a/n : hey i hope someone likes this. i wrote porn instead of sleeping.
She’s so gentle and discreet about reading his mind that it catches him off guard when she brings up his… perversions.
“Credence, sugar, it’s lots more common than people talk about!” Queenie is still smiling at him. They were alone in her apartment for the afternoon, Tina still at work. A soft jazz number floated through the parlor. It was comforting, like everything about Queenie, from her wand movements to her perfume, but it only reminded him that he didn’t want to pursue her. Credence wanted to revel in her soft sureness, and it made him duck his heating face to stare at his lap.
He could tell by the dip in her voice that she was frowning. “Being aggressive isn’t just for men, so it would be natural for some to not enjoy it, honey.” Even as he absorbed her words and saw the logic in it, Credence’s shame only intensified. He almost wished it was the Obscurus so he could stop humiliating himself, but that half whispered thought had Queenie gasping. “I-I didn’t mean it, Miss Queenie!” he blurted, jerking his head to meet her eyes.
Always driving potential listeners away, stupid boy. Keep your tongue still. If I hear you again today, that’s ten more lashes.
When he surfaced from the visceral memory, Queenie was kneeling in front of his chair, concern etched into every detail of her. “Sugar, I am going to ask you something.” Credence couldn’t help how his shoulders crumpled and his fists tightened in his lap. Of course after such an embarrassing display she would finally discourage his strange infatuation with her.
Queenie clucked her tongue and sighed. “Lotsa men want me, Credence, but they don’t want what I have to give.” She gently reached to cup his jaw, making their eyes meet. “You have needs, Credence. You want to please, but you get all mixed up on how that no matter what you do you think you failed."
Sometime during her quiet assessment, he closed his eyes. Her hands were softer than her spun-gold hair, and Credence could hardly believe she still wants to touch him after seeing all of his unwholesome desires.
"You see, sugar, you’re not the only one with such appetites. Do you know how many people every day wish they could give up control? To trust that they can fall apart?” Queenie’s voice had lowered to a gentle murmur, her other hand reching up to skim his cheekbones. Credence felt like he was on the edge of something unmeasurably tall, like he was toeing the fence guard on Brooklyn Bridge. He wanted to fall into the waves of Queenie’s voice. But he missed what she said next, and that mistake slammed him with panic. Her delicate hands held onto him as he tried to pull away from the siren call of that edge.
He opened his eyes after a few panting breaths. You will never be punished here, Tina’s voice reminded him firmly. You are an adult that needs help, not an errant child.
Not a child, but definitely not a man, he projected miserably. Miss Queenie, I don’t want to hold a woman down, I want to be held. I’ve-I dream of men. Caressing and courting me, being kissed carefully, like I’m-
“Precious, Credence. You want to be treasured.” Queenie shifted closer, reminding Credence that she was kneeling, like she was begging, and that thought curdled his gut. So when she tugged his arm, he slid down the chair to sit with her on the carpet.
“I’m a deviant. I can desire women but I want men. I rebel against God by not-” His flagellation is cut off by a firm hand. Queenie looked at Credence like she could see his soul.
"If you are a deviant for that, so am I.“
His entire body froze, as if trying to amplify his thundering heart. Credence tried to parse any other meaning to her declaration, but odd memories struck him- Miss Queenie, admiring a shopping attendant’s skirt very closely. Leaning on the makeup counter at Macy’s and smiling sharply.
Unbidden, words flew from his mouth. "Do you want the opposite of me?” Good God, Queenie holding him down instead of faceless men, cooing in his ear and, and touching-
He saw her bite her lip, and her gaze changed. Focused like he was the only other person on Earth. “Sugar, you need to tell me, out loud, what you want me to do. Or this stops here.” Her words rang in the parlor, startling Credence.
The thought of, of finding someone else like him, that mirrored his own wants, and then stopping? In a moment of clarity, Credence knew he would never initiate anything else if he backed away. So he leaned forward and kissed Queenie on her beautiful lips.
Credence had seen couples before, at night when walking home to the church. He had only a bit of practice with a street boy that stole his two day old bread out of his pocket during it.
Queenie giggled breathily, then moaned. He was surprised enough by the sound that he drew back. She copied his action, but moved to brace her arms behind her in a seductive lounge. “Aw, thanks.” Queenie dimpled. “But you still gotta tell me what’s what.” She cocked her head so the line of her pale throat was on display.
