You Know What? Fuck You. *transmascs All Your Oscar Isaac Characters*

You know what? Fuck you. *transmascs all your Oscar Isaac characters*

Nathan still gets really bad cramps even though he’s well into his transition and HRT.

Also, even though the moon boys got top surgery ages ago and the scar is long gone, Steven still gets a bit of chest dysphoria and that’s why most of his clothes tend to be loose.

And Anselm has destroyed every record that he was AFAB and replaced them with the new records that record him as AMAB because he has the money and influence to do that and because he felt like it. He has also shot several transphobes personally both because they said something or simply because he was bored.

Meanwhile Poe needs to be told to take a binding break all the time because he either forgets to or he’s being stubborn and refuses to do so.

thank u fen!

Tailor Made

summary: reader is a costume designer for the Lennox House club, and Blue needs a new suit.

blue jones x reader

no smut, fluff, tension, pining, blue being blue, suggestive content but nothing explicit.

pro tip - highly recommend listening to tailor asmr or ambient asmr

He needed a new suit. Gorski had a theme for the performance tonight, and the suit jacket he had wasn't quite the right shade of red. Usually, Blue didn't wear his suits more than once, but he'd keep the ones he liked.

Sighing, he pulled on his undershirt and slacks and waltzed towards the fitting rooms. Tedious, tedious, he griped, to fuckin' stand there and pretend to be interested while the elderly seamstress held up different fabrics. He couldn't even smoke.

Blue rapped his knuckles on the door and shoved it open, snapping to get somebody's attention. The hanging racks were glimmering with the finished costumes for the girls tonight.

Cabernet red with gold and pearls. Apparently his suit was 'Merlot' and that wasn't the same.

"Bullshit," he grumbled, adjusting his collar. The designer, who, come to think of it, he'd never known the name of, walked stiffly over and looked him up and down.

"What?" She said flatly, "I'm in the middle of sewing fifty ruffled skirts, it's gonna have to wait."

Blue's jaw ticked. He never liked her attitude. "I don't like waiting," he snapped, "I need a jacket and a pocket square. Cabernet red," he added, like he gave a fuck.

The woman sighed, checking her watch for dramatic effect, and nodded to the back. "You'll be fitted with Darling. Now get out of my shop," she ordered. Blue curled his lip, smacking her ass as he passed. The nerve of that woman. He should have replaced her.

Darling. He didn't remember a Darling. Hopefully she was faster than her boss - she couldn't spend less than an hour just taking measurements.

"Hey," he called into the next room, "I need a-"

oh.

"Hello," he purred, looking at the girl standing over a pile of silk. He'd never seen you before. You stared at him, frozen like a deer in headlights. Your expression was wary, lips pinched and hands curled protectively over your chest.

"You must be Darling, yes?" His hooded eyes appraised you slowly, examining every lock of hair. You nodded slowly.

'Have...have I done something?" You asked quietly, eyes large and dewy. Oh, you'd be fun.

"Hm..." he pretended to think about it, reveling in the way your lips began to tremble.

"No. But I do need a jacket, so let's get to it," he grinned, clicking his tongue. You were very well behaved, obediently gathering your things and flicking through a large binder.

"I'll have to measure you," you said softly, "this shouldn't take long." You hovered your hands over his wrists, waiting for permission. He inclined his chin and you raised his arm to get the length of his torso.

"You've got manners," he noted, lips twitching. You nodded bashfully, murmuring thanks. Blue watched you delicately wrap the tape around his chest, then shoulders. Your fingers were light and gentle.

He'd like to fuck you.

But this game was fun, watching you flit around and look at him with your doe eyes. He was tempted to ask for two jackets, just for an excuse to watch you. If he sharpened his tone just enough, you'd reel away and school yourself demurely, then continue with another air of obedience.

Like a little bunny, Blue thought with a chuckle. You were fitting his collar, lips pinched in focus, when he couldn't resist the urge to stroke your cheek.

You froze, hands stuck on his lapels. You didn't move away, rigid with terror. He preened with the effect he had.

"Scared, bunny?" he murmured, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He paused, thumb caressing the shell. The soft sugary smell of your soap was enticing, and he leaned closer.

Your swallow was audible. "No, Mr. Jones," you whispered. He grinned, teeth glittering in the low light.

"Blue, please," he drawled, patting your cheek and leaning back. He could see the relief on your face, your shoulders slumping and a slow exhale from your rigid posture. That was good. You were being very good - he had a mind to make you a role model for the dancers. In these days he could hardly keep them in line. It was a relief to know he hadn't lost his touch.

You nodded dutifully and finished his measurements. His jacket was done in two hours, as he watched greedily from the corner. He was content to watch you all night, the way your curves showed through the drape of your dress. Everything about you was soft and innocent and he so wanted to grab a handful and break

No. No, he didn't want to break you. Then he couldn't play anymore. But he did want a taste. You would occasionally make eye contact with him, and he'd do a little smirk. As the hours went on, you got more and more relaxed, coming up to him with a question or comparing velvet to crushed velvet.

While your melodic voice was explaining the different colors, he was not listening at all. Frankly, he didn't care what color it was, they all looked the same. But he'd stand there all fuckin' night if it meant you'd keep talking and absently touching his back.

He was vaguely disappointed when you finished. You draped the coat over over his shoulders and nodded, straightening his tie and smiling to yourself. Blue stuffed his hands in his pockets to refrain from grabbing your face and kissing you stupid.

The show would start in an hour, so he slipped out, grinning like a fox. He liked his new toy.

And he played with you any chance he got. Did he need a new suit three times a week? No. Did he go to get fitted three times a week? You bet your ass he did.

It was by the eighth visit that you'd begun to enjoy your appointments. He could see it in your eyes, the sparkle that would appear when he sauntered through the door. The flinching had stopped and your voice was stronger. He'd touch you innocently, but inside he was purring with pride.

He could do whatever he wanted and you'd obey without question.

Blue was admiring your ass in a skirt when he realized you'd asked him a question.

"Hm?" he asked, still glued to your supple legs.

"Do you want a matching tie or not?"

What he really wanted was to run his mouth all over you and shove you in his pocket so he didn't have to share. Fuck the tie. Better yet, fuck him.

"Sure, honey," he said, folding his arms. "Whatever you think."

You'd smiled at him that time.

The next time, though, was different. The door, for one, was locked when he arrived. Already in a bad mood, Blue knocked firmly. He was, to his knowledge, the only one who went to you. Were you out?

"Darling," he called through the door.

It creaked open to reveal you with pincushion in hand. And another man with his back to the door. Blue slowly looked between you. You recognized the dark glimmer in his eyes and shrank away.

"No, don't hide, pet," he cooed, patting your cheek. His gaze was still stabbing the new guy in the back.

"Who's your friend?"

