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#i think there’s something like this already in my blog somewhere
cod-dump · 3 months
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Soap is chatty, he talks a lot. More than once someone has told him they ‘learned to tune him out’, that they’re able to ignore him because they’re used to his chatter. It hurts, he admits that to himself but no one else. He’s not used to someone fully paying attention to what he’s saying (Gaz) or actually loving hearing him talk even though they’re not fully understanding everything he’s saying (Ghost).
He was talking while working with Price in a meeting room when he realized he had been talking a lot, so he stopped. Then Price looked up and asked him why he stopped.
“What?”
“The party at your cousin’s, with the weird green cake.”
Gaz and Price fully listens while he talks, taking a moment to ask questions or acknowledge when he says something. Ghost half listens and just enjoys hearing Soap talk even when he’s not mentally there, asking questions to keep Soap talking because he loves his voice. It was almost overwhelming having that acceptance and care towards him.
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roobylavender · 6 months
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you know what would automatically change my hatred to love for sasusaku? If their genders were reversed. Majority of the reason why I hate sasuke and sakura relationship is because the type of environment and the culture I grew up in where it's been fed to women since basically birth to always be faithful to her man no matter how terrible he treats her, even after marriage. The pharse, "Just be patient and he will change", infuriates me to another level. Seeing sakura chasing after sasuke throughout the series after numerous rejections and an attempted MURDER on her by him made me roll my eyes so hard like girl just move the fuck on omfg. And even after their "marriage" sasuke's treatment towards her doesn't get better lmao, leaving her alone with a whole ass child to take care by herself?? BYE sakura's patience for him is outmatch cus I would've divorced his ass for that. Though, the more I mature, little by little I begin to understand the complexity of their relationship after putting my gender issues aside for a second and look deep into them. And especially now, after reading your perspective on their whole relationship, it really did made half of my hatred go away and understand the relationship wholeheartedly. Like yeah, I absolutely love the trope of one person saying they don't deserve the other person's love but the other person keep loving them anyway, that stuff makes me giggle and swing my legs in the air and shit. It's just that the only way this trope would work for me if the person loving them has enough self-respect for themselves AND if it's a girl in the former & the guy in the latter. And honestly, I found naruto being borderline obsessed with sasuke annoying too but the reason why I can digest it more well is because naruto can go head to head with sasuke without backing down. Like, I wanted to see at least ONCE sakura having a heated argument with sasuke, or punch him in the face in the series. I feel like sasuke deserves a punch from her at the very least 🤷🏽‍♀️
Sigh, I really did wanna love their relationship and their journey to love (that scene of him catching her when she was about to fall and then having that iconic eye contact had me feeling butterflies ngl) since it has all the tropes I love but the execution is just so...
i mean if it helps any i absolutely hate post-canon and that's where my primary divide with most sasusaku fans lies 😭 i'm not sure if you read the blue-plums post i reblogged but it's a good dissection of why exactly it fails as a conclusion to both their individual arcs and their relationship arc generally. the post-canon we see is a direct answer to what sasuke's and sakura's dreams are at the start of the series, but the problem with this is that sasuke and sakura are nowhere near being the same people at the end of the series as they were at the start. generally, i don't think post-canon really takes the individual arc of any character into much account. its primary goal is maintaining the status quo with a slight veneer of friendship power draped over it for aesthetics. but nothing at the root is changed despite every traumatic development the characters were relentlessly subjected to. resultantly, you're left with a portrayal of sasuke as a neglectful father who glorifies the lone-wolf hero trope, which goes against everything he could possibly have learned from itachi; and you're left with a portrayal of sakura as someone content to keep house despite the bulk of her character arc being grounded in her ability and desire to take initiative not only at home, but abroad. it's not true to who either of them is by that point and, even more than that, it's a disservice to everything they've put themselves through for the sake of the love they were vying for. so while i love sasusaku as it progresses up through 699, i tend to wholeheartedly ignore whatever comes after and relegate that instead to either my own imagination or blue-plums's in her fics
what i will say about the naruto and sakura distinction is that a lot of people are more comfortable with how sasuke reacts to naruto bc they believe what naruto is doing is right. it's kind of like: if the only thing sasuke will realistically respond to is violence then obv naruto can resort to that violence without dwelling on it too much. but if you think about violence in the context of sasuke's entire life, it's not actually helpful at all beyond its ability to physically bring him to a grinding halt. even when naruto finally breaks through to sasuke, it's not the violence that makes things click for him. it's the words he says after, and it's the words he's always said before that that have stayed in sasuke's mind. violence, in contrast, is a poisonous thing for sasuke bc it's the only thing that has defined the parameters of his entire life. it robbed him of every person he cared about prior to his meeting team seven, and inevitably it intimidated him into seeking out more violence once he realized that he was incapable of saving the new people he'd come to care about as well. everything, at the root, was driven by sasuke's traumatically-exacerbated response to love and loss. the idea of losing naruto and sakura to the hands of anyone else was unbearable. so he decided that he'd rather have killed them himself. it was absolutely irrational. but a twelve year old child put through that kind of successive, relentless trauma was never going to think rationally, and certainly not after being exploited by people like orochimaru and obito (and to an extent itachi) in turn
all of this to say: there is of course a gendered aspect to the fact that sakura's response to sasuke is markedly not violence. but i also think people sort of refuse to dissect her response any further and esp in context of the narrative itself. despite being the hallmark of rationality within the team and perhaps even the series, sakura was inevitably always driven by the value she placed on humanity. it would've been so easy and rational and "right" to kill sasuke bc he was an insurgent, a terrorist, a danger to public safety, etc. but sakura knew it was more complicated than that. even without knowing about the intricacies of the uchiha massacre she'd been a witness to his suffering and struggle and helplessness. she was as much unable to kill him bc of her love for him as she was unable to kill him bc she knew it wouldn't be right. bc really, what would it solve. sasuke being written off or dying would accomplish nothing bc he would become one more person in the long line of victims to nationalism and the military-industrial complex. while naruto's desire to retrieve sasuke was driven by his love for him it was also driven by the fact that he was stubborn and relentless and refused to give up on people. if you won't believe in yourself i'll beat the belief into you. it's a very shounen-esque trait. in contrast, sakura's desire to retrieve sakura, while also driven by her love for him, was significantly driven by her ability to see that sasuke needed help. in fact, that's all she ever wanted him to get: help. and it would be one thing for this to be an isolated desire but when you read it in context of her own goals as a medic and a mental health professional, her unwavering belief in sasuke is a lot more striking. she was the only person in the entire narrative who never resorted to violence as a solution to sasuke's problems. and she was angry, to be sure. much as she loves him the struggle to bring him back and convince him that he was worthy of love and healing left her emotionally exhausted. but they're also children at the end of the day. she could've been angry at him, or naruto could've been angry him, and in the end none of it would've mattered in the face of knowing they'd finally gotten through to him. he had a smile on his face, he didn't have an arm anymore, and for the first time in his life he met a loss with utter peace and content. it was a thing of miracles after six years of relentless grief and sorrow, and nothing else could've been on their mind.
at the end of the day, team seven's love for sasuke isn't rational. the farthest thing from it, really. but that's what makes it so radical in context. if love in naruto was only ever meant to be rational then hardly anyone would survive. love was always written as an act of defiance and for however subtle the depiction sakura exemplified it
#this is already so long i won't ramble any further in the text bc i've gotten across my point#but tldr you're totally valid! like honestly a lot of sasusaku fans tend to take the full scope of post-canon as gospel and it's infuriatin#and it definitely panders to a lot of gendered stereotypes#the relationship is i think way easier to digest if you isolate 1-699 and then pretend none of the rest exists lol#me personally i want sasuke to go on travels and meet lots of orphans and dedicate himself to humanitarian work#and i want sakura to do her mental hospital thing and research and advocacy at the village#before the projects she works on inevitably extend to intervillage endeavors#it's a nice way for both her and sasuke to explore their respective itches while also doing something that overlaps#with what the other person is doing. i am also a gazillion times more inclined towards them adopting an orphan#than i am towards the idea of them getting traditional married and having a traditional family and birthing traditional babies. boh-ring#i have a post somewhere on my old blog but to Me it would be revolutionary for sasuke to separate himself from the idea that the#only real bonds are those borne in blood. bc all that matters is love. i think adoption would be a really good personification of that idea#also occasionally they can come back to konoha and do silly couple things. like go to the farmers market and plant flowers#and harvest tomatoes. househusband sasuke and workaholic sakura. my dream combination truly#outbox
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musical-chick-13 · 4 months
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HOW DOES ANYONE EVER FINISH A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC
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surreal-duck · 2 years
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absolutely love reading tags on my art and i adore each and every single nice thing anyone has ever left on them whether its an “aww nice” a keysmash or an analysis that spans three or more tags but this takes the cake for one of my all time favorites
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decolonize-the-left · 1 month
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I saw your post about the leopards eating faces and democrats and if you think the us is bad under biden have a good look through project 2025 and please fucking realize that queer people, those that can get pregnant, and people of color are going to be absolutely fucked if trump wins in November.
Sigh
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If you ACTUALLY read it then you'd know Biden is ALREADY carrying out the goals outlined in project2025. You'd also know that his administration is even using the SAME exact language that's found in the Mandate for Leadership. Such as "protecting the freedom of navigation in the Suez Canal"
I literally have a post floating around somewhere where I said he was gonna escalate the genocide and smoke out all the rebel groups because guess what? Project2025 outlined that too. Literally listed them as targets that the administration should focus on.
Another part of it says they should continue to protect and support Israel's "right to defend itself" at any cost.
So yeah that thing you're afraid of? It's here. And it's here because you thought the fascist with a blue tie was less scary than a fascist than a red tie so you stopped paying attention when Blue Tie Man was around. And that blue Fascism that's allowing book bans and abortion bans and making trans people illegal is going to stay here and grow because you don't fucking care to address it unless the tie is red.
Maybe fucking read the thing you're trying to fearmonger me about because I guarantee I've read more of it than you.
And it's not that I find the realities in it less scary, it's that I'm not such a privileged shithead that I would prioritize my own comfort over lives being lost in a literal fucking genocide.
Yeah shit sucks for queer people and trans people and trust me, I know that, but we aren't being killed in broad fucking daylight and having people go into denial about it so maybe instead of barking up MY blog about how fucked up everything is you go and send the DNC and your representatives some emails and tell them to give Democrats a candidate that doesnt commit genocide?
How about instead of yelling at me to lower my standards cuz things MIGHT get scarier for you if Blue Tie Man doesn't beat trump (and he won't) you ACCEPT that reality and DO SOMETHING USEFUL about it. How about you and your party just BE BETTER????
There's seven months before the elections and Biden is tanking every poll and Democrats are voting uncommited in swing states and what's Biden doing? Doubling down on every single policy that he's losing voters over (like supporting Israel). If he loses that's not my fault or anyone else's.
Maybe stop asking people to vote for a warmongering white supremacist.
"think of the queers and pregnant people and PoC"
I Am.
They live in Palestine and Sudan and the DRC.
Or did you mean I should prioritize different queers and pregnant people and PoC?
Don't be shy. Did you mean I should prioritize you?
Cuz yeah. Fuck that.
(white) USamerican citizens prioritizing ourselves over everyone else is exactly how the world got so fucked up.
I'm NOT voting for Biden under any fucking circumstances, don't waste my time with another bullshit uninformed scare mongering ask like this again just cuz YOU lack the solidarity to care about any community but your own.
The fuck?
Do you think the queer community only counts Americans? What an ignorant thing to say. "Think of minority communites but only from this specific part of the world"
You wouldn't know community if it hit you in the fucking face.
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ithebookhoarder · 6 months
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Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 
A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅
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Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans 
Masterlist
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There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.
They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.
Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.
Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.
Then Eloise had come along.
As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.
Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.
Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.
So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.
“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”
It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.
You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.
She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.
“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”
“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”
“Traitor.”
“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”
“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”
“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”
“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”
“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”
“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”
“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers  example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”
“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”
The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”
The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”
“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”
“I told you.”
“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”
“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.
If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.
“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”
“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”
“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”
“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”
“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”
“Oh … joy.”
“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”
“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”
“How about… truth or dare?”
Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“
“But Benedict-“
“What’s truth or dare?”
Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.
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Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.
By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.
Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)
You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.
You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.
That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.  
Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.
“Now that… was fun.”
“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”
“Told you it was a good idea.”
You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.
“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”
“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”
“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”
Benedict’s jaw dropped.
“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.
“I have my sources.”
Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.
“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”
With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.
And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.
How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.  
“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”
You all froze.
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It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.
“Oh, darling. You’re home?”
“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”
“I went for a swim.”
“A - you went for a -“
“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”
Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.
In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.
You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.
“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”
“What game?”
“Pardon?”
“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”
No one moved.
No one even breathed.
It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.
“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”
“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”
Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.
“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.
The silence was instantaneous. 
No one dared to say another word, let alone move. 
You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits. 
If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night. 
It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from. 
“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.” 
A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities. 
It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process. 
You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return. 
Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle. 
You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan. 
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances. 
“Is that so?”
Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”
Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.” 
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Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal. 
In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency. 
Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.
If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach. 
You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again. 
You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down. 
Hard.
“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.” 
“Oh?” you croaked. 
You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then. 
Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.
“Is he still there?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...” 
You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...
With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach. 
To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.  
“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?” 
“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”
“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.” 
“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”
“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”
You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong. 
However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning. 
You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on. 
Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators. 
In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother. 
“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”
“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”
Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.” 
“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?” 
“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”
“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you. 
You remembered what you’d forgotten. 
The chair.
“Anthony, wait-!”
The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him. 
No one moved. 
No one said a word. 
Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”
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Hi! Can i ask for a self aware twst when the reader surprises adopted Silver as their son. Like just pointing at him and saying 'you are my child now' with Silver, Lilia and Sebek. Hope you have a good day!
Hehe. Anon, you know what you are doing. In fact, I would say you even want the chaos. And for that I love you come here so I can hug you.
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Diasomnia chapter spoilers (Lilias part, maybe Sebek), religion, violence, isolation, kidnapping, obsessive behavior
Lilia Vanrouge/(Platonic) Silver/Sebek Zigvolt-Adopting Silver
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Oh ok. Cool cool coolcoolcoolcoolcool
Well, at least that one room dedicated to you in the form of an altar can now be used for more practical uses (finally)
When Lilia heard you say those words and point at his son, he fell from the chandelier he was dangling from
Not only did he have to navigate through not accidentally telling his son that he was the blood related son of an enemy general and that exactly this general killed Malleus mom
But also that he had now a second parent that also happened to be god
Mhm totally normal
Conversations to strangers about his family were already playing out like this in his head:
Hi, I am Lilia Vanrouge, yes the one in your history book, this is my son Silver, yes he looks like a certain knight, and my lovely partner and also parent of this lovely human, yes, FU**ING GOD THEMSELVES
Ah yes, sitting in church will totally not be awkward after this
Bro legit sits you down with a pen and paper, asking you to sign the marriage certificate
Asks you what flowers you want to have on your wedding. Doesn't matter if you are a woman, man or identify as something else, he is planning that
Also has already planned out how to get you into the Valley of Thorns without anyone noticing
Because no matter how devoted he is to you, he will always be too greedy to share your attention with someone else
You could have said this as a joke or some other protective instinct towards the silver-haired male but all that man's father hears is a marriage proposal
Lilia is just happy that you feel some sort of positive way to his family member (makes things easier when you are stuck in that cabin)
I mean, he did see Silver as a present from you, a child meant to bring him back to the light after being so long in the shadow of war
And now the three of you were together! How lovely!
Which would mean that you planned this all along. Dear Overseer, if you liked the idea of you being a family you could have just told him so
He will be the best partner to raise a child together you could dream of
And should someone dare to interrupt the perfect, peaceful life you three (plus two more) had, he wouldn't mind swinging that sword again
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Wait what?
What do you mean with that?
Are you sure you want him to be your son? Really?
Apparently he was not the only one surprised since he could hear the thud of his father falling to the ground behind him and Seek screaming somewhere behind him
Be prepared for a silver haired knight to look at you with the biggest puppy eyes and ask "Do you really want me as you son?"
Critical hit! Someone call a doctor. I think the Valley of Thorns god can be killed by cuteness
After that he is glued to your side (even though you have to part sooner or later since he is not living in Ramshackle)
One morning you woke up to the guy standing there with some food being like "I made some food."
Like where the Heck did he even get the keys for the dorm? (He broke in through a hole in the ceiling)
Silver always comes running to you whenever he does something and wants praises
Once he was best in one of his classes and he stood there with the report like he could turn into a dog and get headpats from you any second
But, as I am sure you are aware of, this is a blog with yandere themes and we have to say goodbye to the fluff at some point
That sword training comes in handy is all I'm saying
I mean, he has probably enough strength to break someone's leg with his bare hands by simply applying some pressure
And that one Diasomnia student that tried to take his son-status away from him was found again in a not-so-compatible-state-with-life kind of situation
I'm letting you imagine what happened
Like Lilia he is ready to burn everyone who dares to interfere with your little family
The forests of his homeland are pretty though so no need to worry about the appearance of your surroundings once they bring you to your new home (who needs social interaction anyways?)
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A second of silence
And then the screaming started
“OH HOW KIND OF OUR OVERSEER! TO SHOW A MORTAL THEIR KINDNESS AND CARING SIDE!”
Seek would be lying if he said that he wasn't surprised
You, aka the Overseer, aka some higher being, AKA GOD, were known in the Valley of Thorns to be kind and caring, yet also distant and never approaching others directly
But then you literally adopt someone, making that person someone in your inner cycle?
Well, if Sebek knew one thing then that those Priests were going to have a crisis as soon as they learned about this
Totally not jealous
He would try to get closer to you since, apparently, you did allow others to get close to you
But he was happy as long as you were
After all, he was now the (not-so-official appointed) shield of the Valley of Thorns, something he got passed on by his grandfather
So of course he couldn't be family with you
That didn't mean he couldn't “help” you
Someone intruded on that dinner you had with Lilia and Silver?
Ouch… that punch must have hurt
Whenever Silver or his Father had to interfere because someone else came too close then they were some incredibly slick (looking at you Rook) or lucky person
Don't let his loud mouth fool you
This crocodile has done unmentionables in your name in order to make things easier for your new found family
For what? Oh you know, becoming his neighbor back home… forever
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ohcaptains · 1 year
Text
abby love spell
pairing. abby anderson x f!reader
synopsis. abby’s been handsy all damn day. can’t even take her hands off of you on patrol, where she should be focusing on something far more important...like staying alive. naively, you think watching a movie will distract her. it’s no use, really.
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an. anyway slay. this is based off of this request that someone sent years, nay, millennia ago. what can i say, i was busy procrastinating writing and focusing on playing the game. again. pls enjoy, comment and reblog, etc. it makes the gay thoughts stronger<3 (not showing in tags so reblogs appreciated)
warnings. 18+. please do not read or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. hand on throat (no choking), house wife kink, f!receiving penetration, strap on sex, lots of description of spit because i’m insane. references to oral, but no description. soz. maybe next time champ. 
Something was up with Abby. 
She’d always been an affectionate girlfriend, but today, she was stuck to you like glue. The pair of you, alongside Manny and Nora, had left for patrol in the morning. You had been busy making sure the truck was stocked, while Abby was busy trying to find a way to keep her hands on you at all times. 
You were bent over the crates, checking and re-checking the contents, when her hands had slid onto your hips, thumbs looping into the belt buckles. 
You went to flinch, hand coming out to grab hers, but you felt the familiar scabs on her knuckles. The familiar bumps of her veins – the map you knew off by heart.
“Hi Abby,” you sang, patting the back of her hand. Her chest pushed against your back, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Whatcha doing?” she asked, fully aware of what you were doing. 
You answered her though – anything to keep her locked against you like this. There were a couple of layers of fabric between you, but you could still feel the heat radiating off of her.
