. ''It's okay; don't worry too much about it, Doctor Zayne. We can always meet again on your next free day.'' You say as you stop in front of your apartment building.

Without waiting for his response, you get out of Zayne's car and close the door a bit harder than you intended. You know it's not his fault and that he didn't intentionally let you down. Yet a crippling feeling of neglect washes over you as you retreat from his sight. Completely unaware of his longing gaze upon you as the engine starts again.

Later that day, you have already resigned yourself to spending the evening alone when you suddenly hear your phone vibrate on your desk. Your heart skips a beat as you see Zayne's name on the display:

''I'm taking the day off tomorrow to compensate for today and bought two tickets for a movie tonight. Would you like to accompany me? I'm waiting downstairs.''

You rush out of your apartment as fast as you can, still in disbelief that he is actually here. Zayne is leaning against his car, and a smile spreads across his handsome face as he sees you running towards him, jumping straight into the arms of your beloved. He chuckles softly as you bury your face in his chest before looking up at him.

''Zayne, about earlier... I'm so sorry for how I acted I-'' Your words are interrupted as gentle, green eyes stare back at you while he slowly shakes his head. ''No. You don't have to act strong all the time.''

You feel his arms loosen around you, and just as you start to panic, his warm hands gently wrap around your trembling fingers. ''It's alright to feel disappointed when things don't go your way. All you have to do is tell me how you feel and promise to be honest. I will accept you, no matter which side you show.''

Thank you for reading! Cherry 🍒 Updated Nov. 20th: Added links to the other parts + fixed formatting.

[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

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@queeny23 @bebesobrielo @heauxvibez

[badomensgoodomens]

BAD DECISIONS

CHAPTER ONE.

Noah Sebastian X reader

CW: sex and a ridiculously cringy argument. (p-in-v, shower sex, rough dirty talk)

credits to @emluvsuxo who proofread this chapter and did not tell me how absolutely cringy and shitty it is (xoxo) i promise the other two chapters I've written following this one are better academically, and storyline wise.

tag list at bottom of post.

READERS POV 

Noah currently had me sprawled out on his bed, his fingers pumping in and out. My head was thrown back with pleasure, but ultimately, I was in a different place. He pauses his movement, “you good?” he asks, gazing down at me. I nod, mumbling about how I had a rough day. 

We hooked up often, a stress reliever for both me and him. He wasn’t like other boys i’d fucked, he was slow, meaningful and very set on both ends receiving pleasure. However, I always wake up alone. I wasn’t beginning to care about that factor until now. 

When I woke up the next morning, half naked, I just laid there for a while. Why do I all of a sudden need this man for more than just sex. I mean he wasn’t ALL that.. With his uhm….. Fuck. 

I crave that man from the inside out.

—-----------------------------------------------

After a couple of hours of wallowing in delusion with my hands between my legs, I dragged myself out to the studio. I needed to work on a few pieces and get them shipped out. Art was a big passion of mine, it was a great stress reliever (alongside sex with the god himself; noah.) I was successfully channelling every emotion without taking it out on someone else, and turning it into art. Soft music played in the background as I spent hours focusing on every individual brush stroke, trying to perfect this specific piece. 

I ignored everything for a while, texts from my sister, from my mom, even from noah. I was antsy, and a little dizzy. I was losing daylight, this piece wasn’t even remotely done. I’d have to return to it tomorrow.

I close and lock the door to my studio, heading down the steep flight of stairs to the carpark. I knew Noah went to the gym around here, and prayed silently I wouldn't come across him. I was still incredibly contradicted. Did I really want more from him? 

The sun had set and I wasn't even half way home yet, clairo played softly over the radio. I was overwhelmed, not sure how to feel about noah. Fuck. Why is bags playing? 

Fuck  

Fuck 

Fuck 

Maybe I am in love with him? 

_________________________________________________

NOAH'S POV 

I chuck my phone down onto my bed, rubbing my hands over my face. She hasn’t responded yet. Maybe she's given up on me. 