The man turned and averted his gaze respectfully. He was in his undershirt, presumably getting a new button-down. Blue had never been undressed that far. You looked away when his sleeves were rolled above his elbows.

Ah, so a special friend. Blue grinned, all teeth and malice. "I don't think we've met," he seethed, grip tightening on your face. Your lips wobbled.

The man straightened. "I'm a new patron," he said airily, "Madame Gorski recommended your little tailor here. Pretty thing, ain't she?"

Blue's fist cracked across his nose, sending him into the wall. You clapped your palm over your mouth and squeezed your eyes shut. You knew his temper was out of control.

The man howled, steadying himself against the wall in time for Blue to grab his neck and shove him out the door. "I don't wanna see you again," he growled, "not near her and not without me."

He slammed the door shut, chest heaving. The adrenaline of his scuffle sent his heart racing. Blue rolled his shoulders, trying to shake himself of the hot rage burning his veins.

He'd been so naive to think you'd be well behaved forever. Breathing deeply, he turned to face you, grin sharp as a blade. You were cowering in the corner.

"I thought this was an exclusive establishment," he said softly, anger bubbling under the surface. "I thought we had an arrangement." You were trying to press yourself into the scraps of satin as he stalked closer, hands flexing. You were mumbling apologies, breaths getting faster and faster.

His toes were touching yours, looking down in contempt. Your large eyes were teary and shaken.

"Poor little Darling," he pouted in false sympathy, "got a little greedy, didn't she?" You shook your head violently. Blue raised his eyebrow and nodded slowly.

"Yes," he said sternly, "yes she did." Catching his venomous tone, you slowly corrected yourself, nodding uncertainly. He smirked.

"Say it, bunny."

"I was greedy," you stuttered, trying to steady your voice. He leaned closer, dark eyes narrowed.

"What was that? Don't be rude, sugar, I know you have manners."

"I-I was greedy, Mr. Jones." Your cheeks were hot with shame and glittering tears ran tracks down your face. He cocked his head, dangerous gaze still locked on you.

"Will it happen again?"

You shook your head again, sniffling.

"From the top." He sat back pridefully, gloating in your embarrassment. Hiccupping, you wiped your eyes.

"I-I was greedy, Mr. Jones, i-it won't happen again," you said, keeping your chin up. You bit your lip against another sob, looking to him for approval.

"Good girl," he murmured, patting your face. "Not so hard, huh?" He leaned closer like one might approach a feral cat, still stroking your cheek. "No more tears, honey," he wiped them from under your eyes. "Don't stain the silk."

You nodded apologetically, avoiding his gaze. Gently, he angled your chin up to look at him. If it had been any other girl, he'd have you on your knees, but the hardwood would bruise you. Doll-like in your appearance, he was afraid to break you.

"You've done such a lovely job, darling," he murmured, leaning in to inhale your soap. That jittery shyness was shining through again, and he rubbed your shoulder caringly. "Don't be shy now, you were making such progress."

You looked at him imploringly, searching for the hidden meaning. Finding his eyes glassy and soft, you leaned in. Blue felt a rush of pride at your compliance, petting your hair and kissing your jaw. The cold metal of his jewelry warmed against your heated skin. His hands were rough in contrast to your dewy complexion. As his attention continued, the apprehension slowly left your body. Your head was tucked into his shoulder. Your eyes were soft and sleepy, completely at his mercy.

"Lay on my lap, darling," he whispered, arranging your legs over his. He was throbbing with need but the moment felt too delicate to pop just yet. Fabric rustled under his legs as you moved, trying to get comfortable.

"Did...did you need something?" you whispered into his collar. "I thought you wanted something to wear."

Blue traced your shoulder blades thoughtfully. "Mmm, I might've," he pondered, "but I think I prefer this." With great control, he gently patted your ass. It was too much. The vanilla smell was everywhere, and you were completely without restraint. He could do whatever he wanted...

Don't break her yet, he reminded himself, sucking a mark into your neck. You keened and sat closer, giving him access to your neck.

His gaze darkened. Later.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @krakenkitty

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nice

flufftober prompt - scent (day 3)

summary: You've got a very specific perfume that Nathan loves. He'd like to be around it all the time, but he struggles when you leave.

cw: none

This was the most frustrating project of his career? This, this stupid little pet project that was stupidly sentimental and not even something he cared about. Well, he did, a lot, but it was stupid.

Nathan sat crossly on the floor, an array of glass bottles around his feet. They were all open; floral, woodsy, spicy and aromas emanating from them in a powerful wave. It make the room feel almost humid, and a raging headache was pulsing behind his eyes.

He sighed, picking up the next one and taking a whiff. Woah.

Too much sandalwood.

The headache pounded, blood sloshing achingly around his sinuses. This better be worth it.

He'd tried literally everything. His android skin had a new capability for an artificial pheromone, of which could be scented with anything. The obvious choice would be your perfume. He'd snuck the bottle from your bathroom and jotted down every ingredient. Coding it had been a bitch but he got it done.

It still wasn't right.

You were out at some stupid gathering for a baby shower, so he couldn't smush his face into your neck and take a big whiff. If he could make Ava smell that way, maybe you not being here wouldn't bother him so much.

Nathan tossed down the clipboard and stalked out of his lab, snatching his boxing gloves on the way out. He needed fresh air if he hoped to get anything done.

Fuckin' impossible, he griped, sweat pooling under his chin. The thud thud thud of his gloves on the sandbag sent a satisfying ache through his shoulders. He ran through the algorithm over and over, timing the different inputs with his punches. It should have worked. He'd done a trial with some random combination of peppermint and it smelled identical.

Nathan slammed his shoulder into the bag. As he re-adjusted his stance, he got a whiff of-

hey. Whipping around, he searched the surrounding room, rubbing the condensation from his glasses. His gaze darted around the compound, hands at his sides.

Where- he knew you were there. Why weren't you coming to say hello? Scowling, he turned back to the bag and shrieked.

You grinned at him, a huge pink bear in your arms. Heart pounding, he scowled.

"Coulda fuckin' said something," he grumbled, stripping off the sweaty gloves. You wiggled your eyebrows.

"And miss that display of manliness? No way." Leaning forward, you pecked a kiss on his cheek. "Go shower, I wanna hug you."

Nathan ignored you, crushing you against his chest anyway. You groaned at the feeling of his damp shirt against your dress, attempting to shove him off playfully. He took the opportunity to mouth at your neck, drinking in the delicate smell.

Giggling, you pushed past him and nodded to the hall.

"What have you been working on?"

Nathan averted his eyes, suddenly embarrassed. "Algo," he said vaguely, rubbing his beard. You rolled your eyes.

"Duh, Einstein, I didn't expect you to take up knitting."

His lips quirked and he followed you to the kitchen. Your perfume hung everywhere, flooding his nose like a warm breeze. He loved that smell. A feeling of relief and comfort was undeniably tied to it; he'd felt soothed the moment he caught a trace.