“Packing the guns.”
Abby hummed, then grabbed at your hip, using it to twist you to face her. You grunted an oft! grabbing the lapels of her jacket to stabilise yourself.
“Shit – Abby,” you scorned, but she ignored you. Instead, she flexed her arms, and you couldn’t see the lines of muscles due to her jacket, but the bulge of her biceps was there all the same.
“Already got 'em, look,” she grinned, wiggling her brows, and you patted her chest, an amused frown on your face.
“What is with you?” you asked, smoothing out her jacket. “Ben put a little something extra in your porridge this morning?”
“I’m just my regular, goofy ol’ self – what do you mean?”
Her blue gaze flicked to your top, visible from underneath your open jacket.
“That’s my top,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Oh yeah – sorry,” you quickly spoke, glancing down at it, and thus not noticing the tick in Abby’s jaw. She always loved you in her clothes. Loved the way they draped over you – especially the jagged arm holes she cut into them. 
The fabric would always hang loose at your sides, and she’d spend all day glimpsing at the drag of it over your chest. “Lights went out in the East block when you were at the gym. Had to get dressed in the dark—” you’re cut off, the surprise of Abby’s head dropping against your chest rendering your vocabulary to just one word, "Abby!”
“Mm,” she hummed, pushing her forehead between your breasts, “smells like me.” “Abby—” you said again, a giggle cracking at your lips. Your hands fumbled for her shoulders, shoving her away, or at least trying to – Abby was dead weight. You admired her strength. Loved it, but it was times like this when it was a hindrance to your mental stability. Finally, she stretched back to her height, shit eating grin on her face. 
You were too busy transfixed on her features, that you didn’t notice her hands coming out to the bottom of your coat. Suddenly, she pulled the zip up to the top, and she knocked your chin up with her knuckle, leaning down to give you a deep kiss.
You went somewhere else for a second, the drag of her tongue knocking reality out of the way. Melted, succumb to her sudden overwhelming taste -- but she pulled away too soon.
“Cold out,” she grinned, hands rubbing at the length of your now-covered chest, and you were too dazed to respond.
It was like that all. Damn. Day.
She never once stopped playing around with you. 
She’d boost you up walls, hands sliding under your thighs in an attempt to push you up. Hand at the bottom of your back to signal you to walk faster, hands on your hips to pull you out of the way. 
Pulling you around like a damn rag doll. 
Nice shot, she’d say, when it was actually pretty average. 
Good girl, she casually praised, after you’d jumped and grabbed her arm, letting her pull you up onto a roof. That one had got you -- had to take a second to gather yourself as she spoke to Manny about which direction you were going.
Got to an abandoned warehouse and she pulled you to the side, sparing a few minutes to kiss you against a stack of boxes.
What’re you doing? You’d asked, and all she said was, kissing my girlfriend.
Now, you’re trying to watch a movie together. 
Or at least, you’re trying to watch a movie – she’s too busy touching you to focus on the plot. 
You’re comfy on your shared bed, resting on her broad chest as you sit between her muscular thighs, and she’s keeping you there by the arm she’s got slung around your front – bicep on your shoulder – as she lazily kisses at your neck.
It’s distracting, to say the least.
“’um trying to watch,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. The movie buzzes at you – an 80’s flick, all electronic beams, and bright colours. It’s about robots, and when Mel had brandished the disk in front of you last month, you’d been eager to have a watch. 
Now, the direction Abby’s mouth is taking is far more interesting. 
She scatters lazy, wet smooches over your neck, pausing before she places another as if she’s painting a picture. The drag of it makes you lethargic — makes you comfy and loose in Abby’s grip.
You want nothing more than to give into her touch. You’ve spent the whole day trying to shove down the overwhelming feeling of desire that she’d been pulling out of you. But you’ve been meaning to watch this movie for months.
No, you tell yourself. Focus. You breathe in, and shake your head, snapping back to the screen.
Abby hums. She’s so warm and soft -- her muscular chest surprisingly comfortable – that it’s lulling you into a sense of submission. You rest back against her, enveloped in her arms. Enveloped in the soft brush of her lips against your throat.
Focus, you repeat to yourself.
Got to give this movie back to Mel tomorrow, she’s been asking for it for weeks. “You can watch,” Abby whispers, brushing her mouth over your ear. The wetness of her lips forces a shiver down your spine. You try and run from it, shuffling in her grip, but Abby keeps you steady – lazily locked against you with her arm slung over your shoulder. “Just let me kiss you,” she breathes, placing a soft, delicate one on your ear lobe. Your eyes flutter again. She smells fresh from the shower. Smells clean, like her soap – pine and mint. Her hair is down too – you love it when her hair is down – and it hangs long, smelling like…strawberries? Your shampoo. Fuck fuck fuck. You shake your head, “can’t focus on the movie when you’re kissing me like that.” Abby smiles against your neck, and you feel it – feel it curve against your skin. “Sounds like a you problem.” “You’re an asshole,” you whisper, and she laughs.
“Just be quiet and watch the movie,” she orders, wide palm rubbing your bare thigh. “Quit whining.”
You grumble, mumbling something under your breath, but you do go quiet, and thankfully, she does slow her kissing. Resorts to nuzzling your neck instead, while her left hand continues to rub at your thigh. 
It is nice, and you manage a couple of minutes of this, relaxing and watching the movie before you feel her hand sliding upwards.
You inhale sharply. Breathe in her scent. Wait for her to slow down. Wait for her to stop. Yet she never does. 
Her long, thick fingers leisurely flutter over your bare skin as her hand inches to where you suddenly want it – God, do you – tantalisingly close to the boxers you’re wearing. Hers. 
Your whole outfit is hers and you swear she’s going to touch you, or at least brush her fingers against you, but she pulls back. Slides her hand away, wide palm retreating to your knee.
Disappointment twangs.
You try not to think about it, but the buzz she’d sparked settles low in your belly.
The film continues with its garish colours and cheesy dialogue. Buzzes and crackles, its movie star taking up the screen for an up-close shot. You swallow down the fluttering of your heart.
She’s still kissing you.
Her lips are wet, exploring. Nose cold as it nuzzles against your ear lobe, breath warm as she breathes, and her tongue darts out, skimming over your throat before she kisses the spit away. You hum, hips pushing again, and Abby palms at your inner thigh.  
“Shhh, baby. Can’t hear the movie with all your whimpering.” The breath of her whisper flutters over your neck, forcing goosebumps to rise to the surface. You roll your eyes back and try and convince yourself that it’s from annoyance rather than pleasure.
Her hand starts again, faster now, smoothing over your skin, not giving you enough time as she just brushes the tips of her fingers over your underwear, and your hand jolts out.
“Abby,” you warn, grabbing it. You intertwine your fingers with hers, stopping it in its tracks — clutching it on your lap, and Abby hums a laugh into your neck.
“Not gonna let me touch you there?” she teases, using the hand you’re holding to rub at your groin. 
You’re betrayed by your own knuckles, the touch forcing your thighs to clench together, and hips to jolt up at the sensation. You hate it. Love it, really. She’s winding you up like a toy. “Abby,” you whisper, conflicted. The tv hisses its dialogue, music singing – a car crashes into a wall, and the antagonist cackles in delight. Who’s the villain again? Abby hums a pleased, “Hm?” into your ear. You don’t know. Just have to spit her name out. Get it out of you, before it’s back, brimming at your lips like an omission of truth. 
She pushes her hand into yours, forcing your knuckles to rut against your crotch again, and fuck, your legs widen an inch, welcoming the feeling and silently begging for more. 
She’s smiling, sickly sweet – you know it. Know her. Know she’s grinning from the gradual win.
You keep a hold of her hand as she rubs it into you, coaxing something warm and tingly to build between your thighs. Your face goes hot. 
You suddenly can’t remember the plot of this movie. Try to come up with something convincing to Mel for when she asks for your review, but your temporal lobe has stopped working. 
All you can think about is the sensation between your thighs, the comforting tickle on your chest from Abby’s hair, and the smell of her – familiar, all-consuming. She runs the tips of her teeth over the flesh of your throat, and “Abs,” you gasp, free hand grabbing onto her forearm. 
Her tongue comes out, soothing the scratch from her teeth and you shift, shocked, hips bucking back against her, legs falling open, and she takes advantage – drops your hand and flattens her palm between your thighs, cupping your clothed pussy.
“Shit,” you gasp, clutching her strong forearm with both hands in surprise.
You can’t believe you’ve let her win.
She’s not even moving, just holding you, but the pressure is enough to force your thighs together, pussy clenching around nothing.
“Um’ gonna break up with you,” you quickly rush, eyes clenching closed. Abby cackles. Says, “Yeah?” “Mm,” you hum, nodding, fidgeting, trying to get her to fucking move. “Okay –“she breathes, stuffing her fingers low, thick of them pressing against you. Your mind goes fizzy. She talks. “--After I make you come though, right?” Your face clenches together, your mouth falling open. “You’re the worst,” you brandish, lying through your teeth. Meaning it wholeheartedly. 
She hushes you, “Shhh, I know,” and watches your facial expressions change – watches you try to self-soothe.
“The worst,” you repeat, voice cracking. Somehow, Abby’s lips get closer to your ear.
“I know baby, but I’ll make it good, promise.”
Her admission forces your eyes open, and you look down at where she’s got you – thick fingers barely pushing against your clothed slit, and God, you have to – have to grind your cunt against her. One slight roll of your hips, up and up, then down, and you huff, curse under your breath because Jesus Christ.
“Or you’ll do it for me.” “Shut up.” “No – do it again.”
You do. With your hands holding the forearm she’s got buckled against your collarbones, you hitch your hips up, and she keeps her hand tense, making it good for you. Makes sure the ball of her palm pushes into your clit, and you sigh. A tremor shoots through your belly.
“Keep doing that,” she mutters, mouth close enough that her words echo through your brain. “I wanna see.” She grabs a fistful of your shirt and drags it up. The cool air hits the soft skin of your belly, but Abby warms you as her arm flattens against it, hefty and comforting. 
You watch her strong arm transfixed. Watch the muscles tick as her hand flexes, the scars on her skin white and shiny in the dull buzz of the TV screen. 
Her fingers rub at your pussy, and your hips move, back arches, grinding against her palm, your breathing hitching and catching. 
She’s barely touching your clit, just brushing it, and the sensation slowly builds, pushing, making you reach down and fumble for her hand, pushing it deeper into you.
“Abs,” you choke, and she groans. Nods against your neck and admits, “wanted to fuck you all day.”
Heat rushes over you, forces you to clench together and pathetically whimper. “Been obsessed with me all day,” you breathe. 
In your cloudy vision, you catch sight of the TV screen, the movie playing out to two people who couldn’t care less. Yet you try and focus, but it’s hard to multitask with her hand between your thighs.
The antagonist is being arrested, and you have no fucking clue as to why. Probably something to do with the car explosion – or was it a truck? Abby carries on kissing you, sucking at the soft skin, bruising you with her sweet lips and tongue, “m’ always obsessed with you,” she purrs, the hand she’s got strapped across your collarbones soothing the skin of your shoulder. “Mm, yeah – but something --” she rubs the ball of her palm over your clit, pushes it, this time, and your sentence catches. “Shit —” you hiss, eyes rolling back. A shiver runs down your spine as your brain short circuits. Desperately, you try to keep a hold of reality, try not to fall into the dizziness of it all.
Sometimes that happened with Abby. You didn’t mind, but you wanted to hold on to your consciousness for a little while longer. You huff, shake your head – try to remember your next sentence. “Something different about today.”
“Had a dream that I fucked you last night.”
Oh, you think, that’ll do it. You can’t help but grin -- delighted that you’ve managed to weave your way into her subconscious.
“Things were different, normal,” she explains, still taunting you with her hand. She’s pushing up, grinding up and down your clothed slit with an intrinsic kind of determination, using just enough pressure to make you delirious. 
As she pushes her fingers low, your clit throbs. Your pussy clenches, tight and sore. You were never good at this bit. Never good at waiting. You clutch her hand, tense and fidgety, gut tightening as her fingers slowly push you to some metaphorical edge.
“Don’t laugh,” she adds, and you do, but not at her, more so at the situation. Your big, controlling Abby, asking you not to laugh at her. “M’ not gonna laugh at you Abs,” you pant, grinding slowly, breathing deep, trying to calm yourself down for this admission she’s so ashamed of. 
She leans in close, mouth against your ear as if the TV can hear. All it does is add to the pressure, her voice so close, it’s like it’s in your own head.
“I dreamt that you were my housewife,” she whispers, and fuck, that’s not what you expected. That’s not what you expected at all. “That I came home,” she continues, sliding her fingers up and down, up, and down, and you’re wet against her. Soaked through the cotton, her fingers damp with your slick. Jesus Christ, she’s only been playing. 
Hadn’t felt like she’d been trying all that hard, really, and here you are, making her hand all wet. You both watch her play with you – draw it out, fingers dragging, your hips trying to match her rhythm. “’n’ you were making me dinner, dressed up all pretty – heals on, nothing underneath.” “Y-Yeah?” you breathe, quick and short, the only sound you can make besides the quiet moans you’re mumbling. “And you waltzed up to me, said, honey, you’re home. N’ undid my tie.”
You’re wet enough that she can see the outline of your pussy through her boxers. Gently, she relaxes her palm and slides her middle finger through your slit, your legs widening, watching her, knowing what she’s doing before she does it.
“That’s it,” she mutters, finger pushing against your clit. “So fucking wet, s’so fucking hot,” she breathes into your ear, teeth on your earlobe and fuck, you nearly come. 
Nearly burst, white-hot heat jolting through you, eyes clenching together, pussy clenching – want her inside of you, feels like you’ve never wanted her more than you do now.
She carries on, languidly rolling your clit around, tenderly pushing at the nerve.
“Then you dropped to your knees,” she coos into your ear, and fuck, in your haze you didn’t see her move. Didn’t feel her slide her hand over your throat, holding you still. You swallow against her palm.
“and unlaced my boots. Took them off for me, so good. So helpful.”
She keeps the pace steady. Hits the nerve at such an angle that you can’t run from pressure. Your pussy gushes, and words fail you.  
Abby kisses your cheek, “You okay baby? Gone quiet on me.”
“I think um gonna come,” you quickly admit, voice cracking. You’re clenched so tight that it hurts. Just begging for something, anything, to fill the need she’s building. Your thighs twitch and you feel her smile on your cheek, curved cheekily. She ignores you. Carries on.
“Dinner on the table for me, my favourite. Dessert in the fridge, beer on ice. Your pretty little face so excited that I was back.”
Your small voice shatters through her spiel -- “Did you fuck me against the table?” you whimper, imagining it. “With my dress and heels still on?”
Abby groans. Her fingers break their rhythm for a second, go sloppy – get distracted. You think about her bending you over the kitchen table, your hair in her fist and her strap in her hand. 
She gets her rhythm back and picks up speed. Rubs your clit in tight, controlled circles, and you feel yourself get closer. There’s a familiar ache at the bottom of your belly.
“Yeah baby, I did,” she breathes. “Treated you like a lady. Made you come on my cock so quick that my dinner was still warm.”
“Abby,” you burst, cutting her off. Fuck, you hear it – hear how desperate you are. “You don’t wanna watch your movie?” she teases, using the hand on your throat to push your chin to her. She looks at you pitifully, blue eyes blown wide. “No,” you whine, teeth chewing at your bottom lip, making it swollen. You manage to shake your head, and she pulls your lip from your teeth, using her thumb to slide your spit over your chin. “Don’t wanna see how it ends?” she further taunts. “N-No,” you sob, nearly crying. Actually, no, you are crying. Yeah, your cheeks are definitely damp with something. 
You sniff, and Abby goes soft. For a fleeting second, she switches -- kisses away your tears, and says, “shh, okay. I know sweetheart, I know.”
She pushes her forehead against yours, and you’re lulled into a false sense of security before she pulls her fingers away. 
You shatter, gasp “No!”, and Abby kisses you, shuts you up, hands tugging your boxers down, quickly pulling them over your knees and discarding them onto the floor somewhere.
She tugs your thighs open, too, fully exposing you, and the cool air hits your damp pussy just as she stuffs her fingers back, sliding her thick middle finger through your slick before pushing it into your swollen, aching hole.
The world tips on its axis. For a brief, cataclysmic moment, you go somewhere else. Mouth open, eyes clenched close. The obscene pressure is overwhelming, and you clench around her finger, so tight that she groans into your mouth.
“Jesus,” she curses, “ease up baby, lemme make you feel good.”
It takes all of your willpower to loosen up, to relax. When you do, she slides out, then in, gently, slowly fingering you, warming you up, before she adds another finger, wet enough for the stretch, and you go blank.
You don’t say anything – can’t, no words, only sounds, loud and against her mouth. Cursing her out, moaning her name – garbled and sloppy, hands clutching her forearm, nails digging into her skin -- all sensation. 
You can hear how wet you are, hear your pussy squelching around her fingers.
“'m gonna come,” you gasp, and Abby nods, kisses you, tastes your spit and coaches you through it, “That’s it, baby, just let it all out.”
Seconds later, it rushes over you.
Sucks you under and spits you out, your hips bucking against Abby’s quick-moving fingers as you come, wet and hot, spilling over and soaking the sheets. “m’ my god, my god,” you whine, the white-hot feeling never-ending. 
Legs shaking, and Abby watches, praises you, says, “oh fuck, look at that,” and you can’t, it’d be too much. Instead, you whine against her cheek, back arching, body shuddering, her name spilling from your lips like spit.
“Abby,” you babble, “Abby, feels so fuckin’ good, you make it so good,” you drool, words sloppy, pussy clenching tight. 
The sensation continues. You breathe her name again, Abby Abby Abby – a prayer on your swollen lips. Please, you whisper — please what?
Abby won’t let you come down. Your sensitivity spirals, but Abby doesn’t stop. Drags her thick fingers through your clenched walls, and you gasp, hands grasping out to grab hers. 
You clutch her wet hand in your limp grip, whimpering, please, against her mouth.
“Okay,” she breathes, barely there. “Okay, I’ll stop.”
She pulls her fingers out of you slowly, kissing your forehead as you make a soft humming sound. You’re still so sensitive. 
The heat has cooled, but the feeling still lingers, and Abby kisses your forehead again, quieting the dull ache that’s washing over you. Gently, she pulls her hand away from yours, bringing her slick fingers up to her lips. 
You watch through half-lidded lids as she runs her mouth over them, humming in contentment. Pink tongue darting over the digits – you flush, your own tongue licking at your bottom lip as you study her.
You curl your legs together, thighs wet, feeling the pressure that’s still there. Abby sees you wince. She studies your features -- notes that your eyes haven’t lost their glaze, and now they’re edged with something wild, as if you’ve gotten a taste, but not enough to scratch the itch. 
There’s a familiar softness to you, too. Almost lethargic, as you run your nail over her forearm, eyes flicking over her strong jaw and flushed cheeks.
“You were messing with me all day.”
It’s a whisper, words tentative. Abby licks her lips, noting how your glassy eyes follow the movement. “Messing?” she repeats, inching forward, and pressing her forehead against yours. You close your eyes, a small, contented smile on your lips, then lick them, teeth coming out to chew. “Hm.” “You like when I mess with you?” she teases, and you hum again. The smile you’re donning builds, bubbling into a nod. 
She can’t help but reach out, and gently run her thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth. You sigh, body leaning into her touch. “You’re very distracting…” She slides her wide palm over your cheek, dragging it to the back of your neck, then holds you there, inching her head to the left and brushing her mouth over yours – a small hint of you on her lips. “…S ’almost dangerous.” “’ m sorry,” you quickly breathe, come drunk. Drunk on Abby fucking Anderson. In your hazy and small headspace, you suddenly feel bad. She must know because she shakes her head, “don’t be.”