“IwantyoutopinmedownandkissmeonlyifyouwanttosorryMissQueenie.” Credence rushed out in one breath. Gulping as her dimples deepened and her eyes flashed, Queenie purred, “Sugar, I wouldn’t want anything else.”
- Indeterminate Timeskip! -
Credence flexed his arms and hips, gingerly testing the soft bonds. Madame had blindfolded him at the table after dessert, leading him carefully to the bedroom, undressing him all the while. When they didn’t give in the slightest, he struggled a bit harder, tugging, feeling the sting at his wrists and ankles.
“Baby.” Madame’s disappointed tone had him apologizing, but he was shushed. “I told you no pain tonight. But then I walk in and you’re disobeying me.” He let out a small whimper, knowing she would take pity on him.
"Oh, did my baby just get antsy? Shoulda Conjured up something to keep you occupied.“ Indeed, Madame had been gone for longer than Credence had expected.
She began walking from the doorway, voice stopping by her vanity. "Even so, you know what was expected. No immediate rewards for impatient boys.” He flushed with the rush of blood that pounded through him.
Oh, it would be that tonight. Credence would have to earn his release.
A manicured nail rain across his sternum, trailing off at his navel. That small touch had him filling out further, magnified by Madame’s happy hum. Just as his erection started to drain, those same nails pinched his nipple, waiting until he gasped before giving the other side the same treatment.
“Now, we are gonna play a game. You, baby, are going to plump up your lovely cock before I touch you again. You will have ten seconds to come from my hand on you.” Her voice was light, tone soothing him before the words sunk in. Credence huffed, not even attempting to stop the pout forming on his lips.
“Madame, can you talk to me?” He pleaded, starting to rub his thighs together.
“What a clever boy,” she sing-songed. “Found me right out of the gate. Alright, sugar. What do you want to hear? The Wren siblings were having another spat right in the office today.” Credence heard her settle onto the creaky vanity chair.
He shook his head quickly. “Wanna hear what the man you work with wants to do to me, you said yesterday he was-was touching himself.” Stumbling over words wasn’t punishable, but it didn’t help his effort to get as hard as possible.
Madame’s sultry chuckle, however, did wonders. “Oh, your secret admirer. I have only teased you about it, haven’t I? Never gave you anything juicy about him."
Credence heard the click of her nails as she thoughtfully drummed them. "Well, he usually starts by being frustrated, you know? Hasn’t had a good boy like you spread out on his bed in a long time. He can tell. From the way you obey me so well when you come to work. He’s especially jealous of the way you always look to me before doing so much as answering a question. And how attentive you are to me, almost waiting on hand and foot.” Madame’s voice curled into a smile when he begins rocking against the air.
"Remember last week, when you ran lunch to me and Teenie? He saw you lean over to pick up the papers I swept down there. That’s what he was imagining yesterday. He wanted to tell you to bend yourself over Teenie’s desk and demonstrate what I taught you. He’s mostly right about that, too. How you’re such a needy thing that you can’t go a day without something in your mouth. He wanted a show, baby. What show would you have given him?“
Credence moaned, back arching as he envisioned the stranger’s fantasy. "I plugged my hole before I went, Madame, like you said. I woulda been a good boy and bent over. Waited until you said to slip off my pants, show him that I was ready.” His legs curled up so his feet were flat on the bed. Erection filling enough to raise, Credence tried to bring his thighs together for friction, but the scarves stopped him. He thrashed sulkily, humping into the air without rhythm now.
“Baby. You said a show.” Madame reminded him, amused. He scraped his lip with his teeth and sighed, relaxing into the bed. Credence drew the soles of his feet together, sighing again from the stretch of his thighs. Beginning to circle his hips, Madame rewarded him with more information.
“Good, baby. But the thing that makes this stranger interesting, is that he wants you to open him up.” Credence stilled, eyes flying open from under the blindfold. Even when they were Queenie and Credence, not Madame and Baby, he was always submissive. A thrill ran from his spine to his erection as he imagined it. An older, handsome man looking at him with hooded eyes, begging Credence to give him his cock.
He could feel himself swelling further, and adjusted the roll of his hips. Would it be like when Queenie wanted him to bring her to release with just him, a steady beat with lingering hands? Or would it be like when Madame attached a phallus to her and told her baby to fuck himself silly?