While you prepared a snack, you chattered about the shower, discussing women he'd never met and the horrendous roster of baby names. It went all in one ear and out the other. Nathan kept his nose stuck in your neck, breathing slowly and steadily. The migraine had dulled to a mild ache, and he was content to fall asleep.

He didn't realize he'd stopped moving until you waved your hand in front of his face.

You cocked your head, poking his cheek. "Earth to Nathan? You there, baby?"

His eyes were dilated and soft, hand caught on the hem of his shirt. After a moment he nodded absently, kissing your cheek.

You watched him go quizzically. Before he reached the door to his office, he turned. "I need you for something real quick, come here."

Wiping your hands on a towel, you peeked in and saw the mess on the floor. Your eyebrows quirked. "Starting a perfumery?" You coughed at the strong odor.

He gave you a cross look and gestured to sit down. A tablet was open to a long list of code, cursor blinking. Nathan fiddled with something, humming absentmindedly. You took a moment to look around, smiling at the few pictures he had on his wall beside prototypes and old monitors. Sap, you thought fondly. Your favorite picture, the two of you on a hike, was centered on the wall with a nice oak frame.

He tugged your hair gently to get your attention.

"I need you to tell me every product you use," he said, pulling up a document on his device. "Makeup, shower, perfume, everything."

You stared.

"Why?" It was such a left-field question, so utterly out of character.

His dark gaze leveled with yours. "Shampoo?"

Wrinkling your nose at his stubbornness, you sighed. "Coconut vanilla. My conditioner has lavender and shea butter...uh, I dunno about shaving cream." He nodded, typing your answer. You shifted closer.

"What are y-"

"Next," he interrupted, blinking expectantly. Mildly affronted, you continued.

"Almond hair oil, sometimes I add dry shampoo, sometimes I don't..."

He frowned. "You smell the same every day, you always use that."

Your mouth was set to continue, but his comment made you pause. He was...huh?

"What the hell are you doing, Nathan?" your tone shifted, firmer and a little less silly. He caught it, the tips of his ears reddening.

"It's for a project," he muttered, shifting so you couldn't see his screen. Eyes narrowed in curiosity, you crept up behind him and nosed into his shoulder. He leaned in for a moment, then caught on to your plan and wriggled away. Your fingers danced under his shirt, digging into the sensitive skin of his sides.

Nathan swore around a huffing laugh, trying to escape your smothering affection. Laughing, you crept after him, fumbling to grab the tablet.

"Hey hey hey hey," he protested, tucking it under his shirt. Your hands were shaking as you cackled, flopping into his lap. The look on his face was attempting to be upset, but the glimmer in his eye was pure amusement.

"C'mon," you said softly, coming down from your fit, "what is it?"

He huffed and looked down, pretending that the floor had suddenly become interesting.

'Ava," he started, then cleared his throat. His tone shifted professionally, back into Genius mode. "Ava's chemical receptors can have...an artificial pheromone and I thought," he frowned, clearly trying not to blush, "I thought your perfume would be...nice."

"Nice."

"Yep."

He huffed again and tried to get up, but you wrapped your arms around his middle. Nathan grumbled but still buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply. A smile tickled your lips. You petted his head, feeling the raspy smoothness of his scalp.

Nathan realized he didn't want Ava to smell like you. He had you forever, he didn't need some shoddy replacement. That familiar drunk feel was churning in his chest, warming him from the inside. You met his lips in a sweet kiss, staring at him with such raw adoration that he had to duck away.

"If you miss me you can just say," you teased into his shirt, scruffing his beard with your fingers.

Fighting a smile, Nathan stuck out his tongue. "Shush, you."

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m comment to join the tags!

Summary: Spoopy Vampire falls for Basil Stitt (~2.4k)

Contents: 18+, gn!vampire!reader, blood, over pants hj

-----

Basil Stitt was the perfect meal.

Healthy enough. No romantic attachments. Only talked to his family a few times a week. Most importantly, he never left his apartment.

You weren’t above taking advantage of a lonely soul. You’d been a vampire since the early 1900s, and couldn’t remember what guilt even felt like.

You’d been watching Basil for a week or so from the building across from his. Noticed he was home at all hours of the day and night.

It had been awhile since you’d had a long-term meal. It was nice, once every quarter century or so, to have more than a one night stand with a human.

Basil was cute. Part of his face was damaged and one of his eyes was a little milky. You could fix that, though, if he wanted. And if he agreed to be yours.

But honestly, you preferred him this way. His scars made him human. Most vampires looked down on that kind of thing, but there was something about Basil. Like a sad puppy you wanted to scratch behind the ears.

He ate cold pizza straight from the fridge. He head-banged alone for an hour at 3 a.m., then cried until sunrise. Fell asleep with a pile of jelly beans on his chest, right there on the floor of his living room, a knife stuck in the cushion of the couch next to him.

He was perfect.

You watch Basil wake up, disoriented, then head toward the bathroom for his morning shower.

You slip out of the apartment you’d been staying in, one you’d charmed the occupant into loaning you (along with their neck), and out into the cold, gray morning.

You smell Basil’s shower gel as soon as you get off the elevator. He uses so much you can smell it through the window on the nights you’d watched him sleep. You can’t wait to lick the scent off of his skin.

You pick up the bakery box from the mat in front of his door. He gets donuts delivered on Sundays. You have to knock for almost five minutes before he answers. You hear his heartbeat racing. Poor baby, you can smell his pang of fear.

He opens the door with a paper bag on his head. He’s adorable.

Even through the two eye holes he’s cut in the front, you can see his dark, beautiful eyes. When they make direct contact with yours, you let the warm, false, charm of your immortality wash over him.

“Take off the bag, Basil. You don’t need it ever again,” you coo.

He rips it of with one hand, eyes wide.

“Oh,” you say with a smile, “you’re just perfect.”

He half smiles, his eyes dazed. “Thanks. But I’m not. I’m a monster.”

You raise an eyebrow at his choice of words. You let the charm fade, interested to see how he reacts.

Basil blinks, looking unsure all of a sudden. “Um. Who are you?” He asks, his hands fidgeting with the open door.

You inhale deeply. His scent is amazing. Sweet and clean. You can almost smell his loneliness. Even though you haven’t been human in more than 100 years, it touches you.

More than mouth-watering. You feel a stirring where you heart used to be.

“I saw you got a bakery delivery from the place down the street,” you say. “I just moved in down the hallway and was hoping you’d take pity on me. Invite me in for breakfast.”

Basil swallows. His hand comes up briefly, almost touching his scars. He turns his face so you can’t see them.

You lift the box of donuts. “I think these are still warm,” you say with a small smile.

Basil chews his lip. You smell sweat start to form at the back of his neck. Precious man child.