Her breath flutters over your lips, hand flexes at the back of your neck. That pressure that she’d subsided, is back. Feels suddenly critical.
“s’my fault for thinking I have any self-control.”
You want to kiss her. The desire sweeps over you, crashing like a wave. You go to move, but she whispers, “wanted to fuck you in that abandoned warehouse,” and all you can do is ask, “Why didn’t you?” A laugh rattles through her.
“nearly did.”
You think about the blood on her hands, think about the smear of it as she pulled your hips against hers, mouth hot and desperate. She’d sucked a quick bruise under your earlobe, and you’d melted. 
Electric had shot through your belly, warming between your thighs. 
Abby, you’d moaned, and she’d just about growled. Teeth had nipped at your tender skin, just this side of mean, and your brain had short-circuited.
You forgot about the impending danger around the corner — all you could think about was Abby, with her wandering hands and soft lips. The way she licked away the scratch and kissed you again, said, we gotta get this thing over with so I can take you to bed.
“Would have, too, if I wasn’t so damn responsible.”
She tuts at herself, annoyed at her regiment. She licks the spit off of her lip and you pout, I wanted to do that, you think.
“I like the responsible Abby,” you manage to mutter, bumping your mouth against hers, “She keeps me safe.”
Abby hums. Her eyes close as if she’s bathing in your omission. Abby does keep you safe. She’s strong, capable — a brilliant teammate and when she needs to be, a leader. She quiets the anxious thumping of your heart, and when she’s got you like this — floaty and soft — quiets it completely.
“Please kiss me,” you suddenly breathe, overwhelmed with the desire to have your mouth on her. “I’ve been waiting patiently.”
At the back of your neck, you feel her hand flex. She brushes her mouth against yours again, gently teasing, “You have, haven’t you?” her brows raise – followed by a sickly sweet smirk.
There’s something about this space you’re in that makes even the smallest of mockeries big and meaningful.
“I have,” you just about plead, and Abby’s smirk twists, a flash of longing bleating over her features, before she catches your lips, kissing you deep and long -- your resulting moan cracking through the bedroom. 
Her tongue comes in, wet and warm, forcing you closer — forcing you to just about clamber into her lap, damp inner thighs sliding against her sweatpants.
Abby pulls away, eyes dark and cloudy as she whispers, “Want me to get the strap?” and the only answer you find is, yes.
 You watch as Abby drags the leather straps up her thighs, then crawls onto the bed, buckling up one side as she moves. Immediately, with an instinct she’s drilled into you, you get onto your knees to do the other, hands fumbling around the leather. 
You’ve done this countless times before. Know what notch she likes it on. Knows she likes it tight, likes when the leather stretches over her thighs, marring them red. She lubes it up as you buckle her up tightly.
“So helpful – such a good girl, you know that, huh?”
She moves to kiss you, and you giggle into her mouth, catching the back of her head as she pushes you into the bed. Her strap brushes over you, and you sigh, humming at the sudden wet sensation. 
She tastes like you. Tastes like musk and mint and Abby. You tongue your way into her mouth, suddenly wanting more. Wanting her, carnally. Spent all day with her -- you spend most days with her, but it’ll never be enough.
You break away from her, slowly blinking, watching a trail of spit connect the two of you. She’s propped up on one elbow, watching you. 
Her eyes are navy blue under the shadow of the light, the freckles on her nose hidden, but you know they’re there. Know how they sprinkle out evenly as if they were painted there before she was handed off to her mother.
“I like being helpful,” you admit. Something flashes in her eyes. Her features shift, once playful, now soft, and her hand comes out, brushing your hair away from your forehead. 
Instinctively, you move into her palm. It’s warm – calloused, familiar. You move to nuzzle your nose into it.
“I like that you let me come along on patrols,” you whisper.
You don’t see it, but Abby’s face twitches, “I don’t let you do anything – I want you there.”
There’s a beat before you respond, too busy running your nose over her palm. When you turn to her, you flash her a cheeky smile, “So you can mess around with me.”
Abby sniffs a laugh, but she shakes her head, “So you can save my ass when I eventually fuck up.”
“s ’never happened. I don’t remember.”
“Selective memory.”
Her fingers move, forefinger resting under your chin and thumb coming up to slip over your bottom lip. Abby swears she sees your eyes glaze over again. She loves this. Loves when you get like this. It lets her know that you trust her, trust her to do what’s best.
“You with me?” she just about purrs. You hum. She watches as your body goes limp like she’s pressed a hidden button. You shift, your legs open wide, and your breasts bounce with the movement. If you were watching, you’d see eyes shift over your body – hungry and desperate.
You breathe in a sigh, and it rattles in your chest. “Yeah—” you whisper, “---think so. You make me feel so dizzy, Abby.”
Your eyes flutter closed, tongue coming out to catch her thumb. Your teeth go over it, and the hood of her nail drags over your gums, your bottom teeth pushing at the soft flesh. The sensation goes directly between Abby’s thighs. Still, she shows her usual concern. She cocks her head to the side.
“You’ll let me know if it’s too much, yeah?” “Yeah Abby,” you whisper around her finger, “s’never too much though. You know me.” “Promise?” she asks, ignoring you. “Promise,” you repeat, then, “I can still taste myself on you.”
Your tongue closes around her finger, wetting it – warm and soft. Abby briefly thinks: this is what she feels like inside. She goes red at the thought. An ache builds – she suddenly wants to be nestled deep, watching you come undone again.
You suck her finger further, eyes still closed, lost in the motion. The intoxication makes you grab a hold of her wrist, keeping her steady as spit pools under your lips, dripping towards your chin.
“Is this what I did in your dream?” you suddenly ask, blinking up at her. You catch her dark eyes, and she notes the spit that’s drooling over your tits.
“When I was on my hands and knees for you?”
All of the willpower Abby had left snaps in two. She suddenly shifts, moving you by shoving her big, strong hands under your thighs and spreading you open.
“Lemme fuck you,” she babbles, hitching your hips up. You watch her try to gather her nerve, but she talks and talks as she shuffles you around  – “I gotta fuck you baby. Gotta – gotta make it good, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, nodding, seeing her lose her cool. “I gotta.” “Okay,” you whisper again. You reach over with your hand, smoothing it over her cheek, begging her to look at you, but she just takes the hand and tries to get you situated. Moves the pillow, and makes sure your hips are pushed wide enough. “Yeah – I just, fuck. Yeah, fuck. Lemme – please?” she suddenly stops, like she’s caught herself before she falls off the ledge completely. The soft skin of your thumb smoothes over her cheek, and you nod, flexing your hips up, “fuck me, Abby.”
The roles shift and ripple. When Abby gets so turned on, she gets desperate — pleads and begs instead of tells.
But when she’s got the strap stuffed against your wet hole, the roles snap back.
“Oh fuck,” you whimper, suddenly overwhelmed. You’re still a little sensitive, and now lightheaded and dizzy with delirium, all you can do is pout against her pretty mouth, eyes glazed and wide. “Shhh, baby. Shh shh shh,” she punctuates. She looks down at where you connect, and slides the strap across your sopping folds, listening for your reaction. You huff, whispering her name – then jolt up when she brushes it against your clit, hands coming for the back of her head again.
“Abs,” you gasp, scuffed knees pressing on her hips.
“Um gonna make it good, okay?” she soothes, “don’t I always make it good for you?”
She does. Abby knows you like the back of her palm. Knows all your buttons, knows when to push them – how. Knows when it’s too much, or when it’s not enough. Her eyes flash open, blue and alive, and she kisses you as she stuffs the head against your hole, slowly sinking in, burying deep.
“Oh my fucking God,” you sob against her mouth, clenching, so fucking full that you have to arch your back. Your breath hitches, letting Abby know that you’re filled up tight.
“Abby,” you whine, hands reaching for your tits. You squeeze them, fidgeting, going a little frantic at the sensation. Abby watches – sees.
“Shhh, shhh, shh,” she hushes, brushing her lips against yours, kissing you sweetly. The tenderness makes you sob, the taste of her tongue intoxicating. It lulls you, quiets you, and she pulls away, ordering, “Hands in my hair, baby, know you like em’ there.”
You do as she says, sniffling, trying to calm yourself down. She’s dragged this out slowly, though. You hadn’t realised how much you wanted her until she stopped.
She reaches over you, grabs a pillow, ordering, “Hips up, high, sweetheart – that’s it,” before she stuffs it under you, the movement jostling her cock, but when you relax back, legs high on her back, Abby stuffs you again, the new position forcing the strap to hit something devastating.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck – “you curse, eyes flashing white. “‘um gonna come so fast, Abs.” “S’okay baby,” she soothes, slowly pulling out of you. She brushes her mouth against yours as she whispers, “I’ll just fuck you until you can’t anymore.”
God, it must take minutes.
Must be minutes – maybe even seconds – of her slowly fucking up into you, splitting you open on her cock, before you’re feeling the familiar swell flood your pussy. 
You’ve got your fingers laced in her long, blonde strands, and you’re pretty sure you’re scraping your nails against her scalp, but Abby’s too busy murmuring how pretty you are to notice.
In your almost drunken haze, you notice how pink her lips are – all swollen from her teeth and wet with spit – and you can’t keep your eyes off of them. They spill compliments all over you. 
Bathe you, before pressing them to your mouth, swallowing your desperate cries.
Abby’s got one hand at the nape of your neck, and the other is clutched around your left knee, keeping it locked up against her upper back. The position means you can’t run from her. 
She’s an all-consuming presence, and it’s almost too much. She moves her hand, but you don’t dare move your knee. It’s locked there, and the position she’s put you in makes you delirious. Then she doubles the pressure with her thick fingers against her clit.
“Jesus – fuck, Abby,” you curse, eyes rolling back, the world going dark. You’re so wet that she can’t catch a grip, and her fingers swirl sloppily over your clit as her face clenches together, as if she’s doing it to herself.
“So fuckin’ wet,” she grunts against your lips, her face a snarl. You don’t see it, but she shakes her head. Shakes her head and then speeds up, fueled by the desire to make you wetter. Make it worse better for you.
The change in speed forces your eyes open. You grab onto her shoulder, hiccuping a sob, wet, hot heat pulsating between your legs. 
Your eyes roll back again, mouth comes open, fingers clench tight and Abby sees it. Knows you’re about to come so hard that she’ll feel it. “Abby,” you gasp, and she nods. Presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips and soothes you with, “I know.” “S’gonna be – b-big, fuck. M’ clenching so fuckin’ tight.”
Abby feels your back arch into her, your tits pushing against her chest. She keeps at her steady rhythm – tilts your pelvis and bucks her hips with an unrelenting tempo, catching the sight of the strap, white from you.
Your orgasm blindsides you.
You’re silent as you come. Mouth open against hers, clenching so tense and tight around her cock that it almost hurts. Then, Abby sees you release, gushing over her cock as your hips stutter and legs shake, your orgasm washing over you, knocking you for a loop.
She groans at her sight, then hears you sob, strangled, followed by, oh my god Abby, oh my fuckin’ – then it’s all whimpers, your pussy still pulsating around her strap.
Abby slows her pace.
She ignores the pressure between her own thighs, and instead, kisses the drool off of your lips, shakingly saying, never seen you come so hard like that twice, s’gotta be a record, and you’re so fucked out that you don’t even laugh.
Your eyes are glazed over, sweat pooling at your hairline, and your mouth is still hanging open as if you’re trying to find something to say. Abby kisses it shut. Tries, again, to ignore the throbbing of her clit. Tries to ignore the desire to fuck you into the mattress and make herself come.
You’re still shaking for fucks sake, but Abby can’t stop. She’s already pushing it by slowing, humming against your mouth, the sounds almost a whimper. 
Her face is snarled together, jaw clenched, and she sees your brow furrow. Feels you clench your fists to her chest, wondering why she’s still fucking you. When she drops her head into your neck, you understand.
“I’m sorry—” she sobs, wide palms dragging under your shoulders and latching onto them. “I’m – fuck – feels so good.”
You snap out of your delirium. Or it twists at least. You spread your legs, ignoring the pressure behind your clit – the sensitivity that never had a chance to subside. Now, you’re here for Abby.
“S’okay baby,” you drawl, voice trembling, but fuck, your girlfriend is desperate. You hitch your hips up and press against her tight, so she has to grind against you to fuck you, and Abby loses it. 
The added pressure against her clit forces her to moan, the sound muffled by your throat.
“Use me, okay?” you whisper against the shell of her ear, hands in her hair, clutching her to you. “use me to come.”
“S-shit, okay,” she whimpers. “Okay okay okay—” lost to her pleasure, Abby sloppily rocks into you. She picks up the speed, sinking into your wet and swollen hole, splitting you open and moaning your name so loud that it rattles through you.
“I’m gonna come,” she whimpers, then, “holy fuck, um gonna come.”
Heat rushes over you, overwhelming. All consuming. You’re suddenly filled with the urge to kiss her. 
Taste her on your tongue, and just this side of mean, you use her hair to move her, dragging your mouth against hers, letting you see her red, sweaty face and fucked out eyes.
“That’s it, baby,” you whisper, nodding, meeting her thrusts as she fucks you. “You gonna come inside of me?” you whisper, pouting, “You gonna fill me up?”
Realistically, you know she can’t. So does she, but that doesn’t stop her from nodding, hips rocking against yours. Going, “Jesus – fuck. Fuckin’ dirty.”
She hides her red face in your shoulder again, as if she’s almost embarrassed by how desperate she is.
“My fuckin’ dirty girl,” and grunts, and she punctuates it with a snap of her hips, knocking the sensitivity up tenfold. 
It feels so good, and if she carries on this way, you’re likely to come again, but by the clutch of her fingers and drag of her breathing, you know she’s not going to last long enough. 
Know that it’s not about you, though. Know that she’ll likely catch her breath for a second and begin all over again. Abby was like that. One was never enough.
Her high-pitched, shaky breathing brings you back. It’s there – even if you can’t see her face, you know it.
“Gonna come for me Abby?” you whisper. Then, with your wet mouth against her ear, you whimper, please baby, please come for me.
She does. You feel her body clench against you, a strangled gasp muffled against your neck, and then she’s shaking, orgasm washing over her and taking her under. 
You soothe her through it. Rub her muscular back, drag your nails over her spine, and kiss the side of her head. When the aftershocks cool off, she laughs. The sound rumbles against your neck, shocked and alive.
“Holy shit,” she curses, giving your neck a sloppy kiss. Your skin is still electric, but it slowly sparks out, bottoming to a dull delicious numbness. A slow, lazy smile pulls at your lips. 
Your head is still a little fuzzy.
Abby hands slide out from under your shoulders, and she presses them besides you, pushing herself up, long blonde hair falling around your head like a curtain. Her cheeks are blushed red, eyes wiry and alive. 
You feel yourself staring at her. Abby stares back. She shifts idly, cocking her head to the side and leaning to kiss you. With her tongue in your mouth, she whispers, “’m gonna move.”  
Gently, she slips out of you, kissing away the scrunch of your brows and pout to your lips. She quickly unbuckles the strap, pushing it to the side before leaning down again, wide palms pushing your thighs apart to try and distill the pressure there.
“Okay?” she breathes, putting all of her weight onto her elbows.
“Mm,” you hum dreamily, leaning up to give her a messy kiss, “That was really hot.” Abby kisses back, humming in agreement, “Feel like I just found out the meaning of life.” “What?” you laugh, scrunching your face at her.
You raise your brows, laughing, “the meaning of life is coming while fucking me?” “Yep,” she grins, bumping her nose to yours. She turns to the TV, the credits rolling.
“Should we start the movie again?” she asks sincerely, but you shake your head, fingers tightening in her hair. 
Lazily, you slip your tongue into her mouth, wrapping your legs around her lower back and using your feet to push her ass into you. She groans, trying to catch up, but you pull away just when she matches your rhythm.
You lick your lips and lean back, your mouth curling into a delicious grin. Abby watches you reach out, your thumb running over her bottom lip, and she catches it in her mouth just as you say, “Still wanna taste you.”
more abby smut
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galesleftearring · 6 months
Text
Sleep Well
Gale x Reader (Baldur's Gate 3)
Rating: Explicit. 18+ only.
CW: AFAB reader, no pronouns or names used. Graphic descriptions of oral sex. Mentions of p.i.v.
Since I hit 69 followers on this blog, you all voted if I should celebrate by writing something, and I did. Enjoy! This is my first time writing for Gale and I don't expect it to be my last.
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Gale sighed and put down the book he'd been reading. He yawned and stretched like a cat, his fingers finding your hairline and gently stroking. "Shall we go to bed, my love?"
You nuzzled your cheek into his thigh where you lay. "Mm, I think I could stay like this forever."
He chuckled, tracing the line of your cheekbone with his thumb.
"As could I, but we have a long day of travel ahead of us. We need to be well rested for whatever tomorrow will bring."
You pouted, nestling your face further into his lap. "But I'm so comfortable here," you complained, only half in jest. "And I'm not sleepy."
Gale sighed. "The rest of camp is surely asleep by now. We have already stayed up a bit too late reading. We should-"
You cut him off. "Well, if the others are all asleep..."
You turned your head ever so slightly, meeting his warm gaze. You could get lost in those deep brown eyes. The look in them was one of pure adoration, no secrets swimming in their depths. From the moment he had confessed his love to you, any reservations he had held had melted away at the assurance of your hand in his. He loved you.
A smile teased at his lips. "Oh, I see. Perhaps you want me to, erm, wear you out? Make sure you sleep well tonight?"
You nodded, blushing slightly.
He hummed approval, easing you off of his lap as he pulled off his tunic. His broad chest, tattoo tracing its way from his heart to his cheek, was softly illuminated in the candlelight.
"Come here." His voice was thick with arousal, somewhere between an order and a plea. He could have been begging, he could have been demanding. You stood, shucking off your own nightclothes, before kneeling, straddling his head, but not lowering yourself fully. Close enough for him to smell your arousal but not letting him taste you yet.
He groaned, hands rising to your hips as though to pull you onto him, hold you steady while you rode his tongue as you had many times before.
You grasped his fingers before he could pull your hips down, close the distance between your slick cunt and his warm mouth. He let out a small whine of protest. He was hungry for you.
"Is this what you want?" You teased, "do you want me to sit down? Do you want to taste me?"
Gale let out a low moan. "You know that's all I want, all I've ever wanted. I crave your nectar." So poetic, even with his pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed.
"Then you're going to have to let me taste you first." A wicked grin spread across your face as you lifted up, gently pushing his hands down to his sides.
"My love, you know you never have to--that I never expect you to--Aah!" Gale gasped sharply as you unlaced his breeches and pulled them down, exposing his already hard cock to the night air filling his tent. Running a finger up the vein on the underside, you smiled. "Good boy, already so hard for me. You know exactly what I want, don't you?"
Pressing a kiss to the head, you scooted down so that you were resting on your stomach between Gale's thighs. You knew that if you didn't take him like this, he would be content to make you cum against his mouth again and again, only seeking his own pleasure once you were a mewling mess begging for him to fill your sensitive, twitching pussy. You loved that about him--how could you not be damn near addicted to such a generous lover?
But as delightful as it was to watch him shudder with desire just from giving you orgasm after orgasm, you found that there was a very real part of you that wanted to do the same for him. Make him squirm and whimper your name, bucking his hips into your hand as you stroked him. Take his cock into your mouth until you were choking on it, tears streaming down your face. See, you would think, see how completely undone I am for you? How I worship you every bit as much as you worship me?
This was one of those nights. Just as you were lowering your head about to start sucking at his cock, Gale placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you. "No, not like this."
Immediately, you sat up. "What's wrong? We can stop if you're uncomfortable or too tired or--"
He cut you off with a low laugh.