God, this man shoving him on a desk in MACUSA and riding him like he had arrived there to give him this, fuck, not letting him finish, the cool ring Madame uses helping him serve the stranger. Madame watching, pleased, showing off her toy and letting others play, Credence laid flat as he’s straddled so one could use his mouth, slip into his ready hole, rough men with rougher hands who needed a whore to use-
"Madame!“ He wailed, hips snapping in a sloppy rhythm. Her hand was cupped around him a second before he came, tears escaping his eyes. His cock pulsed, Madame pulling his spend out of him. But even as he began to soften, she continued.
Credence whimpered, trying to angle his hips away to no avail. "What a big mess. You followed orders so well, but you forgot your purpose, baby.” Madame was whispering, and he could barely hear her over the roar of blood in his ears. His cock throbbed painfully even as it rethickened.
Credence sobbed, feet kicking out as his legs were freed from their restraints. “M-Ma-Madame,” he cried. She swiftly threw a leg over his squirming core, using his momentum to force him to sink into her wet heat. His arousal sharpened inside of him, expanding like lightening through his groin.
Madame pushed her weight onto his shoulders, knees digging into his sides as he fucked into her. He felt his tears slip down his nose as she raked her nails down his chest, her harsh breathing timed to his wild thrusts.
"C'mon, my pretty baby,“ Madame growled. "Fuck me like you would fuck your little beau.” She then settled her full weight on him, grinding hard into him.
Credence felt something rise up in him, unchained by his pained arousal. The scarves binding his arms fell away at the same time the blindfold did. He uses Madame’s surprise to buck off of the bed, gripping her waist to haul her along to the wall.
“I would fuck him like you taught me to fuck a whore,” he snarled, her walls tightening in climax as he bit into her lovely throat. Credence slammed into her as he joined her.
They both wobbled to the floor seconds later, Queenie nuzzling into his chest. He pulled the comforter from underneath the bed over them as they settled. Credence touched the vivid bite mark, concerned.
His lover smiled mischievously at him and winked. “Mercy Lewis, and I thought planning play time would be a bore.”
Re: Anyone/Credence - BDSM
She’s so gentle and discreet about reading his mind that it catches him off guard when she brings up his… perversions.
“Credence, sugar, it’s lots more common than people talk about!” Queenie is still smiling at him. They were alone in her apartment for the afternoon, Tina still at work. A soft jazz number floated through the parlor. It was comforting, like everything about Queenie, from her wand movements to her perfume, but it only reminded him that he didn’t want to pursue her. Credence wanted to revel in her soft sureness, and it made him duck his heating face to stare at his lap.
He could tell by the dip in her voice that she was frowning. “Being aggressive isn’t just for men, so it would be natural for some to not enjoy it, honey.” Even as he absorbed her words and saw the logic in it, Credence’s shame only intensified. He almost wished it was the Obscurus so he could stop humiliating himself, but that half whispered thought had Queenie gasping. “I-I didn’t mean it, Miss Queenie!” he blurted, jerking his head to meet her eyes.
Always driving potential listeners away, stupid boy. Keep your tongue still. If I hear you again today, that’s ten more lashes.
When he surfaced from the visceral memory, Queenie was kneeling in front of his chair, concern etched into every detail of her. “Sugar, I am going to ask you something.” Credence couldn’t help how his shoulders crumpled and his fists tightened in his lap. Of course after such an embarrassing display she would finally discourage his strange infatuation with her.
Queenie clucked her tongue and sighed. “Lotsa men want me, Credence, but they don’t want what I have to give.” She gently reached to cup his jaw, making their eyes meet. “You have needs, Credence. You want to please, but you get all mixed up on how that no matter what you do you think you failed."
Sometime during her quiet assessment, he closed his eyes. Her hands were softer than her spun-gold hair, and Credence could hardly believe she still wants to touch him after seeing all of his unwholesome desires.
"You see, sugar, you’re not the only one with such appetites. Do you know how many people every day wish they could give up control? To trust that they can fall apart?” Queenie’s voice had lowered to a gentle murmur, her other hand reching up to skim his cheekbones. Credence felt like he was on the edge of something unmeasurably tall, like he was toeing the fence guard on Brooklyn Bridge. He wanted to fall into the waves of Queenie’s voice. But he missed what she said next, and that mistake slammed him with panic. Her delicate hands held onto him as he tried to pull away from the siren call of that edge.