He takes a breath, as if to make himself brave. “I always make a big pot of coffee in the morning. I have juice, though, if you don’t drink caffeine. Come on in.”

Bingo.

You lay your hand on his chest briefly as you pass him to enter his apartment. Your hands itch to tidy things. This mess won’t do at all. Basil deserves better.

You stand in the middle of his hallway, so he has to make contact to pass you.

He lays his hand on your bare arm. His eyes go wide.

“Wow, I guess it’s cold this morning,” he says. “Your skin’s like ice.”

He rushes to the kitchen to pour you a warm drink.

“A gentleman,” you say, following him. “I haven’t met one of those in a long time.”

He shakes his head, embarrassed. “I’m not really. I broke up with my girlfriend over the phone a few months ago. I’m…”

His words trail off as you stand close to him in the kitchen.

You’re trying hard not to charm him. His real reactions are so cute, so genuine. You wish... well, doesn’t matter. Despite what books say, vampires can’t charm people into falling in love with them.

The thought startles you. Love. 

Is that what you want?

Basil hands you a mug, interrupting your thoughts.

“We can sit down in the living room,” he says.

He scoots by you and quickly clears the couch free of pillows and an empty bottle of wine. He flips the cushion that has a huge slit cut into it, filling spilling out. You’d watched him take a kitchen knife to it.

His outbursts are less these days, but still happen once in awhile.

You sit, setting the bakery box on his coffee table. He’s careful to hide the left side of his face from you. Always positioning himself just so, looking at you sideways. He’s so nervous his heart sounds like a bird’s.

You have no idea what scarred him.

Although, if the yellow post-its are any indicator, it was probably lightning.

You hadn’t seen it from your vantage point, but one of his walls is almost covered in lightning-bolt drawings and words.

“Are you an artist?” You ask, looking at the wall.

Basil half-laughs, sips his coffee. “No. Just another office drone. I work from home. I can’t leave my apartment. Obviously.”

Your gaze turns back to him. “Why do you say, ‘obviously’?”

Basil’s mouth turns down at the corners. “My face.”

His shoulders slump. You set aside the mug. It’s cold already from your hands sapping out the heat.

You move closer to him on the couch.

“I think you’re perfect,” you say.

“You’re perfect,” Basil says. “Confident. Gorgeous. I wouldn’t have had a chance with someone like you, even if I were normal. And now…”

You touch his hair with your hand, letting your fingers play with his dark curls, brush through. His eyes flutter closed. You feel him melt into the affection.

“Can I smell you? I know it’s weird, but I’d like to get to know you. Scent bonds beings in a way that nothing else can,” you say.

The question comes out of you without thought. It’s not a calculated move. You feel like you’re on a first date.

Basil’s eyes open. He nods.

You lean toward him, your face gently in the crook of his neck. The tip of your nose caresses his skin as you inhale. Basil’s so sweet your body is singing for him already.

You lean away before you lose control.

Basil turns his head, looking at you face-forward. He’s still nervous, but you’re unbelievably proud that he’s already showing himself to you. He probably sees the tinge of bloodlust in your eyes, but he doesn’t back away.

Maybe he feels it too. Something between you two that’s more than prey being drawn into a predator’s den to be torn apart.

You lick your lips. Basil’s gaze drops to watch, then flitters away.

“You want a donut?” He asks.

“Honestly, I don’t really eat.”

Basil’s brows furrow. “But I thought, I mean, you said you wanted breakfast. Not that I’m calling you a liar. Shit. Sorry. The only people I talk to are on conference calls at work.”

He looks down at his lap.

“It was a pretense. I wanted to meet you,” you say.

The tops of Basil’s cheekbones color pink from the compliment. You can’t help yourself. You reach out and touch his beautiful, warm skin with your fingers.

“I don’t mean to say I’m a stalker,” you smile reassuringly. “You’re interesting. Attractive.”

“Me?” Basil says. His voice gets high-pitched with disbelief.

You nod. “I have a sixth sense about humans. Compatibility and whatnot. I think you and I could be tremendously good together.”

You drop your hand when Basil doesn’t reply. It’s been many, many years since you’ve bothered to ask a human what they might like. Since you’ve tried to woo one without any special powers.

“I’ve lost my touch,” you say with an awkward smile. “I won’t force you. I’m sure your instincts are telling you to run by now. I’ll save you the trouble. Tell me to leave and I won’t bother you again.”

“My instincts are telling me to ask you to stay,” Basil says. He looks out the window. “Then again, they also told me I could fly and I should jump off my balcony right after my accident.”

You gasp quietly.

“It was okay. I fell into a dumpster.” He clears his throat. “It was gross, but I lived. Haven’t left my apartment since. But I think, sometimes, I knew you were watching me.”

“Your survival instinct. Like a gazelle on the savanna, your body knew I was there.”

Basil blinks. His big, brown eyes are clear when he looks at you again. He seems more sure of himself.

“I’m not perfect either. So, whoever you are, or whatever,” he corrects himself, “I think you’re interesting too.”

He smiles, the scars on his face making one side slightly tighter. As if he feels it, his smile fades slightly. He’s beautiful, nonetheless. You hope you can show him how beautiful.

“I’m a vampire,” you say quietly, trying to say it gently, hoping he doesn’t run screaming.

His body tenses. Apparently, his fight or flight is broken because Basil is still for a full ten seconds. Your thirst tugs at its leash, sensing an easy meal. But after so long, you’ve learned to control it.

“It’s daytime,” he says after awhile.

“It’s cloudy,” you answer. “Not comfortable outside for me, but I don’t burst into flames.”

“I invited you in,” he says to himself.

“You did.”

“But you don’t want to kill me?” He asks. He looks more confused than concerned.

“No,” you say emphatically, “I won’t to harm a hair on your precious head, Basil.”

He bites his lip uncertainly.

You reach out and tug him gently until his head lays in your lap. He looks up at your face, seemingly hypnotized by you, even though you’re not using any kind of charm on him.

You smile down at him serenely, twirling his hair around your fingers with one hand, the other brushing over the pulse beating in his neck.

“It would make me so happy if you would be mine,” you say.

His eyes flicker away, then back to yours. “Yours?”

“You have no idea how perfect you are, especially to someone like me,” you say, running your nails under the collar of his shirt. “Like you were made for me.”

You feel the blood rush up his neck, warming his face.

“Sweet Basil,” you say, leaning down.

You kiss him, leading with your tongue, before you let your fangs out. You want him to get used to the feeling. Basil barely notices, kissing you with wild abandon.

“You, you can,” he whispers, out of breath from the making out. He swallows. “… you know.”

You feel tenderness bloom inside of you. “Oh, Basil, my darling boy. I would be honored.”

He smiles, shifting to sit up slightly. “It won’t, like, turn me into a vampire or anything, right?”

“No, that’s a very different process,” you reassure him. “I won’t take too much, especially this first time. It’s very intense.”