"No, no. What you were about to do is.... delightful. Please, do not think that the feeling of your lips around me does not drive me wild. It does, most assuredly. I simply want--I still want to taste you. In fact, I'd prefer to taste you while you do that, if it's all the same to you."
You felt your eyes widen. "Absolutely," you choked out, "I would love that."
Rising from between his legs, you crouched above his face once more, this time facing his crotch. The moment you lowered yourself fully onto Gale's lips, his cock twitched and a small bead of precum bloomed from the tip.
You rocked your hips slightly against him, the friction sending jolts of pleasure along your clit. Moaning, you leaned forward, gently pulling his thighs toward you for balance. With his feet flat on his bedroll, Gale spread his legs. You bent forward, taking his tip into your mouth and licking the precum from it. Gently, you flicked your tongue across the slit there, widening the circle until you were tracing the flare at the base of the head with just your tongue.
He moaned into you and the vibration of the sound made you let out a whine of your own, muffled by your mouthful of cock.
As your pace quickened, the careful patterns Gale had been tracing along your folds became more frenzied. His fingers, usually so gentle, dug into the flesh of your hips as he pulled himself deeper into you, tongue flicking into your vagina with a desperation you'd never felt from him before, even on your first few nights together. If you hadn't had your mouth full, you thought you would have been screaming his name.
Instead, you moaned louder against his shaft as your head bobbed, taking every inch of him if only to stifle the sounds he was rending from you as he tonguefucked you. It was too much. You came with a gasp, needily grinding against his chin as he kept licking and sucking you through your orgasm.
Even though you had stopped working him as you came, the sound and taste of your orgasm sent him rutting up into your mouth again, rougher this time, thrusting up into your mouth while you held your head still and came down from your high. He was close, you could tell from his whimpers that he was about to spill. Once you could breathe again, you pulled a hand from his leg and began to stroke him, his shaft slick with your spit, as you ran your tongue along the head. Faster, faster, until he came, his load spilling down your throat with a beautiful moan.
You swallowed, your throat contracting as you licked the last of his cum from his still twitching dick.
Gingerly, you rolled off of him and resituated so that you were lying on the bedroll beside him, your faces only inches apart. Gale rolled onto his side and kissed you, deeply, sloppily. You tasted yourself on his tongue and knew he must taste the salty tang of his semen in your mouth as well.
Satisfied and slightly out of breath, he pulled back. "Was that...what you...had hoped for?" He gasped.
"Oh Gale," you murmured as you buried your face in his chest, "I don't even know where to start." Your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep.
Gale raised one big hand to cradle your face. "Start with sleep, my darling."
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moonit3 · 5 months
Note
Yandere mafia x male reader. I imagine that the reader became a prisoner because he was part of the rival mafia (the reader's mafia was defeated), our mafia boss arrives drunk and wants sex.
this took more time than I expected, maybe it wwas the fact that I didn’t know what name to give the new oc. also this is dedicated to the anon who asked for more gay sex in colorful letters.
MORE THAN ENEMIES
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➥warnings/notices: male yandere, amab/m! reader, mlm, nsfw, smut, dubcon, reader is coerced, sub! yandere, dom! reader, handjob (receiving), oral (receiving), anal (giving), both characters are drunk, reader is implied to have a big cock, is that a warning?), yandere is implied to be a virgin but reader is experienced, end is a little rushed.
➥ yandere! mafia man x male! reader
➥ synopsis: losing your group to allistair made you feel horrible, but feeling his lips on yours made things slightly better.
➥ a/n: once again I am feeding the male readers of this blog with this one, so any comments and positive criticisms is welcome to this post. it took me more time than as my original plan was to make it as I literally searched in how to write smut, so this might be better than my last works related to nsfw content and that writing this, I felt somewhat cringe and embarrassed, so yeah….but anyways, enjoy this.
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earlier today, the west coast mafia thrown a celebration to it leader after the group managed to taken down their longtime enemies. people were shoot down inside the gala room, making the walls red as the victorious drink and laugh from gaining an enormous territory over the east. the members are happy and dancing to show their enthusiasm over the victory, even the boss is celebrating with his men.
the party lasted hours until everyone fell asleep all over the manor, sleeping at the ground after a loud and crazy party, except for the boss. allistair is somewhere else way more properly than a cold floor of the living room, instead he is in his room, currently teasing his prisoner, in this case, you.
“why aren’t you paying attention on me?” the drunken state makes you worry about the amount of alcohol allistair has drink, definitely more than five bottles to turn like this. “y-you know that you are mine, right? so your attention has to fully mine!”
his body is rubbing against your, trying to gain a reaction from you. the whining coming out from his lips are driving you insane, it would be a great opportunity to take advantage of this situation and escape from this place to never be seen again. however, you can’t do this with allistair being so vulnerable like this, you aren’t a monster like his men.
your hand that isn’t cuffed to the bedpost goes over his shoulder and easily push allistair to the other side of the bed, “i don’t think you should do anything with you barely knowing what you are doing.” he climbs back to your lap, but this time more touch and needy than before. “do you even know who am I?”
he nodded, dumbly smiling and admiring the tiny blushing growing in your cheeks. allistair is planning something, despite drunk, he still one the greatest mind you’ve met and that’s why he took down your group so easily.
“you are my love~” his head is now against your neck, already cuddling you and prepping kisses at your cheek. “and as my love, you are going to make me happy for the rest of my life.”
“really? should you wait to be a little more sober to talk about it?” your free hand couldn’t stop him from zipping down your fly, not when he was faster and out of your reach while doing it. “h-hold it! allistair, you aren’t in the position to make decisions like this!”
again, you pushed him away from you and this time it was a bit too roughy as he almost fall from the bed. the smile on his face gets replaced by sadness, making you stay calm as he lays down in bed with you once more. the unusual expression of dejected doesn’t fit someone like allistair nor the soft cries that are coming from his throat, if he wasn’t drunk, he would be screaming and yelling about you disobeying him.
he began to cry, not even bothering to hold it back as his hands wrapped around your body, seeking comfortable as he placed kisses on your cheek. “please, [name]….i want you to touch me…” his hands goes over your pants, zip down your pants to reveal not only your underwear, but also a large bulge that is already quite big. “can i touch you? p-please, i need to know how you feel!”
your brief are put down to show your cock, it’s hard and there is precum leaking from the tip. allistair doesn’t lose the opportunity and start stroking it, making you fail to secure the moan coming out from your lips. “a-allistair you need—you need to stop it!” but he doesn’t stop, he ignores you and keep teasing you, going faster and more faster than before.
more precum began to spill from your cock, dirtying his slender fingers as allistair began to lick your member, fully happily to see how embarrassed you become because of him. unable to take most of your cock, allistair goes slowly as his throat isn’t accustomed to take it deeper than he wished. his head goes down and up at your member, gaining a rhythm to not slow down nor make you uncomfortable.
“a-ah!” your hips moves on its own, resulting in allistair not only in whimpering more, but also having him going faster as you free hand grab a handful amount of his hair as a way to make him go faster. “AH, ALLISTAIR!”
it took a couple of more stoking to allistair before his mouth was full. his eyes full of tears as you released him from your touch and let him swallow the entire fluids, not letting a single drop escaping his lips. your eyes couldn’t believe that he did it, the man you always feared is now looking at you with lust on his eyes. he wants more of you.
“[name]…can we do more, please?” his zipped down his pants, smiling at your exhausted and dizzy state, adoring how you look. “i promise to be good for you.”
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you are kissing allistair softly, something you wouldn’t never do, but after sharing a bottle of champagne with him change things. his lips taste like alcohol, a drink you wouldn’t never enjoy, however it’s feel good by tasting it on him.
between the kisses, your hands (now free from the handcuffs) play with his chest, twisting his nipples and in return, hearing the soft whimpering from his lips. it’s weird to have one of most dangerous man underneath you, ready to be taken by you only.
“p-put it inside me, [name]! i need you now!” allistair begs, no- implores you to take him. “just promise me to go s-slow!”
“i won’t hurt you, allistair.” you chuckled, playing a kiss on his forehead before inserting a finger inside him. the man thrown his head against the mattress and began to whine. “but first, I need to prepare you.”
regardless of trying to hold back his voice, allistair’s voice escaped and echoed through the room. it made you smile, knowing that he is enjoy made you add another finger, but this time a little bit more faster. seeing how his body reacts to your touch is interesting and you want to see more of it.
then, you hit his most sensitive spot that result on allistair whimpering and holding your arms for security. it took a couple more of touching his insides before he came with a loud moan and dirtying his chest completely, now he is the one who is exhausted.
“did you enjoy it?” you asked and he nodded, smiling despite feeling so tired and wanting to sleep. “i’m going to put it inside, okay?”
you pour some lube around your length, then slowly pushed your cock inside him, taking time to get allistair adjust to your size. his moans got louder, but not enough to break the privacy the bedroom gives to both.
“hmp—!” his body shivers when your all of your cock got inside. it’s a new sensation to allistair, you know that, so you take a couple of minutes before starting thrusting in and out slowly, gaining more whines from him. “a-ah—ah!”
your bring his legs closer to you, carefully throwing it above your shoulder to make him take your cock deeper. then you continue to e thrust into him, making lewd noises from the impact between your cock and his entrance.
“g-good—!” his body shakes as you hit the most sensible spot again, gaining a sweet moan from him. allistair moves his arms to your neck, bringing you closer to give you a kiss. “hng—! you a-are making me feel good!”
it took a couple of more thrust to both of you each climax at the same time. you came inside this time, not daring to pull away when the idea of filling him up sounds appealing. and allistair dirty his chest again, but this time he looks calmer of it. after a while, you remove yourself from him and the fluids inside him slowly got out of him entrance, hitting the now dirty sheets.
a smile on his lips as allistair kissed you again, exhausted but happier to experience something so special with you. the two of you lays down on the bed, not caring if it’s dirty, he is staring at you with his lovestruck eyes.
“[name]~” his fingers reach out for a lock of your hair, smelling it when you just stare at him. “i love you.”
“…” it’s strange to believe of what just happened between you and the man who tried to kill your. he is your enemy, someone who took down the people you considered as a family and now you just had sex with him while drunk. it was wrong, but…it felt good at the same time.
“i love you too, allistair.”
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@moonit3 writings
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russellsppttemplates · 4 months
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A little hope (Lando Norris) (Part 1)
Lando will give you all the time you need if it means you will work things out
Note: english is not my first language. I don't think I've ever written a piece without closure/closing off the subject like this, so constructive thoughts are appreciated... might do a part two depending on how this one goes, let me know your thoughts on it! ✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions a couple's fight, self-deprecation moments, body image insecurity, signs and symptoms of anxiety
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Here, gorgeous", Lando said as he opened the door for you, letting you in first and following suit, finding your places around the table as the meeting was about to start.
"Thanks, love", you whispered as you set your things down on the table, turning on your laptop as you gathered everything you needed to show them.
"Whatever you want to do, we'll do", Lando noted a while into the meeting already. He didn't know that much about graphic design, so if his graphic designer said they should do it, they were going to.
The frown on your face, however, didn't seem to agree, "I spoke to the marketing guys, as well", you looked at Anna as she nodded, "and they think this is also the best strategy if we want to expand it to this market", you clarified.
"Then that's how it's going to go, Y/N", Callum asserted, noticing your slightly antsy posture as you moved on to the next point of discussion.
This had been happening for a while, the thoughts plaguing you with the fact that, in the simples of terms, you worked for your boyfriend. While the relationship had nothing to do with how you got the job and position, and inside the team, no one seemed too phased by it, part of you wondered if you were taken differently because of your relationship.
"Alright, Y/N?", Tara said, calling you back to planet Earth, "yes, sorry. But I agree with that, yes, but could we do this earlier, maybe this week? It would match up with all the dates we have", you answered, earning everyone's approval as they booked the shoot for Friday.
A knock on the door startled you as a woman peeked, "I'm sorry, I'm looking for Anna? From Marketing?", she asked, looking at you, "are you her?", she pointed her finger to you.
"She's my girlfriend, Y/N, she's our graphic designer", Lando said with a big smile.
"That's Anna", you said as the ginger haired girl raised her hand, "I'm Y/N", you murmured the last part.
The uneasiness took over your body again when you noticed the woman's look directed at you, a mixture of a silent scoff and a despised expression.
"Do you need a ride home, baby?", Lando asked once the meeting ended, "I have to go somewhere before going home, but thanks anyway", you said, kissing his lips chastely and bidding goodbye to everyone.
"Is she alright? She seemed off today", Max commented as he saw your interaction with his bestfriend, "this project had been taking a lot out of her, she's been tired, that's all", he said as he looked at your back as you walked away from them, "at least I hope it's that".
Only it really wasn't that, and with your calendar and Lando's calendar, you only saw eachother again on the day of the shoot.
The fight you had the day before still resonated with you and Lando, each of you measuring your words and how you had behaved.
"In Quadrant, you are my superior and I respect that", you pointed between you two, "but I'm my own person and if there's something I say, I want to be heard as me, Y/N, graphic designer for Quadrant", you cleared, "And in the meetings, if I give an idea, I want it to be heard and seen as coming from a graphic designer with experience and knowledge, not your girlfriend who you're afraid will get hurt if you say no and always let me get my way", you explained.
"But who said that I don't respect you like that? Because I do! I've considered every idea you've said like I'd consider them if somebody else said them!", Lando attempted, "do you think my love for you is not genuine? Do you think my appreciation for you or how much I value, as a person and as a member of the team, depends on what? What do you think this is?", Lando snapped, looking angrier than you've ever seen him. He usually kept a calm stance no matter how stressful the situation was, so the slight raise in his and his tone was enough to show he wasn't his usual self.
"Is it my fault you are my girlfriend? Are we putting this relationship, our relationship, in a basket of cons for us and for our lives?", he sounded genuinely hurt at his admission.
You didn't mean it that way, and you knew he knew that, but the fact that his mind went there and considered it enough for him to say it out loud hurt you.
Despite Tara's insistence that you could be one of the models for the hoodie she claimed was made for you, you declined the invitation, feeling that it would only add to your self deprecation and the very few comments you had seen online about how "dating Lando has landed you a great gig when so many people are looking for jobs themselves". You weren't also in the best terms with your boyfriend, and since he was modelling too, it would hardly be a good idea to be so close to eachother whilst still working in front of the team.
"We printed the backdrop you sent us, Y/N!", the photographer, James, and his colleague, Kai, called for you as you went to inspect the piece. It wasn't greatly detailed, but had certain points already measured so the editing and designing would be easier for you once you go the pictures back from them.
"I've never done it like this myself, but a friend of mine from university has done this before and he said it was so much easier and the models can move freely as long as they're within the frame", you explained, sharing knowledge in case they ever found themselves with a similar issue in need of this solution.
So absorbed in the conversation about different techniques and the words they had done before, you missed Lando arriving to the studio along with Max who had started making sure everything was running as scheduled.
"First, it's model two and three", you said as you looked at the schedule Max held, "so that's...", you trailed off, looking again in the list to make sure you were calling the right names, "Lucy and Lando", you stated, looking around for them and seeing the boy laugh at something she had said.
"Guys!", Max yelled, "it's your turn", he whistled, grabbing their attention so they could get in position.
James kept telling them what worked best as Kai worked with the lights, carefully readjusting and pointing out whenever they weren't on the frame you had specified.
"Now it's just the male models", Kai said as Lucy stepped down.
"I'm sorry to bother, but do you think we can bring out the snack table around now?", she questioned as she clipped her hair back, not wanting to mess with the work that was done on the short blonde locks, "I woke up later than I wanted and I had to rush here so I didn't have much for breakfast", she cringed.
"I think we can, yes. There's coffee in there, too, so I might join you", you smiled, walking alongside her to the table the catering team had set up. You were planning to spend the whole morning in there, so food and drinks were ordered to keep everyone happy and content.
"Rough night?", Lucy asked as she say you make a triple latte from the expresso machine.
That would be a way to put it, you thought. You hated leaving things unresolved with anyone, but knowing you and Lando went to sleep without knowing where you stood, it was hard for you to close your eyes and fall asleep despite the tiredness you felt. You rolled in your bed countless times, changing the pyjamas you were wearing three times until you accepted that the choice of clothing wasn't what was keeping you from falling asleep. In total, you probably slept four hours, and you were hoping the coffee would help with that.
"I remember when me and Lando used to go out, there was this week where it was four nights!", she smiled, stirring the hot tea in her cup as she took one of the small sandwiches.
"You and Lando used to go out? I didn't realise", you asked, the curiosity killing you and the dread to know the answer even more.
"I mean going out as in out of the house and into clubs, parties and such", she laughed brightly, and even that didn't seem to settle your heart, "we found out we have mutual friends that work for the same chain of clubs. We never slapped a label on it, I think neither of us wanted the attachment or rules you had to follow, you know? He's always wanted to be free on his endeavours and do as he pleases".
"Sure", you gulped, drinking the hot coffee as you thought about her words, not going to far, probably for your own good, since you heard something fall, "I better go see what that is, excuse me", you smiled lightly.
As it turned out, there was a piece of metal holding the backdrop that had a smaller piece holding it together that wasn't the right size, "we have to tools in there, let me just change it quickly", you said, "you guys can go and grab a coffee and some snacks, they're really good", you offered, "I'll sort out the programming for the next set while I'm at it, too".
Carrying the piece to the room where you kept the tools, you turned on your laptop and ran the code, fixing the metal piece in the mean time when you heard someone walk in the room, "was the coffee that bad? I- Oh, hi", you muttered, seeing Lando walk in and sit in front of you as you worked on the table.
"Can we talk, please?", Lando wondered. Even though he was clearly tired and his usual bright eyes had required the makeup artist to apply eye drops on him twice already, he still looked as handsome as ever. His curls was bouncy and the green coloured hoodie was a perfect match against his tanned skin and the minimal jewellery he had on.
"Sure", you asked, setting the screwdriver down and looking at him.
"I want to apoligise if I made you feel unworthy, professionally and personally. It was never my intention, Y/N. I want to be there for you, and I want to protect you and help make sure nothing bad happens, okay? I'd hate to be the reason you feel bad, baby.
"But I also need you to tell me what's wrong, because I know something is bothering you and I don't care who I have to call or what I have to do to help, but you need to tell me", he stated.
Your eyes started to feel tight and threatened to spill tears you were sure had been building up for more than a week, "I'm a confident woman, I know what I'm worth", you reasoned, "growing up left from what society thinks women should behave and look like, I've had to grow thick skin and be confident in what I do. It's not that you've had other partners or flings before, it's the way I'm being labelled as your girlfriend. Suddenly, I lost my name, my identity and I'm something to someone, that's what people see.
"I love you, and I love being with you. I've had so many opportunities that I wouldn't have had in other jobs and in other relationships, but I'm not sure losing who I am is a fair price to pay", you added. "I need to think this through. I'm not in the right state to argue this and risk saying something I don't mean and hurt you in the process. I don't want to hurt you, Lando, and I don't won't to be hurt either, I'm sorry", you sighed, looking into his colourful eyes.
"I love you, Y/N, so much", he said as he took a step forward, testing the waters and not getting resistance from you which led him to press his lips on your forehead, depositing a slow and soft kiss there, "I don't want to hurt you either, but... Think about it, okay? Really give it some thought because there's a way and we will find it", he attempted, realising it wasn't his place to tell you how you should feel about something and finding a common ground.
"Sorry to interrupt, guys, but we need your opinion on something, Y/N", Kai asked, sympathetically smiling as you excused yourself from the room and back to the studio area.
Lando went outside to cool off a little, thinking about your discussion and taking the opportunity that he wasn't needed inside for a while.
Had he been a pushover? Was that how you felt? You hadn't been yourself in the past two weeks, but he had put it down to the fact that you had been to the race with him and then Quadrant had this project that you wanted to see through from begging to end and it was on a tight schedule. You wouldn't be persuaded to take it easy, so Lando did his best to make sure you were as well as possible, but he seemed to have failed.