He opened his eyes after a few panting breaths. You will never be punished here, Tina’s voice reminded him firmly. You are an adult that needs help, not an errant child.
Not a child, but definitely not a man, he projected miserably. Miss Queenie, I don’t want to hold a woman down, I want to be held. I’ve-I dream of men. Caressing and courting me, being kissed carefully, like I’m-
“Precious, Credence. You want to be treasured.” Queenie shifted closer, reminding Credence that she was kneeling, like she was begging, and that thought curdled his gut. So when she tugged his arm, he slid down the chair to sit with her on the carpet.
“I’m a deviant. I can desire women but I want men. I rebel against God by not-” His flagellation is cut off by a firm hand. Queenie looked at Credence like she could see his soul.
"If you are a deviant for that, so am I.“
His entire body froze, as if trying to amplify his thundering heart. Credence tried to parse any other meaning to her declaration, but odd memories struck him- Miss Queenie, admiring a shopping attendant’s skirt very closely. Leaning on the makeup counter at Macy’s and smiling sharply.
Unbidden, words flew from his mouth. "Do you want the opposite of me?” Good God, Queenie holding him down instead of faceless men, cooing in his ear and, and touching-
He saw her bite her lip, and her gaze changed. Focused like he was the only other person on Earth. “Sugar, you need to tell me, out loud, what you want me to do. Or this stops here.” Her words rang in the parlor, startling Credence.
The thought of, of finding someone else like him, that mirrored his own wants, and then stopping? In a moment of clarity, Credence knew he would never initiate anything else if he backed away. So he leaned forward and kissed Queenie on her beautiful lips.
Credence had seen couples before, at night when walking home to the church. He had only a bit of practice with a street boy that stole his two day old bread out of his pocket during it.
Queenie giggled breathily, then moaned. He was surprised enough by the sound that he drew back. She copied his action, but moved to brace her arms behind her in a seductive lounge. “Aw, thanks.” Queenie dimpled. “But you still gotta tell me what’s what.” She cocked her head so the line of her pale throat was on display.
“IwantyoutopinmedownandkissmeonlyifyouwanttosorryMissQueenie.” Credence rushed out in one breath. Gulping as her dimples deepened and her eyes flashed, Queenie purred, “Sugar, I wouldn’t want anything else.”
- Indeterminate Timeskip! -
Credence flexed his arms and hips, gingerly testing the soft bonds. Madame had blindfolded him at the table after dessert, leading him carefully to the bedroom, undressing him all the while. When they didn’t give in the slightest, he struggled a bit harder, tugging, feeling the sting at his wrists and ankles.
“Baby.” Madame’s disappointed tone had him apologizing, but he was shushed. “I told you no pain tonight. But then I walk in and you’re disobeying me.” He let out a small whimper, knowing she would take pity on him.
"Oh, did my baby just get antsy? Shoulda Conjured up something to keep you occupied.“ Indeed, Madame had been gone for longer than Credence had expected.
She began walking from the doorway, voice stopping by her vanity. "Even so, you know what was expected. No immediate rewards for impatient boys.” He flushed with the rush of blood that pounded through him.
Oh, it would be that tonight. Credence would have to earn his release.
A manicured nail rain across his sternum, trailing off at his navel. That small touch had him filling out further, magnified by Madame’s happy hum. Just as his erection started to drain, those same nails pinched his nipple, waiting until he gasped before giving the other side the same treatment.
“Now, we are gonna play a game. You, baby, are going to plump up your lovely cock before I touch you again. You will have ten seconds to come from my hand on you.” Her voice was light, tone soothing him before the words sunk in. Credence huffed, not even attempting to stop the pout forming on his lips.
“Madame, can you talk to me?” He pleaded, starting to rub his thighs together.
“What a clever boy,” she sing-songed. “Found me right out of the gate. Alright, sugar. What do you want to hear? The Wren siblings were having another spat right in the office today.” Credence heard her settle onto the creaky vanity chair.
He shook his head quickly. “Wanna hear what the man you work with wants to do to me, you said yesterday he was-was touching himself.” Stumbling over words wasn’t punishable, but it didn’t help his effort to get as hard as possible.