He’s nervous, bless him, but determined. “I don’t think anything’ll hurt more than when I got hit by lightning.”

“It won’t hurt. Not after a few seconds. It’s intense in other ways. Sexually.”

Basil’s dark eyes pop wide. “I can handle it,” he says, mostly bravado.

“If you’re sure,” you say, bending your head.

You scrap your fangs along his neck. They’re sharp enough to leave a pink trail behind them, just a scrape along his skin.

He shivers.

You cradle him in your lap, your hand going higher on his leg.

“Is this okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, definitely.” He nods so hard his curly hair bobs down over his forehead.

You brush it back before getting back to it. You lay a hand over his already hard cock. Just enough pressure to draw a tempting whine from him.

His hips raise to meet your touch. You bite him. Fangs so sharp they slide into his neck like a hot needle through butter.

Basil tenses, flinches, but moans when your hand finds the head of his cock, teasing him over his pants.

You suck at the puncture wounds, a mouthful of heaven. He comes immediately, shuddering, a wet mess in his pants that you feel soak through right away. You moan at his neck, drinking and drowning yourself in the scent of him. The taste of his blood, warm and welcoming.

You shudder as you pull away. You kiss the wounds, suck gently again because you can’t help it. He tastes like candy. Sweet and addictive.

He looks dazed, but happy, looking up at you from your lap. Good boy that he is, he’s already half hard again.

“Will you stay?” He asks you. “I- I’ll be yours.”

You smile, a bloody tear at the corner of one eye. “Basil, dear, I believe I’m becoming very attached to you. Please know, you’re more than a pet to me.” You stroke his scarred face. “I will protect you with my life. And you will give me your life blood in return. Promise me.”

His face is soft and vulnerable. His milky eye closes slightly as he stares up at you with wonder. “I promise.”

You gently tilt his head. “Let me drink from you again, my Basil. And let us never be without each other again.”

:: Next Fic: My Girlfriend is a Ghost (Anselm) ::

:: #monsterfucktober ::

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teehee time for my weekly reread of this series!!

was just. hit. with a thought. you and anselm going down on blue at the same time, but one of you sucks his cock while the other eats him out, thrusting into his hole with your tongue. wanna make blue scream and cry from the pleasure (again)😵‍💫

I... I... shaking. This one sure did get away from me. (Thank you so much this thought is just *chef's kiss*)

Trine [3]

Anselm Vogelweide X Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Part One • Trine Masterlist • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • request info

Summary: Blue wakes up after the events of Anselm's dinner party.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: errrrrrrr, reader is married to Anselm, Anselm refers to reader as ‘my love’, Blue sort of being in subspace again, blow jobs, sixty nine, face fucking, ass eating, anal fingering, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, hand jobs, cumming on someone’s face, cream pie, begging, teasing, edging, not full blown choking but like squeezing someone’s neck during sex, Anselm being a little naughty consent wise - so I’m gonna say dubious consent, cum eating, dacryphilia, Blue really being in subspace, Blue being upset (he thinks he’s let reader down, he hasn’t)

Word Count: 4743

________________________________

The morning light sneaking through a gap in the curtains woke Blue. The angle perfect to get right in his eyes. 

He sat up slowly, his muscles aching pleasantly. 

He remembered the evening with you and Anselm, the warm bath and kisses after. A light meal and snuggled up pressed between you both in bed as he drifted off to sleep. 

The bed was now empty. 

Slowly he got up. He took the thin linen dressing gown (dark blue) from a hook on the door and put on the pair of slippers (also dark blue) by the bed. Where his clothes were from yesterday, he had no idea. 

There was a little thud of anxiety in his heart as he made his way downstairs. If you were both out, surely you would have-

“Mr Jones?” 

He jumped, turning quickly to face the butler who had apparently appeared from nowhere. 

“Mr and Mrs Vogelwide are in the second dining room.” 

“Right… thank you.” He paused, realising he had no idea where the dining room was let alone a second one.

His eyes lingered on Blue for a second. “I’ll show you the way.” 

Blue nodded and followed a step behind. Heat rose to his face. What must this man think? What thoughts were running around in his mind? Did he wonder why Blue was walking around in very obviously just a dressing gown? Did he know? Did he care? 

Suddenly Blue realised how low the neckline of the dressing gown really was, exposing the bites and sucked on bruises that littered his skin. He pulled at the material, trying to force it higher without loosening the belt. 

The butler stopped and knocked on the wooden doors before opening them for Blue.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime sir.” He closed them the moment Blue set foot in the room. 

It was a fair size, like the parlour, and further into the heart of the house. It was also more lived in, homely. Blue supposed that these were the rooms you and Anselm preferred to use yourself or with those closest to you. Leaving the large grandiose spaces for entertaining many guests, or gentle intimidation. 

You were both sitting next to each other at the dining table, a variety of breakfast foods before you. 

“Good morning.” Anselm smiled.

“Don’t you look absolutely ravishing in that robe?” You grinned, jumping up from your seat and walking over to him. 

“Absolutely.” Anselm echoed. 

“Thank you,” Blue smiled, all his insecurities melted away as you embraced him and kissed him deeply. 

“Come,” you took his hand and led him to the table, pushing him down gently to sit in your seat. 

“But aren’t you-” Blue tried to protest, but you just tutted at him and pulled up another chair so that you were now sitting directly on his left, Anselm on his right. 

“Where’s my morning kiss?” Anselm raised his eyebrows teasingly, his tone made Blue flush, his breath catch in his throat. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled quickly before moving forward and pressing his mouth desperately to Anselm's. 

The older man chuckled. 

“He hasn’t been up an hour and already you’re teasing him.” You pretended to scold your husband as you ran your fingers along the back of Blue’s neck, just dipping under the linen. 

He shivered under your touch. 

Anselm broke the kiss and grinned. “I’m doing nothing of the sort.” 

“Hmm.” 

Your husband winked at you before looking back to Blue. “Are you hungry? There’s food here, or if there’s something special you want we can get it for you.” 

Blue opened his mouth to speak but cut himself off with a low moan as you pressed close to him and left wet kisses just under his ear. 

Anselm watched with interest for a moment. “Now, what do you think you’re doing, my love?” His voice was low and rich. It would have made Blue’s cock twitch even without the added stimulation of your mouth on his skin. 

“I’m hungry.” You whispered between kisses, lightly dragging your teeth against his pulse point. 

Blue swallowed, he’d let you devour him. He’d let you do anything you wanted.

“Oh,” Anselm said innocently as he started to run his hand up along the inside of Blue’s thighs, pushing them further apart and slipping under the robe. “Are you?”

“Hmm.” You groaned against Blue’s neck, taking hold of his chin with your right hand and forcing his head back for easier access. 

He moaned breathily, squirming a little as you dragged your left fingers over his chest, slid under his clothing, and pinched his right nipple. 

