#face-sitting

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Here are some face-sitting fics...

taste his precious fruits by animeangelriku (E)

“You must be terribly sensitive…” His hands have moved from Crowley’s back to his hips, perfectly manicured nails scratching his sides all the while, and his grip is possessive, craving. “But I would so love to taste you one more time.” Aziraphale bites the flesh slightly lower from where his mouth last was, just a few kisses away from where Crowley’s plump lips must be glistening with arousal. “My dear, will you give me one more? Will you do that for me?” Not can you. Will you. Crowley already knows he will.

picture it soft by perilit (E)

Crowley has noticed, certainly, the way that tattered waistcoat puckers a bit around the angel’s sides these days, the way the seat of those trousers fits more snugly than before. He’s had to excuse himself from the room more than once because of it, thoughts reduced to mush at the barest glimpse of the fuller curve of Aziraphale’s arms. Shameless body worship.

Tucking In / Playing With Your Food by ashaydamn (E)

Above all, Aziraphale had taken the keenest liking to the taste of Crowley’s cunt. Though, ‘liking’ was not a strong enough word - he adored it, craved it, was an absolute glutton for it. From the first touch of his tongue to those throbbing folds, he was insatiable, devouring Crowley like the starved creature he’d been before that fateful night in Job’s cellar. After all, he had certainly been hungry for more than just food. Aziraphale enjoyed Crowley the same way he enjoyed a meal - ravenously. -- Of course, nothing made Crowley happier than watching his angel cum. His body would light up - sometimes literally - with a sort of pure, unadulterated joy, and the sounds he’d make then could rival the oeuvre of any composer in the known universe. But, Crowley had found it markedly difficult to resist his innate ophidian biology on the journey to said ecstasy - though frankly, he’d also discovered that indulging in it from time-to-time ultimately fostered a uniquely euphoric experience for them both. Crowley’s a snake - he likes to play with his food. -- In which Aziraphale indulges in his favorite meal, then Crowley has a go at making his angel see stars.

love me like you know me by 11min_min11 (E)

Crowley and Aziraphale have just moved into a small town and decide to go to the fair that's running today, to get to know the locals a little better. When they come home, they decide to get to know each other a little better. Not that there's much left to know.

We Live With No Lies by MovesLikeBucky (E)

“What?  Got somethin’ on my face?” “No, it’s just, well…” Aziraphale sets his glass down on the table and fidgets with his signet ring, “I wonder if you might allow me to assist you.” “What?” “With your boots, my dear,” Aziraphale is doing his level best to look anywhere but at Crowley’s face.  “I daresay you seem very exhausted, and I could quite easily help you with them.  If you’d like.” --- What starts as a simple favor turns into so much more.

Gibraltar May Tumble by adverbian (E)

A little first-time (extremely soft) light bondage on a rainy afternoon, with feelings and tenderness and love. It was an ancient dream, old as the Garden and a vine that had twined around two branches together, dangerous as the offer of a sheltering wing. But in this quiet cottage, in this bedroom looking out to the hills and the sea and the sky, certain things were proving possible, after all.

Upon request, here is a rec list of BL fics that feature face-sitting. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word.

Happy reading!

1) Take My Hand, Darling | Explicit | 5635 words

Harry wants to experiment with bondage, but Louis' worried about trying new things. They both kinda miss holding each other's hand.

2) I'm Addicted To You | Explicit | 6167 words | Sequel

They don't get to do what Louis wants until a couple of weeks later, after being knee-deep in work and trying to cover everything that has to do with the topic. They agree on everything Louis would like to experiment with, and Harry agrees mostly on everything. It's not extreme per say, but not having to touch Louis during it, it feels a little too extreme for Harry nonetheless.

At first, he had complained about not wanting to do it because to him it felt that the most important thing of their sex life is when they get to touch each other and transmit each electric, thunder-like feeling they perceive in moments like that. Louis, on the other hand, had pouted, exclaiming that sometimes one had to step out of their comfort zone to experience new things. He had promised that in the first moment Harry would feel uncomfortable or lost in what they were doing he would immediately stop.

3) Singing Your Praises | Explicit | 6226 words

Prompt 86: Louis rides Harry while wearing his packer’s jersey/sweater and gets his ass ate.

here u go - ana

Colors of the Wind by DunWithAllTheseHoes (3/3 | 24972 | Mature)

7 - Face-Sitting

8 - Giggly

***

Stevie’s high.  She’s high as shit.  She keeps giggling, under her breath, at nothing. 

Billy adores her.  The way her face is soft in ridiculous, nonsensical glee.  

There’s music playing, some poppy bullshit, but Billy doesn’t mind because Stevie’s swaying around her room in nothing but panties and Billy’s kind of in love with her.  

“Baby,” Billy says, resting a cheek on her palm, spread on on Stevie’s bed as she watches Stevie clumsily apply Billy’s red lipstick to her mouth in a mirror.  “What are you doing?” 

“I’m being you,” she says, cheeky, and then plucks up Billy’s jacket. 

“Hey--” she starts to sit up, to stop Stevie from pulling it on because that thing is sentimental, but then Stevie’s got it over her shoulders and she’s popping the collar in the mirror.  

And-- And jesus, she’s beautiful.  Pale skin dotted here and there with moles, dark hair in soft waves around her face and shoulders, her cute little ass peeking out from under the hem of the jacket with just a hint of pink lace.  Her pert, soft breasts just barely hidden under denim.  Her face flush.  Her smile wide. 

“Well?” she asks and gives a little twirl.

Billy swallows.  “Get over here,” she says. 

Steve does.  She watches as Billy pulls herself up on her bed a bit.  Worries her lower lip between her teeth.  Billy wants to kiss her stupid. 

“Take off your panties,” Billy says, breathless.  “You’re gonna sit on my face and I’m gonna make you sing, princess.” 

Stevie blinks at her.  Then, she shoves her panties down and steps out of them.  She goes to shrug out of Billy’s jacket, and Billy’s quick to stop her. 

“No, Stevie,” she says, crooking a finger.  “Just like that.” 

Stevie’s cheeks are pink, but then she’s crawling up onto the bed in nothing but Billy’s jacket.  Crawling up over her, settling as Billy positions her over her chest, and shivering as Billy pets up her thighs.  

She’s already wet when Billy gets her tongue up inside her.  She gasps, so lovely, and steadies herself with her hands on the headboard.  Billy moans, licking into her heat, tasting her cunt and then diving deep.  

She makes the best noises.  Keens and whines as Billy fucks her with her tongue, as she licks at her clit and sucks.  Rocks and rides her face, panting, pussy flooding with slick.  Billy loves it. 

By the time Stevie’s voice has pitched higher, sweeter, Billy’s jaw starts to ache. She knows Stevie’s close, though, the jacket off one shoulder as she ruts and tosses her head back.  As she arches and moans, tightening up.  

Billy gets a thumb petting at her clit as she fucks her deep and perfect, tongue curling, and groans as Stevie’s thighs pull taut-- as she cries out a sharp Billy-- as she comes with a gush and a shudder.  

Billy eases off, just a bit, and works her through it.  Eases her back down from the high.  Guides her back and over, until she’s on the bed and still twitching. 

“You’re so fucking hot, princess.” Billy tells her, pushing her hair back from her face, wiping off her chin with the back of her hand.  “Could eat you out for hours.” 

Stevie smiles, dopey and sweet, and giggles.  “You’d kill me.” 

“Yeah,” Billy smiles.  “But it’d be pretty good, right?”