Madame’s sultry chuckle, however, did wonders. “Oh, your secret admirer. I have only teased you about it, haven’t I? Never gave you anything juicy about him."
Credence heard the click of her nails as she thoughtfully drummed them. "Well, he usually starts by being frustrated, you know? Hasn’t had a good boy like you spread out on his bed in a long time. He can tell. From the way you obey me so well when you come to work. He’s especially jealous of the way you always look to me before doing so much as answering a question. And how attentive you are to me, almost waiting on hand and foot.” Madame’s voice curled into a smile when he begins rocking against the air.
"Remember last week, when you ran lunch to me and Teenie? He saw you lean over to pick up the papers I swept down there. That’s what he was imagining yesterday. He wanted to tell you to bend yourself over Teenie’s desk and demonstrate what I taught you. He’s mostly right about that, too. How you’re such a needy thing that you can’t go a day without something in your mouth. He wanted a show, baby. What show would you have given him?“
Credence moaned, back arching as he envisioned the stranger’s fantasy. "I plugged my hole before I went, Madame, like you said. I woulda been a good boy and bent over. Waited until you said to slip off my pants, show him that I was ready.” His legs curled up so his feet were flat on the bed. Erection filling enough to raise, Credence tried to bring his thighs together for friction, but the scarves stopped him. He thrashed sulkily, humping into the air without rhythm now.
“Baby. You said a show.” Madame reminded him, amused. He scraped his lip with his teeth and sighed, relaxing into the bed. Credence drew the soles of his feet together, sighing again from the stretch of his thighs. Beginning to circle his hips, Madame rewarded him with more information.
“Good, baby. But the thing that makes this stranger interesting, is that he wants you to open him up.” Credence stilled, eyes flying open from under the blindfold. Even when they were Queenie and Credence, not Madame and Baby, he was always submissive. A thrill ran from his spine to his erection as he imagined it. An older, handsome man looking at him with hooded eyes, begging Credence to give him his cock.
He could feel himself swelling further, and adjusted the roll of his hips. Would it be like when Queenie wanted him to bring her to release with just him, a steady beat with lingering hands? Or would it be like when Madame attached a phallus to her and told her baby to fuck himself silly?
God, this man shoving him on a desk in MACUSA and riding him like he had arrived there to give him this, fuck, not letting him finish, the cool ring Madame uses helping him serve the stranger. Madame watching, pleased, showing off her toy and letting others play, Credence laid flat as he’s straddled so one could use his mouth, slip into his ready hole, rough men with rougher hands who needed a whore to use-
"Madame!“ He wailed, hips snapping in a sloppy rhythm. Her hand was cupped around him a second before he came, tears escaping his eyes. His cock pulsed, Madame pulling his spend out of him. But even as he began to soften, she continued.
Credence whimpered, trying to angle his hips away to no avail. "What a big mess. You followed orders so well, but you forgot your purpose, baby.” Madame was whispering, and he could barely hear her over the roar of blood in his ears. His cock throbbed painfully even as it rethickened.
Credence sobbed, feet kicking out as his legs were freed from their restraints. “M-Ma-Madame,” he cried. She swiftly threw a leg over his squirming core, using his momentum to force him to sink into her wet heat. His arousal sharpened inside of him, expanding like lightening through his groin.
Madame pushed her weight onto his shoulders, knees digging into his sides as he fucked into her. He felt his tears slip down his nose as she raked her nails down his chest, her harsh breathing timed to his wild thrusts.
"C'mon, my pretty baby,“ Madame growled. "Fuck me like you would fuck your little beau.” She then settled her full weight on him, grinding hard into him.
Credence felt something rise up in him, unchained by his pained arousal. The scarves binding his arms fell away at the same time the blindfold did. He uses Madame’s surprise to buck off of the bed, gripping her waist to haul her along to the wall.
“I would fuck him like you taught me to fuck a whore,” he snarled, her walls tightening in climax as he bit into her lovely throat. Credence slammed into her as he joined her.
They both wobbled to the floor seconds later, Queenie nuzzling into his chest. He pulled the comforter from underneath the bed over them as they settled. Credence touched the vivid bite mark, concerned.
His lover smiled mischievously at him and winked. “Mercy Lewis, and I thought planning play time would be a bore.”