You chuckled at the little high-pitched mewl he let out. “So sensitive.”

Blue was breathing rapidly already, his heart racing with every touch and word you both graced him with. “Please.”

“Oh, begging already are we?” Anselm tutted, inching his hand higher up Blue’s thighs and lightly caressing his balls. 

Blue jumped at the sensation, gasping and whimpering as Anselm slowly massaged him with his right hand, using his left to press on Blue’s inner knee and his own leg to spread Blue as wide as possible. 

Anselm shook his head, all mock disapproval, and turned to you. “He’s already rock hard.” He gripped the base of Blue’s cock, squeezing it briefly before going back to kneading his balls with his warm palm.

“Already?” You chastised. 

Blue moaned, his mouth dry, his head light. Both of your gentle reprimands went straight to his cock. Made it twitch and smear precum against the inside of the dressing gown, the drag of the linen sparking deliciously against his weeping head. 

“He’s such a needy thing.”  Anselm sighed. 

“So needy.” You tutted.

Oh god, he was. If you could just both keep talking like he wasn’t there, like he wasn’t worth speaking to directly, just a plaything for you both to toy with. He bit his lip hard, trying to stifle his moans. 

You could both just play with him forever, lazy and disinterested and he’d thrive on even the smallest attention. The simplest praise. He’d be so good for you. He’d cum again and again, whenever you wanted, whatever you wanted. He’d do it all for you. 

Your grip on his chin tightened and Blue’s eyes rolled back, the noise that escaped from his lips was obscene. 

“Please, please, please,” the words came without a solid thought of what he was begging for, just the need for you both. For you both to keep touching him and loving him and keeping him safe as you used him like a disposable object. 

He wanted to tell you, voice all these things he wanted you to do, but the full sentences just wouldn’t come. 

Slowly Anselm dropped to his knees, still massaging Blue’s balls and the very base of his thick cock, as you stood, urging Blue up at moving him with you so that he stood with his back pressed against your chest. 

You let go of his jaw to undo the belt at his waist and slip the robe off his shoulders. 

Blue gasped, shuddered as the material fell and Anselm sucked the tip of his cock into his warm and eager mouth. 

“Oh god,” he sobbed as Anselm deep throated him, easily taking him to the very base. Despite Blue’s previous experience with this particular skill of Anselms yesterday the sudden and intense pleasure was still a bit of a shock to the system. 

He shuddered, his thighs clenching and you held him tight, sinking your teeth into his neck and running your hands over his chest. 

You waited a moment, let Blue adjust to the feeling. His heart beat crazily under your hands, the filthy sounds of Anselm sucking and moaning at the taste of Blue’s precum echoed around the room. 

Anselm kept pulling back, taking Blue’s cock completely out of his mouth and lapping at the head before slowly sinking all the way back down, watching Blue’s every expression with dark, hungry eyes. 

Blue couldn’t even recall a time before when he’d had a blowjob like this, with someone so eager to consume every single part of him. God, if his girls could just give head half as good as this then he’d be a multimillionaire in less than a week. 

“Blue,” you whispered close to his ear, your voice rich and velvet soft. The sound so sweet he nearly came right then and there. 

He nodded desperately, not trusting his own voice. 

“If you want us to stop at any point, say ‘red’, is that okay?” 

He nodded again. 

“Blue,” you put a little more command into your voice and he moved to look over his shoulder at you instantly. “What do you need to say if you want us to stop?” 

“Red.” He breathed. 

You smiled. “Good boy.” And kissed his cheek softly before you also sank to your knees. 

Blue whimpered a little at the loss, craving your close presence and reassuring touch. 

But then suddenly you were kneading his buttocks, pressing your fingers against his skin with a firmness that made him shudder and moan. He bucked forward, thrusting deeper into Anselm’s mouth and the older man growled approvingly. 

Slowly you spread Blue’s cheeks, squeezing gently. You basked in the soft sounds of his hitched breathing before you inched forward and ran a board, flat lick over his hole. 

Blue cried out. Pleasure erupting along every nerve. He grabbed a fist full of Anselm’s hair with one hand, the table with the other, to keep himself from falling, disintegrating under the dizzying onslaught of sensations. 

You grin, moving your mouth away from him for a moment as Anselm still hungrily bobbed back and forth. 

“Did you like that Blue?” You tease. 

“Yes, yes,” he moans, the words falling out his mouth like a prayer. “Please.” 

“Has anyone ever done that to you before?” 

He shook his head rapidly, tears building in the corners of his eyes. 

“Do you want me to do it again?” 

The answer was instantaneous. “Yes, yes, please, please, I need you to, I need, oh!” He moaned so loudly as you leaned forward and did it again. Just as slow, relishing in the twitch of his muscles, his little gasps for breath.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgod!”

Anselm pulled his mouth off Blue, swirling his tongue around the head once. “I think he likes it, my love.” He said before he sank back down. 

You hummed an approving answer, sending the vibrations across Blue as you licked him.

“I do, I do, oh fuck, I do, so much! Please don’t stop!” He moaned again, tears spilling down his cheeks from the pleasure as you both worked his cock and asshole in tandem. Building him higher and higher to than tantalising peak. 

He rocked back on the balls of his feet as you and Anselm urged him back and forth. Pleasure coiled so tightly in his belly, threatening to explode at any moment. 

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-” Blue sobbed as Anselm pulled back and off him. 

Blue tried to tighten his grip in the older man’s hair, tried desperately to push him back to his needy cock. But Anselm quickly grabbed hold of Blue’s wrist, halting his actions with a dangerous look in his eyes. “Only good boys get to cum Blue.” 

Blue recognised his mistake almost instantly, quickly letting go. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, please.” He sobbed. 

You moved your mouth back, your hands still spreading his asscheeks. “Is Blue not being a good boy?” 

Anselm slowly shook his head, not breaking eye contact with the younger man as he whimpered above him. “He’s being very bad.” 

“Oh no.” You tutted. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- oh god!” He moaned wantonly as you traced around his tight ring of muscle with the tip of your forefinger and pressed against it. Not enough to push inside, but just enough to make liquid lightning crack up his spine. He arched back into your touch, desperately and you giggled. Gently nipping at his left cheek before you dropped your hands to your sides. 

“No, please,” he turned to you, begging for you to keep touching him.

“Shh,” you soothed, kneeling up and kissing his hip as Anselm stood, pulling off his own clothing. 

Your husband moved to the sofa in the corner, his heavy cock hitting against his stomach as he walked. You got a perfect view of his ass as he laid down, shifting a little so that he was comfortably on his back. 

When he was ready he made a slow come hither motion. 

Blue tensed, unsure if he should leave your arms at first. You chuckled and gave his ass a playful smack, encouraging him to walk over. 