Fuck. I'm painfully hard and I need her soft skin against mine. I hadn’t told the boys about her, I didn't intend to ever date her, I don’t think. We were merely friends with benefits, I'm not ready for commitment. 

It isn’t like I don’t trust her or anything, I'm just scared, and hurt. Natasha fucked me up real bad, hence why we were strictly friends with benefits. No cheating, no trust issues, just meaningless sex. Even though, now when I smell her perfume, it makes me dizzy.   

My head was resting on my grey pillows as my hips stuttered, my right hand jerking up and down my cock. Soft groans spilled out of my mouth as my hips snapped up. I was seconds away from cumming when my phone rang, it was her, her contact photo illuminating my entire phone screen. And holy shit it made me cum. 

I had taken a photo of her, half naked, standing by the big windows in her bedroom. I’d just fucked her brains out, but she was more intrigued by the moon. I scramble to answer the phone, pulling my pants back up. 

“Hi?” her voice came through my phone speaker. 

“Hi, are you busy right now?” I asked, readjusting my pants. 

Her soft sigh fills my ears, and I almost moan. 

“I’m on my way home from the studio, shower sex sounds good enough for you?” 

I climb out of bed, mumbling a soft yes. 

—---------------------------------------

I pull up to her house at roughly 8pm, letting myself in. She's standing in the kitchen in a pair of paint covered track pants and a sports bra. 

“You’re covered in paint” I grin, watching as she eats a microwavable meal. She looks over herself, an embarrassed smile gracing her pretty face. I swear my pants tighten. 

“Right. Upstairs. Now.” I smirk, slipping off my shirt. 

She turns the shower on and hurries to get her clothes off, discarding her silly little lace thong. My hand reaches the back of her neck, pulling her soft lips against mine. It's a clash of teeth, kisses and moans. 

“Bend over” I growl, spitting on my fingers. She does as she's told, making a show of bending over in the spacious shower. My hand comes down harshly on her pretty ass. I gently trace my fingers over her clit, her breathing quickens.    

I lean my head down near her ear, nibbling on it, taking notice of the way her thighs squeeze together at the dirty things I'm whispering in her ear.

My fingers slip inside her tight pussy, pumping in and out. Her soft moans fill the room, blessing my ears. “Gonna make you cum, huh?” I groan, watching her clench down on my fingers. “Gonna make you cum with just my fingers, you dirty girl.” 

__________________________________

I walk out of the shower, stretching my back. I slip my clothes back on, gathering my stuff to leave. She walks me out, wearing just a tshirt. I clear my throat, turning to face her. She looked up at me, her face littered with a post-orgasmic glow, but her eyes said something different. 

READERS POV

He pulls me in for a kiss, a magical one at that. I was enjoying it for a moment until I could taste a hint of hennessy. I pull away, feeling a mix of hurt. “So you just came here to fuck me because you were drunk?!” the words came out before i could even process them. Surprise washes over his face, “w-what?” he mutters, stepping back a little. I rub my hand over my face, why the fuck did i say that? 

This was going to go south real quick. 

“Am I no good?” 

His face is quizzical, his eyebrows raising. “What? Baby-”

“No. don’t call me that. Tell me, am I no good?” the words fell off my lips in a hurry. I felt sick to my stomach, I was head over heels with this man and I needed to know. 

“What the fuck are you talking about-” 

I cut him off. “Do you actually want to fuck me? Or am I just the only one willing?” I ask, crossing my arms over. My heart hurt. 

“I- we talked about this. We are strictly friends with benefits.” Noah responds, shuffling awkwardly back into the house, not wanting to give the neighbours a show. “You’re not even my fucking friend though! You won’t introduce me to your friends, you only come over for sex!" I yell, shutting the front door. Well yeah. That was the whole point of our relationship, but he could’ve at least been nice enough to. 

I watch him rub his hand over my face. His leg was bouncing up and down. 

“You caught feelings, didn’t you?” 

My stomach dropped, I mean I hadn't exactly been secretive, but it was still terrifying. 