"I don't know how long it will be before they notice I'm gone and need help, so I'm advising you to spit it out while you can", Max jumped in, sitting on the floor and against the wall next to him.
"Just tired, didn't sleep well", Lando muttered. He didn't sleep at all, truth be told, images of your shattered expression kept replaying in his head as he tried to figure out what was happening to you two.
"I suggest you tell me the truth", Max squinted, "so, try again".
"Y/N and I have hit a rough patch? Our first big fight? I'm not sure", he admitted, "she isn't telling me much, but I think it's about the fact that she works for Quadrant, as in the company I, her boyfriend, own and something about treating her like and employee and not my girlfriend", Lando let out, starting to get worked up, "she tells me this, and I've kept my distance, and that's not been good either. Didn't she say that I should treat her like the employee she is?", Lando snapped as his body language showed another set of emotions.
"She is an employee, yes, and she deserves to be treated as such. But she's also the person you come home to, she was someone before she met you, she is a person outside of your relationship and you shouldn't meddle things. You know that dating you isn't easy and she's been getting the backhand of it", Max reasoned as Lando listened intently, "the social media team have been taking care of it, but there have been comments that are less than kind about her on Instagram, the email marketing too...! It's shitty, less than reasonable accusations, but it has been there... Y/N has never liked to be discredited, and I'm not saying you do it per se, but maybe it's where you should go first", he tapped his friend's back.
"She's not letting me in, how am I supposed to know?!", Lando got antsy again, feet tapping the ground incessantly as his breath got quicker and shallower as he struggled to focus a little.
"Is this rage you feel? Anger?", Max checked, handing Lando the ice-cold water bottle so he could focus on the temperature and not spiral out, "you're good, mate? What do you feel?".
"It's fear that I might lose her", Lando said as he allowed himself to cry, "I'm afraid of losing her because of something I did to her unintentionally. Because being my girlfriend is bad for her and I can't be selfish and tell her to be with me when she's suffering. Because I can't help that I'm proud of her and I won't to belt out how proud I am of her work and that I have her?", he let it all out.
"Have you thought about how it feels for her, though? Even for you, there are comments left and right about how you got to where you are, so imagine how it is for her", Max thought out loud, letting it all sink in.
By the time they came back to the studio, the models were gone and, by the looks of it, so were you as they tidied the place.
"Lando, Max", James called, "we're just finishing up and then we'll also get going. Y/N had to leave, she said something about her mother calling her and she needed to go. Didn't look life threateningly urgent, but she had to get going. Also- Lucy, I think her name was -, she left her number here for you", the photographer said, "she asked me to make sure I handed it to you", he smiled, "do you need mine too? I'm assuming it's for the contract payments?".
"Yes, there was a mishap with her contract, but we checked and yours are still there, no worries with that", Lando lied, impressed at his ability to come up with a half decent excuse.
Walking up to his car, Lando threw the card James gave him in one of the bins outside before getting in with Max, "let me just send this text, one minute".
To lovie ✨️
I'll give you all of the time that you need, but I'm not leaving this, I'm not leaving us. You're the love of my life and I'll wait as long as you need me to, so whenever you want to talk, I'm here, baby.
I love you to the moon and the stars 🤍
"I'll be damned if lose her, Max", Lando admitted, resting his elbows on the steering wheel and supporting his head on his hands.
"You two were made for eachother, Lando. You'll figure it out", his best friend comforted.
As he was reversing out of the parking space, his phone beeped with a notification.
From lovie ✨️
Thank you for letting me do that, I appreciate it more than words can say.
I love you to the planets and around the Milky Way.
For now, it brought a smile to his face, and a little hope. And he would hold on to that little hope.
Part 2
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multifariousqueer · 4 months
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Felix Catton Headcannons 💛🪩
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a/n: AHHHHH ITS SO GOOD TO BE BACK!! i revamped the blog so hopefully its more authentic and grown up. however, still respect my policy of black reader(no messy buns and crimson red cheeks sorry{not sorry}) being the main reader and smut still happening on this page. I’ll lyk when requests are open again(hopefully soon) and yeah! To all of my new friends, hi!!!! I’m multifarious and hopefully I can provide as much brainrot as possible. i have no intention changing my name rn but still be respectful and kind always 🫶🏽🫶🏽
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, cute scenarios, kissing, suggestive language, that’s all(for now 😏)
summary: just some good ol’ Felix brain rot and headcanons(ik yall missed them)
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Felix Catton headcanons
You two first met at Oxford and he was immediately intrigued. You shocked him when you asked what one of his wristbands meant and he answered with a pleasant smile and you retorted that you had been there before. He smiled and asked for your name which you happily obliged in giving him.
You went to a pub and saw him again and he asked where you were headed and when you answered, he huffed and insisted that you stay with him instead.
He spent the entire night holding you by the small of your back and being very touchy and you were giggly(whether from the alcohol or his intoxicating energy still leaves something to be desired).
Felix walked you back to your dorm where you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
He was spotted by you in the library and he struck up a conversation about where you are from and your hobbies:
“A pretty girl like you must be from somewhere special”-he said
“Oh! No, I’m just from(enter state or city here)”- your ears fell hot and you felt yourself melt into his gaze.
“Ahhhh I think I’ve heard of that place before” even when he hasn’t
“Oh haha yeah. So what about you?” You chuckled, picking up on his white lie.
“Oh my family just owns a house in Saltburn, have you heard of it? It’s kind of small” he said modestly
“No sorry. I don’t know much about the UK besides the Beetles” you laughed
Felix chuckled at this and he found your naivety cute and endearing
He introduced you to most of the things in the UK and over time, you started getting closer
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Actual headcanons:
-Spoils you relentlessly and doesn’t understand the concept of not doing so. To him, you’re a princess and you deserve to be treated so.
-His friends don’t like you because you aren’t wealthy(unless you are, slay queen or king) but Felix doesn’t care.
-Asks you if you want to smoke and accepts when you say no
-Has fluffy hair and mewls when you run your hands through it
-Kisses you when you wake up and when you try to push him off of you, he just grabs your hands and kisses them too.
-Makes you look like a ragdoll(and throws you around like one too ;)
-Loves picking you up and spinning you around while kissing you
-Doesn’t understand the concept of personal space when it comes to you but fully expects you to give him space when he needs it
-Loves to hold your hand and play with your fingers while making comments about how small you are compared to him
-Plays with your feet when you’re sleeping next to each other
-Helps you with your homework when needed
-He loves tanning and even though you’re already tan, he will ask you to come and read to you during it
-Reassures you whenever he gets hit on and playfully blows girls off
-If you’re getting flirted with, he will go out of his way to make the other guy feel like a third wheel by kissing you, spinning you, and calling you pet names while nuzzling your nose
-Begs you to go to Saltburn; when you do, his entire family loves you.
-His mom cups your face in her hands and remarks about how pretty you are.
-You two gossip while Felix rolls his eyes and makes comments
-Felix calls your parents and flys out to meet them
-They love him(he took his piercing out so they wouldn’t think he was a freak)
-He is horrible at Just Dance and when he messes up, he pushes you slightly so that you mess up too
-This leads to him flopping on the floor while holding you and laughing
-TOTAL GOLDEN RETRIEVER BOY
-Felix is super protective and he tracks your location 24/7 and asks you about it when you come home
-If he is lying anywhere, he will pull you into him and kiss you into a full makeout session
-Anyways FELIX SOLOS YOUR FAVS
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heartsforvin · 29 days
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BEING FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS WITH VINNIE
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hc’s of what i think it’d be like to be fwb w vinnie <33
warnings; mentions of sex
• the two of you met in a time where neither of you wanted something serious. so, you decided to be friends that occasionally have sex
• you two act so friendly outside of the bedroom that it’s almost as if you don’t fuck twice a day
• vinnie will make deals with you if you’re playing a video game
• “if i win you gotta gimme head for two weeks.”
• “two weeks?! that’s so unreasonable. if i win then you gotta gimme head for a week.”
• the two of you argue as if you’re actually together
• sometimes the two of you will ask each other if you want a real relationship but then you just end to laughing because you’re too comfortable where you are
• PET NAMES !!!!
• it doesn’t bother you like you thought it would. he calls you them in the bedroom and they just stuck outside of it
• him buying you lunch but of course you have to add that you’ll some sort of sexual thing out of it 🙄 (not every time)
• him buying you lingerie 🤭🤭
• literally fucking everywhere, this man does not care where you at, if his dick’s hard he’s gonna take you somewhere and fuck you
• you being his personal model !!!
• him being the most touchy person ever. always has his hands on you when you’re alone
• HE IS THE BIGGEST FUCKIN TEASE AND YOU HATE IT
• when you bend down to pick somethin up he’ll stand behind you, grab your hips and thrust as if he’s hittin it
• SEXY ASS POLAROIDS !!! he’ll keep one he especially likes in his wallet and take it out when he misses you
• if you two aren’t together he’ll send dick pics and then be like “missin you baby 🙁” actin all innocent as if he didn’t just send you his dick
• phone sex is like your bff. since vinnie gets busy traveling you obviously can’t go w him so phone sex is the next best thing
• you’ll take him w you to VS/ pink to buy cute panties and the whole time he’s just like “mhm yeah, those are nice.” when he’s really just thinkin about ripping them off you
• vinnie lowkey being the submissive one at times and you love it. you’re not afraid to tell him either and he teases you about it
• you sending nudes to him when you know he’s at a work thing or out with friends
• he gets you back by texting you what he’s gonna do to you when you two hang out again and you just laugh, saying hes all talk
• until he actually does it and you can’t walk for a least a day
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hiii i hope you guys liked this !!! if you didn’t see my most recent post, i already have a fwb!vinnie fic that was posted months ago so im not doing another one
but i’ll do texts next and there will be more of those !!!!
tags; @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @visualbutterflysworld , @forevergirlposts , @bernelflo , @leqonsluv3r , @louloulemons-blog , @supabhad , @defnotayonna , @laylasbunbunny , @slvthrs , @st4rswrld , @kayleiggh , @mggcult , @kriissy4gov , @violet0182 , @hallecarey1 , @lovingsturniolo
287 notes · View notes
writing-wh0re · 4 months
Note
AAAAH, I just saw you posting your prompts and your requests are open. I don’t know if you write them together or individually, but if you can (or if you can’t but you can write for one of them), could you do Fred and George with a Smutty prompt #3?
All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.
George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley
Word Count: 6,167 - I had so much fun writing this
Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse, Female Performing Oral, Daddy Kink, Slight Choking Kink, Slight Slapping Kink (if you squint), Praise Kink, Slight Degration, Slight Breeding Kink, Spanking Kink. Slight cum kink. Use of pet names.
Basically its a very kinky smut and there's actually plot - look at me go.
A/n: Sorry I have been inactive, life am I right? But I'm getting a desk setup completed so I will be more fequent! I hope. I apologise for this being long, but I truly had so much fun writing this request. My love for the twins is reigniting. I will be fixing up my taglist as well / making a library blog for posts. I have written this smut differently to how I have in the past, let me know if you'd like a part 2!
Merry Christmas x
| | | |
Hogwarts was quiet the closer it got to Christmas, snow was gently falling and the gusts of wind were freezing. Most students went home for Christmas but this year was different for you. Your parents had decided to take a trip to get away from the wizarding world for a few months with no real timeline of coming back, it was something that shocked you but also didn’t surprise you. 
Fred and George had decided to not rush home right away, debating on whether or not to ask you to join them at the Weasley house for Christmas, not really sure of what your relationship was, if it was anything other than lust and desire. 
“You can’t sit alone in the common room for weeks, it’s Christmas.” George grumbled slouching down on the couch beside you.
“I’ll be fine, honestly, I have so many books I can read.” You gestured to the pile of books on the table that you had acquired from the library. “You two should head home, I’m almost certain your mum has made your favourite foods.” 
Fred smiles at the mention of his mum and her tradition of making something for everyone to enjoy. 
“You can come with us, we have a spare room and I’m sure mum would be overjoyed to finally meet our best friend.” 
Best friend
Although not untrue the word still seemed to pang your heart with disappointment. An on and off hook up to them doesn’t mean the same thing it does to you and that was something you were coming to terms with. 
Fred and George sensed the hesitation on you after Fred had dropped the best friend title, it was something they were yet to discuss with you, were you just best friends who fooled around? Or were you also wanting something more that you could all figure out together over time. 
“I don’t want to impose, you’ll have such a full house, isn’t Bill in the guest room this year?” 
George smirks, you do listen to every word they say. 
“What Freddie is saying is there will be a spare bed somewhere, we have two in our room and the couch downstairs, I’m sure something can be sorted.” 
“Mum already thinks you’re coming so hurry up and pack your things.” 
Your mouth falls open at Fred’s revelation, your eyes flick to George who smirks. 
“Go on, we leave in fifteen minutes.”
“I feel like there wasn’t much of a choice in this matter.” 
The twins chuckle as you pack your things up and run up to your dorm, searching your room for a bag to pack things into you. 
You quickly rush out of your dorm, running into the twins as you look up at them. Their eyes wander your face, a blush creeping up your neck. 
You look down at the floor, before George places his hand under your chin.
“Everything okay baby?”
Baby. 
You weren't quite sure how a simple nickname could make your stomach flip and your body tingle, but it did, especially coming for George and Fred. 
“Uh, um.” Your mind is foggy, unsure what you were originally rushing for. The twins smirk, sharing a quick look before your face lights up, having remembered what you wanted to ask. 
“How long are we gone for?”
“We will be coming back the week before term starts.”
“But we can come back earlier if you’d like.” 
“So three weeks?”
The twins nod as you spin and walk back into your dorm, them following behind you. You walk back and forth from your closet to your bed, where the twins have decided to lounge while you pack. Finding outfits is easy, finding lingerie works out to be a little harder under the gaze of the men on your bed. 
You quickly open your dresser draw, looking over the various colours of lace and matching sets. Quickly you grab a hand full and shove it into your bag, closing your dresser and zipping the bag closed. 
“Darling, you dropped something.” George whispers, moving past you and bending down to pick up your dark red G-string, blush creeps up your face, your stomach filling with butterflies as George passes the material to Fred who simply places it in your bag and rezips it. 
Your mind continues to rush, a million thoughts racing through your brain as the twins share a smirk before grabbing your bag from the bed. 
“C’mon love.” Fred holds your bag as he walks out of your dorm, George follows closely behind his eyes looking you up and down, sending a swift wink your way before holding his hand out, an invitation to take his. Which you do, almost embarrassingly fast. 
George squeezes your hand and pulls you along with him to follow Fred. 
| | | | 
After a few days at the Weasley home, you started to feel settled and a part of the family. Harry had joined the household on the same day as you, making you feel not so alone in the imposing feeling. No one was surprised to see you, they were excited to have another friend along for the celebration. Molly had made you feel so at home, hugging you when you first arrived, a feeling of warmth and comfort washing over you within her embrace. 
Over the past few days, Molly had shown you how to bake a few of her signature recipes, she had even gone as far as asking what your favourite food was, setting herself a goal of creating it for you come Christmas Eve. 
Being one day out from Christmas, Molly didn’t want to be disturbed in the kitchen, she needed her space and stated that everyone should go outside to play a friendly game of Quidditch, she emphasised the word ‘friendly’ mainly at the twins. 
So you sat on your broom beside Harry, waiting for everyone who was playing to fly into the air. 
“Have you played before?” Harry asks curiously, not knowing much about you, himself being two years younger. 
“Yeah, but I'm definitely not a pro.” You laugh as Harry smiles, looking out at the Weasley family. 
“I think they’re going to kick our ass.” 
“Oh without a doubt.” 
You and Harry share a smile, your eyes wandering to the golden ball, clearly not the shiny golden snitch but definitely close. The quaffle and bludgers fly through the air with a woosh sound, everyone going into game mode. You and Harry nod at each other, both taking the role of seekers before rushing into the air in search of the ‘snitch’. 
Within a matter of seconds the twins are behind you, chasing after you. You fly past the duo, diving down behind Harry who seems to have his eye on the golden ball. You quickly look over your shoulder, the twins hot on your ass. You notice the golden ball dancing between the twins. A smirk dances across your lips as you fly up higher just outside of the quidditch pitch, pulling up on your broom as the twins fly past you. They stop and look back at you as you flash them your bare tits. Both of them go wide eyed as you hold the golden ball between your hands, pulling your sweater back down. 
“Later losers” 
You turn your broom around, wiggling your ass as you dive down to the grass. 
“We won!” You scream, Ginny, Bill and Ron rush down to you, pulling you into a hug and cheering for your team as the rest of the players come to the ground. 
You make brief eye contact with the twins, a darkness in their eyes but clapping for your victory nonetheless. 
“Lunch is ready! C’mon darlings before the storm comes.” Molly gestures for everyone to come inside as you opt to help clean the game up, the twins staying behind with you. 
You bend down to pick up the spare brooms, your ass brushing against George’s crotch, your eyes locking onto Fred and sending him a wink. 
Fred stands in front of you, shielding you from the view of the house, George holding your hips, pulling you against his chest. Fred caresses your cheek, his head shaking. 
“Do that one more time and we’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone.” 
Your breathing hitches, your eyes never leaving Fred as he hooks one finger into the collar of your sweater, looking down at your bare tits. George slips one hand up into your sweater, groping your boob as you whimper, a shiver runs over your body at his cold finger tips. The fear of getting caught creeps up, a slight wetness running to your core. Fred tilts your head to look up at him, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly. 
The twins smirk pulling away from you like nothing happened and begin grabbing the game equipment. 
They walk towards the home, not once turning back to look at you. Thunder rumbles through the sky as you quickly rush inside, not wanting to be left out in the oncoming storm. 
“There you are sweet girl, would you prefer peach or lemon tea?” Molly asks sweetly, smiling at you before worry washes over her. Molly places her hands on your cheeks and a slight frown on her face. 
“Y/n, honey you look flushed, are you okay?”
You heart hammers in your chest, those fucking twins. 
“I’m okay Molly, the wind just gets to me sometimes.” You smile, reassuring her as she pulls you into a warm embrace. You make eye contact with the twins, smug smirks on their face. 
“You tell me if you need anything, now, lemon or peach?” 
You nod at Molly, deciding on lemon tea before squeezing in between Fred and George at the table, conveniently the only spot left. You spin the pasta around the fork, thankful for a warm meal. Your body tenses slightly, feeling both Fred and George place a hand on your thighs. Both of them grab and squeeze the flesh, involuntarily rocking your hips at their touch. You quickly catch yourself, continuing to eat while the twins trace shapes and grip your skin. 
| | | | 
Not much continued to happen yesterday and today had mainly been taken up by Ginny and Molly asking for help with wrapping gifts, a cheeky idea coming into your mind as you pocketed a bit of red ribbon. 
Tonight was the big Christmas Eve feast, Mr Weasley had finished work early and everyone was told, multiple times, that dinner would be served at 7pm, not a minute over. Molly hadn’t made lunch today, wanting everyone to wait with anticipation for her multitude of amazing dishes, a favourite created for everyone in the home, including yourself and Harry. You had simply asked for baked honey carrots, which judging by the smell of honey filling the home, Molly had delivered. 
“Thank you girls, go get comfy while I finish up dinner.” Molly smiled, kissing Ginny’s head before ushering us away from the table so she could set it accordingly. 
“I’m going for a quick shower.” Ginny states rushing up the stairs in front of you. You duck into the twins room, looking over George’s messy bed and Fred’s mattress on the floor, thankful that you could share a room with them but lucky enough to score Fred’s bed. 
“Mum loves you.” I jump slightly at George's words not noticing him behind me. I smile, falling backwards on Fred’s bed. 
“I love her, she feels like home when she hugs you.” I whisper as George hums in agreement. 