Anselm took his hand softly as he approached, rubbing his thumb soothingly over his skin. Gently he directed the younger man to get on the sofa on top of him in the sixty-nine position. 

Blue breathed unevenly, his mouth watering at just the idea of being able to take Anselm’s cock in his mouth again. He was so thick and wide. Red and leaking and just begging to be sucked. 

Blue licked his lips as he got into place, carefully tracing his slit with the tip of his tongue and groaning. 

Anselm chuckled, his dick twitching in approval. “So needy and eager, that’s it. Take it in your mouth.” He pushed at Blue’s shoulders lightly. “Remember what you learnt from before, not too fast and not too deep, relax your throat, don’t choke yourself.”

Blue moaned and nodded as he slowly eased down as far as he could. 

“So good Blue,” Anselm moaned, turning his head to you and biting his lip as he held out his hand. 

You took it, stroking your fingers through your husband’s hair, before you moved to stand with the armrest in front of you. In this position, you had a perfect view of Blue’s ass. 

Softly you took hold of Anselm’s chin, tilting him up, and Blue’s cock guiding it down, until the head tapped against your husband’s lips. 

Anselm’s breathing rose, a light flush of his skin as you controlled his movements. The sensation giddy in his stomach. 

You opened Anselm’s mouth with your thumb, urging his bottom lip down before pressing Blue’s length into his hungry mouth. 

Anselm moaned as he swallowed around him, shivering from the still controlling grip you had on his jaw. 

Blue cried out in harmony, his sounds muffled by Anselm’s cock. 

You watched them for a second, the tears on Blue’s cheeks, both of their lengths disappearing into each other. 

Firmly you ran your hands up Blue’s thighs, spreading his asscheeks again and leaning over to lap at his needy hole. 

Blue groaned, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. 

You were firmer this time, harder, just thrusting your tongue into his tight ring of muscle and making him squirm and buck helplessly. 

It felt so good, he wanted to tell you, cry it out to you. Beg and beg and beg for you to keep going, for you to never stop. 

You bent even more forward, leaning against the armrest for support and spreading him even wider. 

He was so full, his mouth, his ass. Stuffed and just desperate for more. You grinded against him, forcing your tongue in deeper, pushing his hips up and down to roughly fuck your husband’s throat. 

Anselm growled happily, grabbing hold of your hand on Blue’s hip and squeezing. 

Blue sobbed. He was so close, so close. The edges of his approaching orgasm beginning to cloud his mind. His dick twitched in Anselm’s throat, his thighs shaking, stomach muscles contracting and-

Anselm pulled away from him with a loud pop. 

Blue sobbed. 

Your husband squeezed your hand, a whispered “stop, please,” coming from his lips. 

You pulled your mouth away and looked down at him. 

Blue forced Anselm’s cock deeper in his throat, gagging on it. Maybe if he made him feel good, maybe if he was good, he’d get to cum. Maybe if- 

Your hands are soft but firm on his shoulders, easing him back off Anselm. “Blue,” you kiss his cheek, “sweetheart, you’ll choke.” 

He sobbed, so horny and frustrated. “Please, I need it, please, I need to cum.” 

“Shhh,” you kiss him again, soft and sweet. “Do you want to stop?”

His answer is instant. “No, please, I’m sorry.”

“No, I mean the teasing.” You rub soothing circles on his cheeks. “You can say red, we’ll stop. I’ll make sure you cum straight away.”

He relaxed into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “I don’t want to stop, I like it.”

“Okay, good.” You kiss his lips again. “I just wanted to check.”

“Thank you.” He whispered, floating and weightless for a second like he was supported completely by your touch. 

Anselm kisses Blue’s thigh before flicking his tongue over the length of his dick and smiling when Blue shudders. 

“Come on Blue,” Anselm begins to shift underneath him. “Time for us to change places.” 

You help Anselm to move Blue so that he’s lying flat on his back on the sofa, he looks up at you both with large eyes. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes, my love.” Anselm trails his lips along your neck, slowly running his hands over your body.

Blue moans softly as he watches you lean back against him, arch into his touch as he undresses you. 

Anselm makes a bit of a show of it. When the last piece is finally off; he presses his chest to your back, rubbing his cock against the swell of your ass and spreading your folds for Blue to see. 

You moan softly as he kisses your neck, sucking lightly as he plays with your clit. His eyes locked onto Blue the whole time. 

You start to writhe under Anselm’s touch, he knows every single trick and move to work you to your release as quickly as possible. But he's steady and slow, gently working his thick fingers in and out of you and groaning as your slick coats his skin. 

Languidly, he lifts up your right leg and rests your foot against the edge of the sofa, so that Blue can see even more clearly, before he starts his slow torture up again. 

Blue watches mesmerised. His eyes flitting from Anselm’s face and his mouth on your neck, your face and how you gasp in pleasure, the way he rolls your left nipple in one hand, your chest as it rises and falls, how his fingers sink into you, the slick coating them. 

The sounds of your arousal are obscene, growing louder and louder as he keeps working you over, needing you wetter. 

Blue’s cock aches painfully. Burning arousal thumping between his legs. 

Finally, Anselm seems satisfied. He slowly draws his fingers out of you, making sure you’re stable before moving to the side cupboard and taking something out. 

“I want you to ride him, my love, please.” 

You nod, your thighs a little shaky from how he stretched you open. “Is that okay with you Blue?” You ask. 

He nods desperately, holding his arms out to you as you climb on top of him and straddle his thighs. 

He lets out a little whimper and sob, relief overwhelming him like the buzz of a drug. You kiss his tear stained cheeks as you line him up with your entrance and sink down. He’s hot and heavy in your hand, and you don’t tease. 

Blue throws his head back in a silent scream as he fills you. Your tight heat a remedy to the deep agony of his arousal. 

He moans, holding your hips tightly as you bounce up and down on him, fucking him perfectly into the sofa. He sobs, relief flooding his veins. So good, so good, so good. He fights to keep his hips still, to just let you use him, to be your good boy and just take whatever you’ll give. 

“Thank you, thank you,” he mewls, fresh tears in his eyes from just how perfect it is. 

“You’re so good Blue, such a good boy.” 

He moans loudly, biting his lip in an effort not to cum and fill up your sweet pussy. “Please!” He grabs your right hand and presses it against his throat, squeezing your fingers against his skin and begging you with his eyes. 

You get the hint instantly and can’t help but groan as you press firmly against his neck, not enough to choke him, but just enough so that he can really feel it.

Blue cries out, putting both his hands back next to his head as if you pinned them there, closing his eyes and completely giving into you. 

Every breath is a moan, every movement just another dizzying push, edging him nearly to finally burying that sweet ache. 

He mumbles your name constantly between hiccups of pleasured gasps. 

Yours. Yours. Yours. 

Anselm lets out a long groan, jerking himself off desperately as he watches you both. His length is covered in lube from the small bottle he pulled out of the cupboard. 