“Why is that so wrong!!” I cried out, tugging at the roots of my hair. Was it because he was some rockstar? Was he just like… using me for my body?  Ironic isn’t it?

He sighs, sitting down on my grey couch. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen-” 

“Can I be yours?” the words spill out before i can stop myself, a desperate plea. The room is silent again. My hopes are not very high. 

“What-?” 

“Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours-" I fumble with my words, avoiding eye contact. It felt like I was being burned at the stake.

Panic sets over his face, I panic myself. 

“We talked about this- i- i can’t do that.” he answers, standing up. Shuffling towards the door. 

“You walk out those doors and you’ll never see me again-” the words were much harsher than intended, but I was at my wits end. Our relationship was boring, just sex and nothing else. That wasn’t what I wanted it to be. God, I felt like some trashy whore.

He faltered his movement slightly, but continued walking. 

The last thing he said to me was, 'I’m sorry.' Those words hung in the air, heavy and final, just before I turned away and never saw him again. It wasn’t just the apology that hit me—it was the weight behind it, the finality in his voice, as if it were the last thing he could offer, and it still wasn’t enough. My chest tightened, and a cold wave of nausea rose in my throat. It was as though his words, meant to bring closure, had instead unravelled something inside me, leaving me hollow and raw. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—just the echo of his voice and the bitter sting of what could never be fixed.

The door slammed shut, making the thin walls of the lifeless house shake. Bile rose in my throat, I ran up the creaky stairs, my voice a mixture of pained cries and gagging. 

_______________________________________

For days, I couldn’t stop hearing those words—his apology. It looped in my mind like a broken record, each repetition digging deeper. But as the days wore on, I started to realise something. Maybe the hardest part wasn't that he’d hurt me. It was that I was still holding on to the hurt, still letting it have power over me. I had to choose to let go.

authors note:

yes, I know I made this story out to be so much juicier and written so much better, just have some patience. I wrote this literally like 2 months ago and have increasingly gotten better.

Taglist: @lilcrazy011 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

let me know if you’d like to be added

credits: whoever made that divider ily. i swear it was @silent-stories do correct me if I'm wrong.

[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.

[leighsartworks216]

Boss's First Christmas

Sylus x gn!Reader

Soft Sylus looking like a dad in his glasses my beloved

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, Christmas, cuddling, kissing, glasses

Word Count: 449

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

"Sy? Do you celebrate Christmas?"

The question comes late in the night. Late only for you. Sylus is wide awake, tablet sitting in his lap as he lounges up against the headboard beside you. You insisted he stay with you until you fell asleep, but now your thoughts are too busy for sleep. Namely, the encroaching panic of needing to gather gifts for your friends, family and coworkers.

He hums noncommittally, swiping aside on the tablet screen. "I don't."

"Do you celebrate anything else?"

He chuckles, tablet turned off and forgotten in favor of turning to look at you. His glasses perch on his nose, nearly invisible by design. He looks so pretty in them, paired with his red sweater. "I don't celebrate holidays unless you celebrate them, sweetie. Is that what's keeping you awake?"

You reach up to brush his hair from his face. He happily leans down to let you, even angling his face down when you grab the bridge of his glasses and slip them off. "Kinda," you admit. You flip the glasses around and slip them onto your own face, blinking to adjust to the prescription. "Christmas is coming up soon. Do you wanna celebrate it with me?"

"What would celebrating it with you entail?" He slips the glasses down your nose with his finger, but doesn't remove them. He pokes the tip of your nose playfully. You swat at his hand, but he's too quick to be hit.

"Well, there's decorating and baking and shopping and wrapping gifts."

He quirks an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

You scoff. "That's just the broad strokes. But what do you think?"

He doesn't answer right away. Instead, crimson eyes flicker over your face as warm knuckles brush over your cheek. You always wonder what goes on through his head when he gets like this. Eyes a million miles away even as he stares right at you. Touch as delicate and soft as a flower's petals.

You touch his cheek, and just like that, he's back there with you. His lips lift into a grin. His eyes find yours. "We can go shopping tomorrow. I'm sure I don't have the proper decorations lying around."