Fred walks into the room, his hair dripping and a towel around his waist. I sit up slightly, resting on my elbows, my eyes shamelessly dragging over his toned body. 
“My eyes are here baby.” 
That fucking nickname.
“Oh I’m well aware.” I whisper, looking over at George quickly. “Remind me, do you look like that?” 
George smirks, pulling his shirt over his head, his body just as toned as Fred’s. 
I bite my lip, looking between the two shirtless twins. 
“Noted.” 
Fred locks the door behind him, resting against it. George stands from his bed, nodding at his brother before pulling me closer to the edge by my ankles.
“We’re sick of this game love.” 
“We know you want us.”
“Fuck, we want you.”
“That shit you pulled during the game.”
“Dangerous.”
“Slutty.”
“Showing off what’s ours to the whole family.” 
My breath hitches at their words, looking up at both of them towering over me on the bed. 
“I’m yours?”
The twins smirk, George leans down, his thumb brushing against my lip. 
“Should we remind you?”
“It’s been a long time, baby.”
“We forget what you feel like.”
“Sound like.” 
They emphasise their words by groping at your body. Your body tingles, wetness pooling between your thighs. 
Fred feels your pocket, pulling out the red ribbon with a smile. George smirks, tilting his head at me. 
“Are you our Christmas gift?” 
You open and close your mouth, simply nodding as they chuckle. 
“Don’t be shy, baby.”
“Yes.” You whisper, watching their every move. 
George smiles, leaning down and pulling you up from the bed, your chest against his, your back against Fred’s. 
“How lucky are we Freddie.” 
“Extremely.” Fred whispers, his hands gripping your ass. 
George leans down to your lips, his lips hovering over mine, your breath mixing as my eyes flick from his to his lips. 
“Please.” You whimper. 
George closes the distance between you, your lips moulding against each other. Fred kisses along your neck and shoulder, sucking on your weak spot as you moan into George’s mouth, allowing for his tongue to twirl with yours. 
“Be quiet baby.” George whispers as Fred captures your lips, his kiss just as soft as George, savouring every swipe of your tongue against each other. George’s hands slip under your sweater, a groan falling from his lips at your lack of bra, twisting your nipples. 
“Fuck daddy.” You whisper, both of the twins stopping briefly, as George grabs your hair pulling your face to him. 
“Say that again.”
“Daddy.” You whimper, your lips pouting, Fred moans, his hands spanking your ass.
“We’re going to ruin you.” 
Before anything more can happen you hear Molly shout up the stairs, letting you know dinner is served. 
“Fuck.” The three of you say in unison, the boys pull away from your body. Fred rushes around the room for clothing as George puts his sweater back on. 
George smirks at you, tapping your ass and nodding towards your hair. 
“Might want to fix that baby.”
“Don’t want everyone to know you’re our little slut.” Fred winks, both of them slipping out of the room, their footsteps bouncing down the stairs. 
Your fingers brush against your lips, a slight tingle against the flesh from their kisses. A smirk forming on your face, thankful for the last few minutes, a step in the direction you crave. 
After you fix your hair,you quickly bounce down the stairs, thankful you're not the last one as Harry and Ron rush in behind you.  
“Sit, sit dear.” Molly gestures to the space across from the twins, next to Ginny and Harry. You quickly sit as Molly places the last dish on the table. The house smells amazing, a mix of spices and hints of firewood from the stove. 
“Merry Christmas, I love all of you.” Molly smiles, kissing Arthur. “Including you two.” Molly gestures to Harry and yourself as you knock his shoulder, smiling at him. “Please, eat.” 
No one waits for Molly to say it twice, everyone serving themselves. George serves you a pile of honey carrots and Fred places a few roasted potatoes on your plate before continuing to serve themselves. A soft smile falls on your lips, the simple domestic gesture filling your heart, maybe this could work. 
Everyone is quiet while enjoying Molly’s food, the sound of knives and forks clicking together. You catch Molly’s eye as she enjoys watching her family sharing dinner together, only having this occur a few times within the year. Molly catches your eye and winks at you, scrunching her nose and smiling at you before taking a sip out of her wine glass. You smile back at Molly, a warmth washing over you at the small interaction. Your eyes flick to the twins in front of you, both of them almost finished with their meal. A cheeky thought pops into your mind as you shuffle on your seat slightly, dragging your foot up George’s leg. His eyes lock onto yours, he nudges Fred inconspicuously to get his attention before sitting back in his chair, his legs spreading wider as his older brother looks down at the chair quickly. You press your foot into George’s crotch softly noticing his body tense as Fred shakes his head, grabbing his cup and tipping the liquid into his mouth. You drop your foot from George and move it to Fred, not wanting him to feel left out. Fred grabs his napkin, wiping his mouth as he looks over at George and nods. A wordless conversation shared between the two as George smirks. 
“So Y/n and Harry, what subjects are you looking forward to most next year?” Molly asks, butterflies flip in your stomach, feeling like Molly caught you. You quickly drop your foot from Fred causing him to chuckle slightly, George takes a sip from his glass hiding his smirk at your reaction. 
“Defence against the dark arts, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.” Harry states, causing a small chuckle to fill the air. 
“And Y/n?” Molly smiles. 
“Potions, I’m excited to create a few remedies for different conditions but also to help these two-” You quickly gesture to Fred and George who go wide eyed, you know Molly and Arthur don’t know about their ‘jokes’ yet but why not keep them on their toes. “With passing the subject. You know they don’t stir their cauldrons, they just expect it to work when you throw things into it.” 
Molly and Arthur chuckle, a smug smirk on your face at the panic you just gave the twins. 
“Oh that explains why their grades for positions are so high, we have you to thank.” Arthur chuckles as you nod, smiling at him. Little does he know, you have them to thank for your grades. 
You pick up your glass, taking a sip of the cinnamon eggnog, freshly made as Molly questions her kids about what they’re most looking forward to. You only half listen, your mind occupied by the pair of redheads in front of you, your mind filled with ideas on what you want to do to them and them to you. Thankfully for such a great break. 
| | | | 
The night flew by, Molly handed out one gift to her kids, including yourself and Harry. Molly stated it was something to wear for Christmas day breakfast and to not fuss over opening one present early. She asked everyone to open them at the sametime, to which you did and found yourself with a handmade sweater with your first initial on the front, everyone had one. You held the fabric close to yourself, knowing you would hold onto this for the rest of your life. 
Fred and George hadn’t spoken to you since dinner, opting to hangout with their brothers and Harry while you and Ginny gossiped on the couch. Ginny was confiding in you about her crush on Harry and how Dean had been sending her letters since he left for break. You hadn’t noticed when the room dwindled down to just yourself, Ginny and Harry. Upon noticing and remembering what Ginny had said, you excused yourself, leaving the two of them alone which caused Ginny’s cheeks to heat with a rosy blush. 
You quickly went up the staircase, noticing how much quieter the house was the further you climbed. You slip into the twins room, hearing soft snores, noticing Fred’s asleep on the spare mattress on the floor. You look to George’s bed and see it's empty. You can hear the faint running of water, a small idea popping into your head. You walk over to the bathroom, your hand resting on the handle, hoping to god it’s George. You contemplate this gamble for a few seconds, bouncing on your heels slightly before the devil on your shoulder simply says ‘fuck it’ and you turn the handle to the bathroom. 
“Hey, knock-” George pulls the shower curtain across, cutting himself off when he sees you leaning against the now closed bathroom door. A smirk forms on his face as pulls the shower curtain open a little for you, simply waiting. The steam flows outside of the curtain, the mirror foggy and walls wet. You quickly slip out of your clothes, untying your hair and letting it fall. A shiver runs over your body in the damp air and you hurry into the shower, wanting the warm water to cascade over your body. 
George has his head tipped under the shower, leaving his body open to your eyes. You drink in his figure, his toned chest and arms, his semi hard cock and strong legs. The water streams down his skin, small sprinkles covering your body. Wetness slips past your folds, your heart beat picking up, this almost feels wrong without his counterpart. But you know they will talk and you know Fred will be jealous. 
George faces you, dragging his hand down his face to wipe away the water, his eyes linger on your body, his tongue dragging along his bottom lip. 
“What’s Freddie going to say?” 
The mention of his name has butterflies erupting in your stomach. 
“Why don’t you tell him and find out.” 
George smirks at your response, stepping closer to you and pushing you against the side shower wall, the cold tiles resting against your skin as a hiss leaves your lips.
“You’re a cock hungry whore, aren’t you baby?”
Your lips part at his words, simply nodding and leaning up to capture his lips. George pulls away from you tutting as he holds your chin between his fingers. 
“You answer daddy when he asks a question.” 
“Only for you daddy.” 
George chuckles, tilting your face up to his. Small droplets of water fall from his hair and onto your skin. 
“Liar.” He whispers, licking along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth and pulling the flesh. “You’re a slut for Freddie, and fuck it makes me hard, but tonight you’re mine.” 
You nod your head, a whispered ‘Yes Daddy’ slipping from your lips, your eyes staring into his. His lips lock with yours, his wet hand moving from your chin and tangling in your hair, pulling on the strands. A moan falls into your kiss, your tongues swirling against each other, his free hand holding your hip, pulling your dry body against his. 
“You’ve gotta be quiet baby.” George whispers, his lips kissing down your neck, tongue tracing a line to your boobs. You softly whimper as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the hardened bud. He pulls from your breast with a pop, alternating to the other side, your fingers tracing through his hair, pulling when he bites your nipple. The warm shower water sprinkling your body, the steam filling your lungs as your gasp.
“You’re so beautiful and these tits.” George whispers, grabbing your boobs in his large hands and jiggling the flesh. He sucks on the skin of your cleavage, leaving a red and purple hickey on each one, definitely something to rile up Fred. 
George presses against you, your boobs slip against his wet chest. His lips brush against your ear as you feel his hard cock against you skin. 
“This is all for you.” 
Your moan in response, causing George to place a hand over your mouth. Tutting at you as he shakes his head. He drags his fingertips up and down your thighs, softly tapping against your folds before slipping one finger past. He sucks in a breath at your wetness, pressing his fingers against your clit and looking into your eyes. 
“You’re so good for me, so wet and warm.” 
You nod against his hand that’s still pressed against your lips. His finger starts to swirl around your clit in small circles. Your eyes roll back, a moan vibrating against his hand. 
“I’ve missed this pussy baby.” 
He picks up the pace of his finger on your clit, your legs tense at the feeling of pleasure flowing through you at his actions. George pulls his finger from your clit, placing the digit against his tongue and rubbing it side to side, before his lips encase it. 
“So sweet.” 
If he wasn’t covering your mouth, it would be open in shock. 
“Please.” You beg, whispering against his hand, it is barely audible, he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t feel your lips move against his skin. 
“Are you begging for me to fuck you against the wall baby?”
His words cause more wetness to flow between your legs. He moves his hand from your lips allowing for you to answer. 
“Please daddy, I’ve missed your cock.” 
George smirks, placing his hand under your right knee and lifting your leg up, his other hand resting under your left arm. 
“I bet you’d say the same fucking thing to Freddie.” 
It’s your time to smirk at his words, nodding softly before you reach down and wrap your hand around his hard cock, tip red and beading with precum. 
“I would, because I’m a whore for you and a slut for him.” You whisper, slowly pumping your hand up and down his dick. George bites his lip, looking down at your hand. You place his cock against your folds, the tip brushes your wet clit causing him to hiss at the contact. You guide him lower to your entrance, angling your hips to allow for him to slide into your velvet walls. 
Both of you sigh in unison at the contact. George keeps his hips still, his lips capturing yours, savouring in the feeling of your walls around his cock. You rock your hips up slightly, a silent beg for movement as he smiles against your lips, pulling his cock from your pussy before plunging deep inside of you. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he finds his rhythm, his cock slips in and out of you, your wetness growing the deeper he thrusts inside of you. His lips are resting against your ear, his low whispered moans and groans echoing in your head. 
“So tight and wet for me.”
“Such a good girl for daddy.” 
Hearing him refer to himself as Daddy has your pussy tightening around him, his praise sending tingles through your body. 
The water of the shower continues to run, it ever so slightly sprinkling you both with droplets. The steam continues to fill the room, the water pressure dropping from being on for so long. 
“Touch your clit for me baby, I’m close and want you to cum first.” 
You slip your hand between your bodies, a moan falling from your lips as you circle your clit, the wetness causing it to slip against your finger. You add another, two now circling your clit and fast to help you reach your high. 
“Look at you, such a whore.” 
You whimper at his words, your pussy tightening causing George to hiss, tilting his head back, his wet hair sticking to his skin as he continues to rock in and out of you. 
“D-don’t stop.” 
Your legs tense, your fingers rubbing your clit faster and George’s lips fall to your neck, kissing the skin and whispering for you to cum. 
“Cover my cock baby.”
Your heart beat picks up, your breath hitching and your eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Your legs tingle and untense; George’s cock continues to slide in and out of you, his pace picking up as he moans in your ear. His mouth falls to your shoulder and bits skin to muffle his moan as his cum spurts, warmth pooling inside of you. 
George pulls away from you, watching his cock pull in and out, covered in a mix of cum. He gently places your leg down, slipping out of your pussy with a hiss. 
“C’mere.” George whispers, pulling you to his chest and kissing your hair. He spins you around, softly placing the warm running water against your cold back, his fingers tracing in your hair. He places a kiss on your forehead, his hands now holding your hips. 
“Let’s get you ready for bed.” 
| | | | 
You wake up in the morning, a dull ache in your legs from last night. The memory of last night floods your mind, you lift your shirt looking at your boobs beautifully covered in hickeys. 
“I hear you had fun last night.” 
You look over at Fred leaning against the doorway. Your face fills with blush, your eyes quickly flicking to George’s bed as you hear Fred chuckle. 
“George is out with everyone else, mum insisted they hand deliver Christmas cards to the neighbours.” Fred states, closing the door and moving closer to the bed. “And I insisted on letting you rest because you were up late last night and had to make sure you didn’t wake up alone.” 
“Freddie.”
“Nuh-uh, what’s my name baby girl.” 
Your stomach fills with butterflies, watching the eldest twin sit on the bed beside you, his fingers caressing your face. 
“Daddy.”
Fred nods, his hand tilting your chin up, before settling around your throat. Bending down to your lips and whispering against them. 
“That’s better, I bet you called George daddy and I bet you fucking loved it.” 
“I did.” 
You want Fred to be rough, you want him to compete against his brother, you want to be filled with his cum. 
“I hear you’re a slut for me, is that correct?” 
His hand tightens around your throat before releasing softly, dragging his hand down your body and resting it on your boob. 
“Yes daddy, whatever you want me to be.” 
Fred smirks, chuckling at your response. 
“So submissive for me, you wanted to make me jealous didn't you baby?”
He grips your breast, pinching your nipple and dragging his hand down your body, cupping your pussy through your thin pyjama pants.
“You want me to fuck you better than George.”
“Please.” You whimper, your hips rocking up against his hand. 
Fred slaps your pussy through your pants as your hips stop. 
“He was right, you’re a slut for me.” 
You simply nod in response. Fred leans down, his lips ghosting yours. 
“Get on your knees and show me what you want.” 
Within a second he’s pulled away for you, leaning back on the bed and resting against his elbows. You scramble off the bed, falling to your knees in front of him, the wooden floor hard and cold. 
You loop your fingers into Fred’s pants, tugging them down his body along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting against his lower stomach. Your mind floods with comparison to George, the thickness and length comparable, a vein running from the base to the tip. You run your tongue along the vein, flattening your tongue against the head of his cock before slipping it past your lips. 
“Fuck.” Fred moans, falling back on the bed, his hands dragging down his face. 
You wrap your hand around the base of his dick, meeting your lips half way, your tongue flicking side to side around his cock. Fred’s fingers lace in your hair, assisting you with bobbing your head up and down, his hips thrusting into your throat. Your eyes water, a few gags filling the air and drool leaking from your mouth. 
“Such a messy baby.” 
Your eyes roll back, moaning around his cock. 
“You didn’t- fuck- suck George’s dick, did you baby.” You shake your head, popping his cock from your lips. 
“Just for you daddy.”
“Mm, just what I wanted to hear.” Fred grabs your face between his hands, kissing your lips sloppily, his tongue rubbing against yours. Your lips are puffy and glistening with spit, his teeth pull at your bottom lip pulling away from you. 
“On the bed baby, ass up for daddy.”
Within an instant you’re standing in front of him, stripping your clothes. Fred stops you before you can lay across the bed, noticing the hickies covering your boobs. 
“Cocky fucker.” Fred groans, spanking your ass in encouragement to get on the bed. 
You lay with your ass in the air, feeling Fred kiss down your back. He reaches your ass, spanking the plump skin, soothing it with a soft kiss to your cheek. His teeth graze the skin, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on your ass. You squeak as he spanks you, his cock dragging up and down your slit, bumping against your clit, your moans filling the air. 
“No one’s home baby, be loud for me.” 
Fred slides deep inside of you, the angle allows for him to brush against your g-spot a moan pulling from your throat. 
“Fuck, I should just stay inside of you, that would drive you crazy, wouldn’t it baby?” 
“Yes daddy, please fuck me.” 
“Mm, what would George say?”
“Fuck, please, fuck me.” 
You push your hips back against his cock, a low groan falling from his lips. 
“Fuck yourself on my cock baby.” Fred encourages, your hips rock back and forth on his cock, wiggling them against him. You pull forward just far enough to leave the tip inside of you before pushing back allowing for him to slip deep inside of you. This causes Fred to grip your hips, starting his own rhythm and thrusting in and out of you. 
“This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it baby?”
You nod against the comforter, your hands gripping the material. 
Fred spanks your ass, his fingers looping your hair around his palm and pulling you up. 
“Answer me.”
“Yes daddy, wanted you to fuck me.” 
“Wanted me to fuck you better than George.” 
You moan at his words, his pace picking up. Both of your moans and heavy breathing fill the air, his grip still tight on your hair. Fred uses his grip to pull you up against his chest, his arm wrapping across your boobs as he bounces you on his cock. 
His lips fall to your ear, using his free hand to rub your clit. 
“Fuck, Freddie.”
Fred chuckles against your ear, his warm breath fanning your neck.
“Scream my name louder baby, I want George to hear.” He pinches your clit, your body jumping in response before he rubs fast circles around the bundle of nerves. You rest your head against his shoulder, lips parted with moans pouring from them. Your pussy tightens around his cock as his dick twitches. 
“You can cum for me baby, I’ve got you.” 
Fred’s grip on your body tightens, his hips rocking into you faster. 
“Daddy, so good.”
He kisses the side of your head, his pace picking up on your clit. He feels you clamp around his cock and your body tense. Your toes curl and your body shivers, cumming around Fred.
“Good girl, good fucking girl.” Fred whispers, the sound of your wetness filling the air as he continues to pound into you. He pushes your torso back onto the bed, holding your ass in his hands and chasing his high. Fred curses and you feel his load shoot inside of you, a few more thrusts and Fred gingerly pulls out of you. 
“Look at you baby.” He whispers, softly caressing your skin. 
You gently roll over onto your back, attempting to catch your breath as Fred rushes around for clothing before disappearing. You hear the front door to the Weasley’s home open close and a chatter fill the air. You heart rate picks up slightly, your body aching and mind blissed out to cover yourself. 
Fred reappears in the bedroom with a warm towel between his hands. Within a moment later George is sliding through the door. His eyes darkening when they land on you, legs spread and pussy dripping with his brother's cum. The twins share a look as Fred throws the towel to George who stalks over to you. 
“Such a pretty baby, our little cum slut.” George whispers, his eyes fixated on your pussy. A gasp falls from your lips at the feeling of George slipping his fingers inside of you. George pulls his fingers from you, a mix of cum sticking to his flesh. You grab George’s wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth, dragging your tongue up his fingers, sucking the mix of cum, your moan vibrating around his fingers. Your eyes lock with the younger twin, a smile present on both of their faces. 