You hold your free hand out to him, beckoning him closer and he moves into your touch instantly, pressing his chin into the palm of your hand. 

You pull him closer and kiss him softly as you ride Blue. Anselm moans into your mouth, his hand a blur on his cock, the slap, slap, slap of skin filling the room. 

He breaks the kiss, pressing himself close to your side and nuzzling into your shoulder. 

“You both look so good.” He mumbles. “Want to watch this every day.” 

You kiss his forehead, his sweat salty on your lips. 

He gazes down at Blue. The younger man’s eyes are slightly dazed over, his mouth open. 

Anselm can’t help himself, he takes his hand off his cock briefly to hurriedly pour lube over his forefinger before taking himself back in hand. 

He reaches his finger down, sliding it between Blue’s slightly open legs and presses the tip against his puckered hole. 

Blue gasps, a different sound from his others. The pitch higher. 

It takes you a moment to realise what is going on, a flash of anger cutting through the pleasure in your core. You grab hold of Anselm by his hair, forcing him closer to you. He lets out a little shuddered breath, still sinking in and out of Blue and still pumping his own cock. 

You don’t slow the pace of your hips but you snarl at your husband. “Did you ask permission?” 

He bites his lip and shakes his head. 

You look back to Blue, softly touching his cheek as you grind down on him, your voice sweet. “Blue, baby, you okay?” 

He nods desperately. 

“You okay with what Anselm’s doing?” 

He nods again. “Yes, yes, please. More.” 

You smile. “Of course, good boy.” 

As you turn back to your husband you tug his hair again, pulling his mouth to yours. You kiss him harshly, all tongue and teeth, and bite at his bottom lip before you pull him back.

He stares at you, hazy and breathless. 

“Ask permission next time.”

He nods, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’.

“Or I’ll punish you.”

Anselm’s eyes close as your words, a deep groan rising from his chest. 

You tug his hair again. “And not in a way you’ll like.” 

His eyes snap open, blown wide with lust and he nearly cums on the spot. “Please.”

You smile wickedly, your fingers curling around the back of his neck as Anselm slides his forefinger past Blue’s ring of muscle and groans at how tightly Blue squeezes around him. 

Blue eyes go wide as Anselm sinks into him, his back arching uncontrollably. 

He lets out the softest moan, an almost strangled sound as pleasure explodes along every nerve, flaying him raw. 

He cums deep, bucking and thrusting and screaming his throat red. He can’t stop moving, can’t stop cumming as more and more spurts out of him, filling you completely. 

Anselm moans watching him, biting into your shoulder. You keep bouncing, trying to prolong his pleasure for as long as possible. 

You slow and stop as he does, keeping him deep inside. Anselm slowly eases his finger out of Blue, leaving him strangely empty. 

Blue’s mind is foggy, hazy from how hard he’s cum. He swallows, blinking heavily. “I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. 

“Blue,” you soothe, “what are you talking about?” You lean down so you can kiss him gently.

He kisses you back, tears in his eyes. “I finished before you’d cum.” He lets out a small sob, but unlike his previous pleasured filled ones, this is painful and cuts into your chest. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” you hush, kissing his nose. “I don’t mind, hmm? I don’t mind.” 

He looks up at you, trying to calm down as you stroke his cheeks. He nods.

“I liked it, you understand? Liked seeing you cum, liked that you felt so good. Okay? You’re my good boy for cumming like that, did it feel good? Cumming that hard?”

He nodded desperately, his eyes still shining. “Yes, yes I did. Loved it, love you.” 

“I love you too.” You kissed his lips again. 

Anselm bites his lips together, trying not to ruin the sweet moment but unable to stop fisting his length. The tears on Blue’s cheeks, fuck, how he wanted to smear them all over his cock. 

You sit up and glance at your husband, a small smile on your face at how worked up he is. 

“You gonna cum, hmm?”

He nodded, unable to speak, so close, so close. Just a little more. 

“I want it.” Blue moaned, suddenly desperate for it. He opened his mouth and held out his tongue.

Anselm groaned loudly. You guided him, your hand on your husband's arm, towards Blue. He was sure he wouldn’t have made it without your steadying touch.

He jerked himself quickly, pleasure so tight in his muscles, tried to aim, and, and- 

“Shit!” Anselm spurted all over Blue’s face, his tongue, his cheeks, some of it even hitting his eyebrow and lashes. 

Blue moaned as it hit him, revelling in it and letting Anselm squeeze out every last drop. 

Anselm breathed heavily, his whole body turning to jelly. You wrapped your arms around him to stop him from collapsing back and helped him to sit on the floor as best as you could with Blue’s softening cock still in you. 

“Okay?” You kissed your husband’s forehead. 

He nodded, breathing hard. 

“Blue?” 

He nodded as well, his dick twitching. Slowly he looked up at you with lust blown eyes. “Want to make you cum now.”

You smiled. “Blue, you don’t hav-”

“Please?” He pouted. How could you say no to that? 

You got off him gently, making a little bit of a mess on his cock and abdomen that Anselm hurriedly cleaned up with his tongue. He even went to lick away the spend that was left on Blue’s face but he shook his head. “Not yet.”

Both you and Anselm let Blue direct you softly. Anselm sat back onto the sofa, his back against the armrest, you between his legs with your back to his chest and your husband’s arms around you. 

“Is this how you want us?” You checked and Blue nodded as his eyes raked over both of you. 

Slowly, his muscles aching, he laid flat on his stomach, his face between your legs. 

You didn’t last long. Blue ate you out like a starving man, curling his tongue and sucking his spend from your throbbing pussy. Some of Anselm’s cum that still clung to Blue’s cheeks rubbed onto your thighs, as Blue moaned and lapped, and stared up at you like you hung the moon. 

You came against his lips with one hand bent back and holding the back of Anselm’s head, your husband’s mouth on your neck. 

You coaxed Blue up and into your lap, all three of you wrapping each other in your embraces. Just holding tight. 

After a long moment you frowned. “Why was there lube in the cupboard?”

“Forethinking, my love.”

You snorted and Blue nuzzled into your chest. 

“How did you know we’d need it in here?” You asked. 

“Ah,” Anselm smiled, rubbing Blue’s back and kissing your head. “Well that’s easy, I put some in every room in the house.”

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Thank you for reading!

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current fan creation landscape is kinda like if you went to a party with a homemade cake and everyone takes a slice and silently thumbs up at you with no attempt to start a conversation except for occasionally some guy sits in the corner with a tape recorder critiquing the cake as though he was a restaurant critic and another guy is handing the cake to an uber driver like "yeah i need you to find a restaurant that makes cake like this so i can have more of it" and the only person that's talked to you in 30 minutes is a very sweet little guy who was like "hey i liked your cake" and then ran away apologizing for bothering you the moment you said thank you.