A bubbly warmth wells inside of you, giddy at the prospect of your first Christmas with your boyfriend. You draw him down into a soft kiss. "You won't regret it, I promise!"

"I have a hard time regretting anything when it's with you." He kisses you once more before sitting back up. He steals his glasses from your face. "Now go to sleep. We're going to have to break the news to the twins in the morning."

"Oh god."

"Mhm. You're gonna need your rest."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko 

[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

[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.

[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)

[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

[captainlunaxmen]

Charm

Charlie Weasley x reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰Also if you want to be tagged in future Charlie's stories let me know❤️

Summary: time to meet the family.

"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 parents 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," she 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 two 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 out 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.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

HI FEN do you have any hcs about nathan + carving pumpkins?? like I think that'd be the only thing he'd wanna do for spooky season but also he'd probably Suck At It and i just wanna knowwww

i'm sure your ask box is exploding so it's ok if you don't get to it ily

Firstly, I love you. Secondly, this is intentionally late (I hope that will make sense when reading <3). Thirdly, I love you some more!

Nathan Bateman x gn!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Nathan's been working himself too hard and is a little forgetful.

Warnings: Swearing, overworked Nathan, teasing, references to sex chairs and porn, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 517

You pause as you enter the kitchen and take in the sight before you. 

Nathan is sat at the table, crouched over a pumpkin. 

“You okay there?” You ask, a little hesitantly. 

His head wipes around to look at you, a pained expression on his face.

“You alright?” 

“This is disgusting.” He pulls a face. 

“What, erm, what are you actually going there?” 

He moves to the side, showing you the pumpkin he was trying to deseed on the table. He waves his hands at you, showing a pair of blue plastic gloves he has on. “Even through these, it’s gross. I hate it.”

You nod a little, “Why are you cutting up a pumpkin like that?” 

He looks at you like you’re a lesser lifeform. “It’s Halloween.” 

You let his words hang in the air for a moment, “It’s November.” 

“What?”

“The 14th.” 

“What?” He stares at you incredulously. “It is not.” 

“You see,” You swallow, savouring his outrage, “Nathan, normal people-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” He folds his arms and then grimaces as wet, gloved hands touch his skin and quickly unfolds them. 

“Normal people, you know, those that are normal.” You walk towards him and sit down next to him.

“I’m holding a knife you know.” He scowls and you smile sweetly. 

“Normal people have phones, that tell them the dates and times, they have the date on their computers, the watch the news and look at-”

He holds his hands up, “Alright, I get it, I get it.” He scowls a little. “I just wanted to…”

“Wanted to?” 

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I just wanted to do some, you know, holiday shit with you. Thought you’d like it.” 

You’re a little touched by the thought, but then you frown. “Nathan, you know I had time off, literally around Halloween, so that I could go home and spend it with people. You complained the whole time that you were lonely, and sent me that video of you on that sex chair you made.”

He pauses. “That was on Halloween?” 

You shove him playfully in the arm, but you can see the flush of colour in his cheeks. He genuinely had lost track of the days.

You rest your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around him. “You’ve been working too hard.” 

“Hmm.” He mumbles, obviously not happy. 

“Hey,” you stroke his cheek as you sit up, “I’ll carve the pumpkin with you, we can have Halloween 2.” He gives you a little smile, “Electric boogaloo?” 

You snort. “Electric boogaloo… we can watch that later if you want.” 

“No, I wanna watch some terrible mock horror porn.” He says in mock seriousness.

You giggle, “You got something in particular in mind?” 

He nods, “Oh yeah, you’ll like it, I promise.” 

You watch his face for a second, “Is this actual, you know, professional porn, or is this something you made yourself?”

“Are you saying my videos aren’t professional?” 

“You’ve got good lighting in them, that’s for sure.” 

He grins happily as you scrape out the pumpkin seeds with a spoon.

Thank you for reading!

(My taglist is too long now for tumblr to work right, which is very humbling, so I'll be adding them in a reblog.)

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[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

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