“We’re so lucky Freddie.”
| | | |
Let me know if you'd like a part 2 with both of them.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
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virginity
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words: 3.2k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, virgin!reader and virgin!rafe, kind of bullying at the beginning, very cute and fluffy rafe, reader is implied to be a kook, first date, female receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, protected (for once! yay) sex
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @dreamingwithrafe @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog
“oh my god, bridgette, you'll never guess who asked me out!” you squeal, flopping onto her bed.
“ooh, umm… kelce?” she guesses, but you just shake your head no, the smile on your face growing.
“rafe!” 
bridgette sits up instantly. “rafe as in rafe cameron?” you can tell by the look on her face that she's skeptical.
“the one and only.” you nod.
“but um… he doesn't date?” she says, genuine confusion in her voice.
“i thought you said he was basically a rich frat boy?” you sit up, now thinking over the interaction, but there's no way to confuse “will you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” as anything other than asking on a date.
“well, yeah, he parties and stuff but he doesn't… date. he's never had a girlfriend.”
“well, ive never really had a boyfriend.” you shrug. “and don't say jonathan because he does not count.”
“yeah, but you have an excuse, y/n. your parents moved you all over the country, you didn't have time to date until your parents settled here a few months ago.” bridgette counters, and she does have a point. you've never been in one place long enough to form a true relationship. “i think rafe just doesn't date because he doesn't like any girls enough.”
you frown, thinking over her words. “well i guess that means he likes me enough to ask.” you say quietly.
bridgette shrugs. “good for you. he better take you somewhere expensive, boy has MONEY!” she says, causing you both to erupt into laughter. “oh…” bridgette suddenly quiets. “i wouldn't tell evelyn. she has the biggest crush on him, she'd get so jealous if she knew you asked him out.”
-- the next day --
“hey dad…” you say in a sweet voice, fluttering your eyelashes at him.
“oh god, y/n, what do you want?”
“can i borrow your credit card?” you ask with a whine.
“y/n, you are an adult! you can’t keep borrowing my credit card! what do you need anyways?” “a new outfit… for a date tonight.” you whisper the last part, but your dads eyes still bulge open.
“a what?” “come on dad, all my outfits are so revealing, don’t you want me to buy something more covered up? or should i wear that pink skirt mom got me-” “no!” your dad cuts you out, fishing his wallet out of his pocket, slapping the credit card into your hand. “something that doesn’t show too much skin, y/n.” he warns, and you nod and run out to your car before he can lecture you or ask you any more questions about the date.
--
you look through the rack of dresses, trying to find one that you like and would feel comfortable in tonight with rafe. you don't want to give him the wrong idea by showing up wearing a dress that's more suited for a club or party.
you have some hangers already in your hand of dresses to try on when you hear a shout of your name. you look up to see evelyn and her two best friends following her. 
when you moved to the outer banks, you quickly assimilated into the social scene and learned that evelyn was the queen bitch, super wealthy, but not at all likable, with an insane amount of possessiveness over rafe, despite him never even showing interest in her. evelyns first words to you were to stay away from him, but you won't let her intimidate you away from this date.
“what are you shopping for?” evelyn asks, her lips smeared in a bright red shade of lipstick that contrasts her light hair.
“a date tonight.” you reply, keeping your eyes mostly on the clothes, trying to convey that you're not interested in whatever show of dominance she's attempting.
“i heard about that. how did you scam rafe into taking you somewhere?” she asks, her friends snickering behind her.
“he asked me, actually.” you hum, keeping your body language disinterested, despite feeling your heart start to beat faster. “I guess he likes me.”
“that's real funny, y/n.” evelyn says, placing her hand on the rack to stop you from looking. “because rafe is mine.”
“should i call him right now?” you look her in the eye, your temper reading on your face. “should I have him tell you what you already know? that he's not interested?”
“you are such a bitch!” evelyn yells, and the storekeeper finally becomes aware of the situation, heading out from behind the counter and towards you. “i will ruin you for stealing him.” evelyn states before turning and stomping out of the store, her entourage falling in step behind her.
“miss, are you okay?” the shopkeeper asks.
you hum and nod, knowing that whatever they plan on doing won't work, evelyn may have popularity because of her money, but everyone knows not to trust a word out of her mouth. “can i get a dressing room to try these on actually?” you ask, picking up a dress that you think would be perfect for tonight.
--
the doorbell rings and you give your father a glare, already having warned him to stay in the living room and let you answer the door. the last thing you need is your father scaring rafe before your date has even begun.
you open the door, letting out a breath of relief when rafe is also dressed up. you realized while buying the dress that you didn't actually know where you were going for dinner, you just assumed it would be on the fancier side.
“wow.” rafe let's out a gasp, “you look beautiful.”
you blush, smoothing out the front of your dress, giving you an excuse to break eye contact and look down at yourself. “you look really handsome too.”
“let me help you down the stairs.” rafe extends his hand, and you subtly wipe your palm against your dress before placing it in his, accepting his help out the front door as these are new heels (you couldn't resist when your dad gave you his card).
rafe keeps your hands locked together as he leads you towards his truck, of course opening the door for you and helping you in.
you smile at rafe as he gets into the driver's seat. “im excited.” you tell him honestly.
“me too.” rafe grins, keeping his eyes on the road as he takes off but reaching over your tangle your fingers together again. “im nervous too though.”
“rafe cameron did not just admit he is nervous.” you gasp, making rafes smile grow as he shakes his head.
“i really like you.” he explains further, making you smile and lift his hand to your face, pressing your lips to it in a kiss. 
--
“how's your food?” rafe asks, taking a bite of his own. you ordered salad, too nervous to eat anything else in front of rafe. since he admitted how he felt about the date, it felt all the more real.
“it’s really good!” you say. “thanks for taking me.”
rafe smiles at you, his eyes containing a warmth you haven’t seen before. “so, where did you live before moving to the outer banks?”
you had told rafe before that you moved around a lot, but never got into the specifics, so you spend most of the dinner telling him all the states that you’ve lived in and responding to his questions while asking some of your own.
rafe accepts the check and pays for you without question, brushing off your thanks before leading you out of the restaurant, his hand firmly placed on your back.
“do i need to get you home by any time?” rafe asks when you get back in the car.
“no.” you shake your head. “i don’t want to go home yet either.”
rafe smiles at you, reaching over to place his hand on your thigh as he drives towards his house. you hum softly to the music, glad for the short drive before you’re walking into tanneyhill. rafe informs you that everyone else is gone, so it’s just you two.
“should we watch a movie?” rafe asks, gesturing towards the couch in the living room.
“sure! you pick though.” you say, not wanting to have to make the choice. rafe sits down on the couch and picks up the remote, navigating to some comedy you haven’t seen before. you sit down next to him, close enough for your thighs to be touching.
rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder, letting you get comfortable against his side.
the movie is decently funny, but you’re far more focus on being tucked up against rafe. at a funny scene, rafe lets his laughter loose, and you can’t help but turn and look to him, watching his face light up.
rafe notices you watching him and his laughter softens into a smile. “can i kiss you?” he asks.
you nod, turning to face him as rafe places a hand on your cheek, bringing your mouths together in a kiss that quickly turns more passionate as you deepen it. you shift again so that you straddle rafes lap, placing your hands on his shoulders as you continue to kiss, your dress pooling on his lap.
“y/n-” rafe gasps when he pulls away, realizing both of you went a little overboard when your lips first touched.
“i have to tell you something rafe.” you say, realizing the compromising position you’re in and not wanting to give him the wrong idea.
“what is it baby?” rafe questions, his hands falling to rest on your hips.
“i’m… i’m a virgin.” you admit.
rafe lets out a sigh, like he’s relieved, which causes your brows to scrunch together in confusion. “i never thought i’d say this to you but i am too.”
“what?” you question. “i thought you were known for partying and flirting and stuff!” “yeah, i used to flirt a lot but i was never serious enough with anyone to sleep with them… not until you.” “oh my god.” you coo, leaning forward to press your lips together again. rafe wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your chests closer together.
“i would lose it with you, baby. if you want.” rafe says.
“i-yes. i want that.” you nod.
“tonight? now? only if you’re sure.” rafe says. “i know we’ve only gone on one date, but it feels… right.”
“i agree.” you nod. “i’m not saying we are going to be together forever based off one date but i want to lose it with you. together.” 
“let me take you upstairs then.” rafe stands effortlessly, with you clinging to his front as his arms hold you steady. you press soft kisses to his neck as he carries you, feeling equal parts nervous and excited for what is about to happen.
rafe sets you down on the end of his bed before stepping back, admiring you in his bedroom, especially knowing what you are about to do together.
“can i take your dress off?” rafe asks, and you nod, letting him come up and grab the bottom of your dress. you lift your hips so he can pull it up and over your head, and you let out a silent thanks to god that you wore matching underwear.
“you’re so gorgeous.” rafe says, looking down at you with glossed over eyes. you can tell from the tightness of his pants that he’s not unaffected by seeing you like this.
“sit down, let me take your shirt off.” you tell rafe, grabbing his hand so he sits next to you on the bed. you tug his shirt off, admiring his muscles as you run your hands over them. rafes hands stay on his knees, waiting for permission to touch you now that you’re scantily dressed.
“do you… do you want to take your pants off?” you ask, glancing down at his crotch. “it seems painful.” you giggle.
“yeah, the zipper hurts.” rafe admits, unzipping his pants and pulling them down his legs so he’s in just his underwear, his cock straining against the fabric, a small patch of wetness already growing.
“do you wanna lay down? i want to kiss you some more.” rafe asks.
you nod, moving up the bed until you can rest your head against the pillows. rafe crawls over your body, his eyes mesmerizing every inch of bare skin until he can press his lips against yours, the kiss is passionate but slow and deliberate, building up gradually until you’re moaning against rafes lips.
you reach behind your back, unclipping your bra before taking it off, flinging it somewhere in the room to be picked up later. rafe gives you a final kiss before looking down at your bare chest.
“oh fuck.” he groans, reaching with one hand to grip the underside of your breast, holding it in his palm as he slides down, his mouth falling open onto your nipple. you let out a moan as rafe explores your chest and what makes you moan the loudest.
he plays with your nipple with his tongue, then teases around it before ultimately sucking it into his mouth before switching and repeating on the other side.
“is that good?” rafe asks, and you give an enthusiastic nod. “really good.” “should i…” rafe looks down at your underwear, and you give another nod.
“you’re going to have to um… finger me. to open me up for you, ya know?” you cringe at your words, but you know it’s true and don’t want your first time to hurt.
“yeah, yeah of course.” rafe tugs at your underwear, his eyes staying between your thighs as he tosses the fabric to the floor. you take a deep breath before spreading your legs, putting your cunt on display for him.
“so sexy.” rafe praises you, moving so he’s lying between your thighs. he spreads your folds open with two fingers before using his other hand to rub his pointer finger over your pussy.
he traces around your clit before bumping it, making you flinch at the sudden pleasure.
“was that good?” rafe asks, and you just let out a moan in response when he doesn’t wait, rubbing over your clit again.
rafe smiles, moving his finger lower to your entrance before circling around that as well. he presses against your tight ring of muscle, thankful that you’re already quite wet as you relax and give way, letting his finger slip inside.
he begins to thrust it in and out slowly, building up speed as it becomes easier for him to move.
“try to add a second.” you tell him after a minute.
rafe nods, managing to work a second finger inside of you, but he can tell by the way your forehead scrunches that it’s not as comfortable as one, so he leans forward and presses his tongue against your clit.
“oh fuck!” you scream out as he flicks the tip of his tongue over and over, allowing you to focus on that instead of his fingers thrusting in and out of you.
rafe even makes a point to separate his fingers some, widening them to open you up even more. you don’t even flinch this time as his tongue stays playing with your clit.
“i’m ready.” you pant. “i’m ready, i need you rafe.”
rafe nods, moving to kneel between your legs, not sure what the best position to put you in is, but you seem to have it already thought out as you take a pillow and put it under your hips to raise them so he can stay kneeling on the bed.
rafe works his underwear off, and your eyes widen when his cock is revealed, regretting telling him you were ready after just two fingers. he grabs the condom he must have tossed onto the bed earlier and rips it open, sliding the latex down his length.
“if you need more time…” rafe trails off.
“just go slow.” you say, knowing he will stop at any point if you really need him to.
rafe moves closer, holding himself in his hand as he lines up with your entrance. his head pushes in easily, but the further forward his hips move, the more you struggle, but rafe sees it and slows down until he’s finally fully seated inside of you.
something sparks in that moment, realizing that you have both lost your virginity and it has rafe bending down over your body to press your lips together. you appreciate the kiss as it gives you even longer to adjust before rafe starts rocking into you slowly.
“that feels good.” you reassure rafe, all feelings of pain now gone.
“you feel good.” rafe says, unsure how he’s able to keep so much control over himself to not go feral in this moment, but he likes you too much, cares too much to move any faster and potentially cause you pain.
he keeps up the slow movements, moving from just rocking to actually thrusting as he starts to pull further out. 
“faster.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as you focus on his length inside of you.
rafe doesn’t question you, needing to move more himself as he begins to speed up his thrusts, pushing his hips forward harder as well.
“i-i’m sorry i don’t know much longer i’m going to last.” rafe admits.
“it’s okay just touch my clit again.” you say. you would do it yourself but your body feels weightless right now, and you’re not sure if you can raise your arms up.
rafe nods, gripping your hip with one hand but letting the other roam to your cunt, rubbing his thumb over your clit as he tries to hold back his orgasm as long as possible while still pushing his cock into your heat repeatedly.
you let out your moans with freedom, knowing that there is no one else in the house to hear you. rafe begins to grunt and you feel him swelling inside of you and you know that he’s close.
rafes body falls forward, his thumb still moving on your clit but his cock stilling as he cums, filling up the condom as he pants heavily.
“y/n!” rafe finishes with a call of your name. you are so close to your orgasm, and you surmise rafe must know as he stays inside of you, rubbing faster until you cum, your body arching off the mattress, even underneath rafes weight as your high hits you with a shout.
you manage to reach to push rafes hand away, needing the overwhelming pleasure on your clit gone as your orgasm works through your body.
rafe curses when your cunt pulsates around him, but waits until you’re done to pull out. he flops to the side, pulling the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan next to his nightstand.
“how does it feel to no longer be a virgin?” you ask.
“felt good to finally use that condom i’ve been keeping in my wallet since i turned 16.” rafe laughs, reaching his arm out to pull you closer to him. “but seriously, i’m glad i lost it with you.” “i’m glad too.” you smile, pressing a quick peck to his lip. “and maybe i should have asked you this before we had sex but… will you be my girlfriend?”
“oh my god, yes!” you squeal.
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roseykat · 6 months
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TITLE: Table Manners and Bible Studies
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PAIRING: Jeongin x reader
SUMMARY: Jeongin, a churchgoer who is also a very sexual person, likes to immerse both you and himself in the realm of sensory play, among other things as well.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
TAGS: themes of BDSM centred around sensory play, soft dom Jeongin, explicit language, use of ice cubes, body-safe hot candle wax, a feather, blindfold, safe and consensual play, nipple stimulated orgasm, mentions of religion (no specific religion is being mentioned here but the concept is that Jeongin is religious for the purposes of this work).
MASTERLIST
He goes to church. That’s all you know about one of the guys in your class who always dresses well, dons cute glasses and seems well put together. He’s an intriguing one among the masses of students that attend and even with the volume of people, he still stood out to you even if he was quiet.
However, it was never in your interest to approach a guy like him. He and his four friends, all from the same church, seemed relatively lovely and all kept to themselves. From your perspective, it appeared as if two of the girls really liked him. If they did, you don’t blame them. Whoever he was seemed to be sweet.
“Still eyeing him up?” Your friend Minho pokes you in the ribs with his finger, lulling you out of your thoughts.
“I’m not eyeing him up,” you snap defensively, averting your stare away from his group to refocus on your lunch with him.
“Just say he’s hot,” he encourages. “If I’m willing to admit it, then you should.”
“You think he’s hot?” 
“And you don’t?” He questions back, almost offended that you didn’t assume otherwise. 
“I suppose that means something coming from a whore such as yourself,” you remember with a sigh. 
Minho nods in agreement with your statement, “and as a whore, I’m telling you he’s hot. So why not go for him?” 
“That’s not who I want though,” you say to him.
A cackle nearly breaks out from his mouth, “that’s right. So how is the hunt for one of those dom boyfriends going anyway? Isn’t that the type you’re looking for?”
“He doesn’t have to be, but it would help significantly,” you answer truthfully. “I just think that would be the best way to get my foot in the door for getting into BDSM.”
“I seriously don’t know where you got that idea from, but you don’t need to go searching for a boyfriend who’s into BDSM to get into it,” Minho truthfully informs you. “There are sites and apps where you can connect to doms and go from there. But if you do, don’t just jump at the first dom that you see. Always do background checks.”
You sometimes forget that Minho himself is in the BDSM scene. He has been for a while and for as long as you’ve known him, you’ve always been interested in what he does. From his stories, they sound exciting and riveting; exactly the kind of thing you want to try out to make your sexual life a little more lively. 
“I know that,” you whine. “If not that, then I don’t really know where to begin.” 
“Well, we all start somewhere,” he says with a hint of optimism. “Since you’re interested still, there’s a BDSM convention at the end of this week. If you want to get your foot in the door with it, I reckon you should go.”
“A convention?” You ask with intruigue. “What do they host there?”
“They’re there to promote safe BDSM to people and have a variety of pop up stores on site that sell anything related to it,” he answers. “I’m supposed to be going but, I’ve got something else on at the same time. In fact you can have my concession.”
“Are you sure?” You ask.
“Yeah, it’s already printed off,” he says. “I’ll give it to you on Thursday.”
It was a good idea at first, but come the day of the event, your nerves were shot. It was your first time being surrounded by anything like this. Particularly by yourself. It was a bit stereotypical to assume that the convention was run something along the lines of seeing naked people tied up, some in cages, or live scenes taking place in front of crowds. 
That wasn’t the case at all. It was almost like a niche grocery store where the locals gather to buy homegrown fruit and veggies. Some part of that concept helped calm a few nerves.
Once you receive your concession band, you start around the front area of the pop-up stores. People were lining up to see demonstrations of shibari methods and most were interested in buying a series of items for the bedroom. 
They were all displayed like sea creatures at a fish market, waiting to be bought. From cattail butt plugs, clover nipple clamps, juicy erotica novels - one of which you picked up - lengths of different coloured ropes, wooden floggers, riding crops, and so much more. 
Away from all the chaos at the stalls was an area called BDSMC; BDSM and coffee. It was a way to set people up with potential doms and or subs. Each individual looking for a buddy would order a coffee or drink with a green cup that had either letter on it; D for dom or S for sub. Red cups were exclusively 'do not approach' because the person either didn’t want to engage or they may already have a partner and are just there for some good coffee. 
It was an awesome set-up and had you thinking about heading over to maybe find someone who would be interested. However, you stored away that thought as you continued to have a look around. 
One thing that was painfully obvious to you was the fact that people weren’t there by themselves. They were either there with a group or their partner, making you feel even more out of place and slightly overwhelmed. But you weren’t going to tap out early. Minho gave you his ticket not only because he couldn’t attend, but also because he wants you to experience what you’re looking for, for yourself.
So you scour out the stores under the guise of your own interest, coming across a few which struck that interest. There was one store tailored specifically to pain play, a heavy aspect of BDSM. Another stall had all to do with sexual health, consent and BDSM - not necessarily selling anything, but just there to answer any questions that people may have. 
One place had caught you attention, a store all to do with sensory play and deprivation - a term in which you’ve came across within the realm of research into BDSM.
In nicely orgasnised lines were individual packets of silk blindfolds in a variety of different colours. There were boxes of body safe candles, most likely for temperature play, noise cancelling headphones, sleek metal handcuffs, and other items that had you wondering how they work. 
“Hello, anything I can help you with or just browsing today?” One of the shop owners approaches you from behind the table. 
“Oh, just browsing thank you,” you reply back to her.
“No worries, let me know if you need anything,” she smiles back at you and walks down to the other end of the long table. 
“Hello, do you have any of these in black?” A person beside you asks to another store keeper. 
Out of sheer interest, you briefly look up at the person just as an unspoken social acknowledgement while the owner tends to their new customer. But to your absolute shock and surprise, the person enquiring happened to be someone very familiar.
The jet black hair, distinct glasses, the trendy casual outfit...
…there was no way.
“We should do. I’ll have a look around in some of our storage containers just behind the back for you,” she says helpfully. 
“Thank you,” the customer responds. 
It was definitely him, and whilst your eyes had been glued to his presence for such a long time, his gaze catches onto it. 
“Hey,” he spoke in a mousey volume.
You stall in your step a bit just as you were about to walk away to remain unknown, but the angelic purity in the tone of his voice lulled you back. You’d feel bad if you didn’t greet him too. 
“Hey,” you say to him awkwardly. “How are you?”
“I’m good thank you, yourself?” He asks back. 
“Yeah, good thanks. I know you, sort of. Aren’t you in my class?” 
It was a useless question to ask considering you’ve spent too many times looking at him to know that it’s definitely him. That distinct soft expression couldn’t pass you by. The only thing different is that he wasn't swarmed by his usual collective of friends.
A small smile spreads on his face, “yeah. I’ve seen you here and there. You usually sit close to the front.” 
“That’s right,” you nod, bewildered that he knows who you are and where you sit during class. “So…what brings you…here of all places?”
Jeongin shrugs with a smile, “interest. You?”
You nod, “also interest.”
The lady pops back from behind the screen with some items, “you might be out of luck. We’ve only got grey and white left but there’s a couples' one for you and your partner here.”
Your mind stutters upon hearing those words come out of the lady’s mouth, “oh he’s not - we’re not-“
“What about any more of these? Preferably in black as well?” Jeongin picks up a baby pink coloured blindfold and presents it to the woman. He seemed to have saved that awkward statement yet wasn’t entirely effected by it as you were.
“I’ll have a look around the back again and see if we’ve got anything,” she says, quickly rushing off.
“Sorry about that,” he says apologetically to her. 
He was as nice as he looked. Almost like a gentle, placid puppy which makes you wonder, how is someone like him at one of these conventions. Specifically, someone who is quite religious. You didn’t want to judge right away, but that was the preface of your observation.
“I take it you’ve never been to one of these before,” he points out as he waits. 
Your shoulders relax defeatedly, someone had finally ripped down your facade, “can you tell?”
“Just a little bit,” he grins. “But props to you for coming here on your own by the looks of it.”
“A friend of mine recommended I go so I thought I should,” you respond, eyeing up some of the other products.
He nods engagingly, “really? Why did they recommend it to you if you don’t mind me asking?” 
“Just…looking to get into BDSM,” you reply honestly, feeling comfortable enough to talk to him about this. Plus there was no point in hiding your intentions given where you are now. “He said I should go to one of these events, check out the stores, and see how some of this stuff works I suppose.” 
The lady returns from the back with exactly what he requested while also picking up a few extra things before paying for the lot. Your attention fixates on those items, wondering who he uses them on; a pyrex glass dildo, one tube of strawberries and cream flavoured lube, and also a ball gag
Whoever his partner is must be lucky. 
The shopkeeper bags all of the items he paid for in a discrete bag before he thanks her.
“That's a good step, but if you’re a beginner, it’d be best for you to start out small,” he advises just an idea suddenly strikes him. He wonders for a second about whether or not it’s appropriate to ask, but he considers your circumstances and why you’re even here. 
“I figured that. No point in me diving right into the deep end when I can’t swim yet,” you agree. 
“You know, because we’re both here, we should get together sometime so we can talk about these kinds of things. I could show you how all of these work too if you want,” he pitches his suggestion to you, holding up the bag of things that he just purchased. 
You stare up at him, utterly bewildered, “wait, are you serious?”
“Only if you are, otherwise-“
“No!” You cut him off. “I mean, yes - yes I am serious. It’s just, I was shocked that you even asked me.”
He stifles a chuckle as a reaction to you being so oddly yet unforceably cute, “alright then. I’ll give you my number. I’m Jeongin by the way.”
“Jeongin, okay. I’m Y/N.”
It was nice to finally put a name to a handsome face. Jeongin, who was as unsuspecting as the come, had exchanged numbers with you before you both departed. He left you wondering so much more about his personality and particularly his interests with BDSM. It even made you forget to text Minho to tell him how well the convention went.
Right before you decided that you were going to ring him, a text came through to you from Jeongin. 
To you from Jeongin: ‘Hey Y/N, it’s Jeongin. It was nice meeting you the other day. I was wondering if you wanted to catch up over coffee to talk and get to know each other more. If so, when are you free?’
You to Jeongin: ‘Hey Jeongin, it was nice meeting you as well. I’m free in the afternoons throughout the week. We could go for coffee on campus after class if it’s not too far?’
Jeongin to You: ‘Nope, that’s perfect. Shall we say Monday straight after? We can head there together.’
You to Jeongin: ‘Sounds good to me. See you then.’
Jeongin to You: ‘Yup! :)’
With those responses from him in mind, it made looking forward to Monday a little more palatable. Usually, it’s hectic with quizzes, tonnes of readings, and a boring two hour lecture. Meeting up with Jeongin meant you had something to look forward to after class. 
Just as the lecture comes to an end, you look back to the middle row of seats in the centre section of the room as you pack up your things and see Jeongin waving out to you. You wave back, acknowledging that you’ve seen him and watch him say bye to his friends before he makes his way down to you. A couple of them seemed rather puzzled that he was leaving them, but nonetheless, they let him be. 
“Hey Y/N,” he says to you, walking down the steps. “What did you think of that?”
“Boring as per,” you groan. “It made me want to sleep.”
Jeongin laughed, “shall we go before you fall asleep then?”
The pair of you exited the theatre together and headed to one of the nearby cafes on campus. Normally teeming with hungry students, the venue wasn’t as packed as it usually is from the help of classes that run through into lunch. It meant that you and Jeongin were able to receive your drinks relatively quickly in order to sit down and start talking.
“How was your weekend?” He asks you.
You finish bringing your drink down from your lips, “not as exciting as I wished it had been. Mainly just catching up on some of the online work that we were meant to do.”
Jeongin is shaking his head but silently agreeing with you, “I don’t know why they bother giving us tasks to do online.”
“I suppose to make us suffer even more,” you guess. 
“I think you might be right, and since it’s worth credit, we have no choice,” he snickers. “But anyway, on a completely different note, what did you think of your first BDSM event?” 
“Not as daunting as I was expecting it to be,” you answer honestly. “It was pretty pleasant, to say the least, and the people I met were really nice.”
“That’s good to know,” Jeongin nods. “Usually I hear of beginners who get too overwhelmed and never come back. It’s a shame really because they only see the tip of the iceberg.”
“Do you normally attend those events?” You ask him, still immensely intrigued that he even went in the first place. 
“Only when I can,” he responds. “Most of the time, classes and other stuff get in the way, but I’ve found a balance now. What made you want to get into BDSM anyway?”
“A friend of mine is well into that space and I always hear him talking about it. Since then it’s always interested me, so I started doing some research about it,” you answer. “It was the same person who told me to go to that event.”
“Smart choice for doing your research, not many people do and just head straight into something they don’t know,” Jeongin mentally applauds you. “It can turn out to be a really good or really terrible experience for beginners.”
“Yeah, he warned me about that,” you chuckle, just thinking of Minho and what he’s said to you in the past. “What about you? How did you get into BDSM? Sounds like you’re already in that space.”
“I am. I’ve been in it for four years, since the start of my degree,” Jeongin confirms adjusting his black glasses. “I got into it just by interest as well - similar to you, except, I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing someone who was already part of this space so some things I had to learn the hard way.” 
“Then I take it that you’re relatively experienced then,” you respond, inferring an assumption already.
Jeongin smiles shyly, almost like he’s somewhat embarrassed by your comment, “you could say that. Is it right to assume that you’re looking for someone to do scenes with?”
You give a nod, “yes. Just…didn’t know who with.”
“That fits then; given that I have some experience and you haven’t yet, then maybe we do a trial, see if we click, those sorts of aspects. What do you think about that?” He asks you. 
An excitement thumps against your chest, “I think that’s a good idea.”
“Yeah?” He replies with optimism. “Then if it’s okay with you, do you maybe want to talk about some of your kinks and things that you don’t like and organise a time and place for our first scene?” 
“I’d love to.” 
Both you and Jeongin brought a lot of ideas to the table, conducting a healthy discussion about what you’re both into and not. Although he openly stated to you that he mainly presents himself as a dom, he was open to switching too. However, for the purpose of getting you into the swing of BDSM, it would be best for him to take the reins.
So with a little more talking, you both came up with a set date and time for the first scene which was to be at Jeongin’s place; not too far from campus. All the information and the logistics leading up to the scene were slightly nerve-wracking but didn’t match your level of excitement. 
Considering your inexperience with BDSM, Jeongin had to factor in what would be the best method of easing you into things. Sensory play was the one thing that came to mind. It’s not too extreme, can involve some restraints, and can act as a good stepping stone for a BDSM beginner. 
“It’s a good way to start off,” Jeongin said to you back at the cafe. “If it’s just sensory play only, people don’t usually climax from it. But if there’s some sort of sexual penetration that’s involved, then most likely. I don’t do the latter.”
“Still sounds like fun,” you replied.
“It is. I can deprive you of one or more of your senses which will only enhance the other.”
His way of describing the basics of sensory play could’ve easily put you to sleep – not because it was boring, but because his voice was so silky smooth that you could listen to it all day. The fact that he has so much knowledge about a subject was strangely erotic.
With your mind cleared in preparation for the scene, Jeongin flicks you a text an hour beforehand to see if you are still keen. He definitely knows that you are, but it’s also to cover his end as a dom to ensure that you know that you can pull out of the scene before it starts. 
To You from Jeongin: Hey Y/N, still on for tonight? 
From you to Jeongin: ‘Hey! Absolutely, I’ll text you when I’m at yours?’
To You from Jeongin: ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
Even if you didn’t want to go through with it tonight, Jeongin would be okay with that. For whatever reason why you would say no, he’s happy that you would feel safe to refuse. But never in your wildest dreams would you ever think of refusing, because as soon as it was time to leave, there was no doubt in your mind that you would turn back.
You had showered and packed a bag with a towel, extra clothes in case, a water bottle, and some snacks. If anyone were to come up to you and look into your duffle, their only thought would be that you’re heading to a gym nearby, not heading to your first BDSM scene. It was a nice little secret to have. 
As you arrive on the street of Jeongin’s apartment, you text him to say that you’re nearly there and knock on the door once you’ve officially made it.
“Hey,” he greets with his smiley usual self. “Come in.”
“Hey,” you respond, looking around as you step in. 
It was rather spacious which is usually not generous with student accommodation. Normally it’s one room cramped with a desk, chair, inadequate storage underneath the single bed and a community bathroom down the hall. By the looks of it, Jeongin had all this space to himself including a small bathroom and mini kitchenette area. 
“Wow, you got lucky with student housing around here.”
“Can’t stress the word ‘lucky’ enough,” Jeongin emphasises, closing the door behind you as you take your shoes off. “Took me about four months last year just to apply for a viewing. But after living in shared accommodation on campus, I needed my own space.”
“Fair enough,” you say. “Some student spaces are lucky enough to have wallpaper. But anyway.”
“Would you like something to eat or drink?” He offers. “I bought food earlier on.”
“No it’s okay thank you, I made sure to have some water and food before the scene,” you politely refuse. 
“Okay, good,” Jeongin nods, impressed even. Those who forget to eat before a scene will often find that their energy depletes faster, rendering them unable to continue or even worse, it could go hand in hand with a sub drop. “Then in that case, shall we get started?”
Your stomach flips excitedly, “sounds good to me.”
Jeongin does the honours of leading you to his bedroom. It’s adorned with a minimalistic aesthetic and beautiful muted tones. There’s a decent queen-sized bed centred back against the wall. Laid on top of its surface is a black cardboard box and a set of black restraints right beside it in contrast with the white fitted duvet. Flickering on the bedside table burned a red candle.
From what you could gather, it was most likely for wax play, but it smelt amazing. Almost a woody with a tinge of floral essence to it that filled his room.
“We can start the scene by taking your clothes off and I’ll get these restraints ready, okay?” Jeongin suggests to you. 
“Okay.” 
He steps over towards the mattress, picking up the long restraints. Only two – one for each of your wrists that he was going to link to the bedposts. He secures the ends of them in place while you strip yourself down to your bra and underwear. You fold them over your arms as Jeongin returns to carefully take them from you and places them on his chair in the corner of the room. 
He comes back once he’s done, eyeing up your body. It’s not that he meant to gawk or observe you per se, but he was in fact silently appreciating your body. He could only just hide the fact that he’s very taken with how you look and the way you pull off a simple black bra and underwear set. 
It wasn’t lingerie, but they were intricated pieces. Jeongin seems to be aware of that when you feel him delicately glide his fingertips down the straps of your bra from behind while you stare into his mirror on the wall. 
“This is is pretty,” he says. 
You swallow quietly, content with his observation, “yeah?” 
“Yes, but unfortunately I need it off for this scene. Is that okay with you?” He asks. 
“That’s okay,” you reply clearly.
“Okay then, what’s your colour?”
“Green.” 
With your given consent in mind, Jeongin works behind your back to unclasp your bra and places it with the rest of your clothes. It’s not an awkward moment for either of you given that it was nothing in comparison to the things he had planned for you. 
“Beautiful,” he comments, his eyes lingering for a few seconds too long in the mirror. Your cheeks instantly become hotter, hoping Jeongin can just hurry up and put the blindfold over your eyes so you don’t have to look at him. “Let’s move to the bed. I’ll get you to lie down so I can put the restraints on your wrists.” 
On his instruction, you make your way over to his bed after he moves the black box to the nightstand. You sit down on the mattress edge and prop your legs up until you’re able to lie down flat with your head on his pillow.
Jeongin slightly manoeuvres each of your arms before strapping your wrists into the restraints and for a couple of seconds there, you’re in your own mind. It still baffles you that you struck gold with Jeongin by absolute chance. Not to mention he’s the same person who attends church and goes to bible studies and is the same person who’s tying you to his bed. 
“Not too tight?” He checks in with you. 
“Nope, that’s fine,” you reply. 
Jeongin takes the lid off of the box on the side and takes out the silk black blindfold he purchased from the convention the other day, “okay, I’m going to place the blindfold over your eyes now.”
You nod as total darkness shields you from the predictable. Now you can’t see what’s coming next. The excitement and anticipation hinder all nervousness you’ve been feeling while Jeongin takes a moment to appreciate the state that you’re in. It’s not often for him to be so taken with a person to the point where he just about forgets what he’s doing.
Only then does he realise that he’s in a scene and needs to refocus. 
Once he’s content with everything, he decides to move on, “now we can start.” 
He goes back to the box, careful not to make too much sound so that you can’t grasp a hint of what might be inside. The first item he picks up is a long, spindly black feather. It’s simple yet very effective, responsible for creating that ticklish sensation when he dances it lightly and softly along your skin. On its first contact, your nerves try to anticipate where Jeongin will take the feather next, but their guesses come up short when he uses it somewhere else. 
The feather glides from the base of your throat, downwards and in between your tits. Jeongin then uses it to delicately lick over your nipple, making you keen slightly to one side. You can’t help but suppress a moan by biting down on your lip. It shouldn’t feel this good too early, but you can’t help your body’s natural reaction to the feather that leaves tingles in your muscles throughout its wake. 
The smile on Jeongin’s face indicates that he’s enjoying watching you squirm and quietly whimper, still teasing you with the black plume. He drags it from the tips of your toes, up your shin, and right over your clothed pussy, making you press your head back into the pillow. 
Jeongin makes a mental note of that reaction and smirks. To him, those small effects of what he’s doing to your body with only a feather, make him wonder how sensitive you really are. But it’s not his whole desire to spend too much time with it and proceeds to move on to something else; the hot wax. 
After placing the previous item in the box, Jeongin swaps it for the candle. The catcher has collected a substantial amount of wax at the bottom which will allow him to pour the majority of it out before it starts to solidify. But Jeongin stalls for a moment as he tries to make up his mind on where to pour first. 
In his opinion, he wants to cover all the sensitive parts that you’ll let him. Your tits, collarbone, throat, tummy, wherever. Eventually, however, he knows he’ll get to those places. So he starts with your tummy, watching the hot wax drip and dribble onto your skin, hardening as it makes contact. 
A gasp is forced out of your mouth, “s-shit-“
“Too hot?” Jeongin asks you, pulling back the candle before he goes to pour again. 
“N-No,” you shake your head fervently. “J-Just wasn’t expecting-"
Jeongin pours a steady line of wax in between your tits, prying your mouth open for slightly quiet yet strained moans to roll from the base of your throat.
He expects you to have some sort of reaction to the hot wax, but not like this. Usually, people try to escape from the head, some swear like sailors, and others might scream or yelp. You on the other hand…it makes him wonder if you’re a masochist with the way you’re moaning from the slight pain. 
Nonetheless, he drips more wax, this time down your abdomen, forcing you to purse your lips to suppress any sound.
Despite the temperature of the thick content, your brain, for whatever reason, deduces it as a good sensation rather than a bad one. It does burn a bit, but not to the point where you feel like you need to call for a break. That feeling when it settles into the skin where it’s magnificent and warm is too good to pass up, allowing you to keep going.
With the session barely in full swing, you’re trying to keep it together for Jeongin so that hopefully he’d invite you back for another. Yet, within the second you even start thinking about that, Jeongin pours some of the wax, just about the line of your underwear, making you tug hard on the restraints. 
“Fuck – oh my god,” you groan, feeling the heat emulsify within your lower half. It spreads beautifully, just where you want it. “That feels…” 
“Good?” Jeongin asks, making your back arch slightly when he drips more wax from your sternum to just above your belly button. There are some areas that he won’t cover with the wax since he wants enough sensitive space for the next part of the scene. 
“Y-Yes.” 
Since Jeongin has some verbal confirmation from you that the heat feels good, his indication of pinning you for being a masochist grows stronger. It’s not abnormal, but it’s rare. Not everyone is a fan of pain and some even find it confusing when it’s applied in the bedroom.
That’s not Jeongin though. He appreciates pain and pleasure in a controlled environment. In saying that, he cannot make a full observation of whether or not you’re a full-blown masochist. He’d need to actually ask you first and run other ‘tests’ to achieve a result. 
In light of the pain, Jeongin makes use of the little wax he has left, steadily pouring it onto the underside of your tits – close to where you want it. When there’s no content left at the bottom of the catcher, he moves on once more. This time, to a completely opposite temperature. 
He sets the candle back down on the nightstand, leaving it to continue burning so that the aroma fills the room rather than smoke if he were to blow it out. You then hear his footsteps shuffling around to the other side of the bed, making you wonder what it is that he’s doing. But despite tuning your ears into his every movement, Jeongin makes sure to be as careful as he can to ensure that you don’t know what’s coming next. 
The one thing that you hadn’t noticed in his room the second you walked in was a mini tin bucket of ice cubes on the other side of his bed. He gave away zero hints towards his next move, so when he quietly picked up one of the cubes and immediately placed it just above your tits, you suck in a huge gasp. 
“Geez, I wasn’t ready,” you sigh out some of the anticipation that’s building inside of you. 
Jeongin smiles, “good.” 
The areas of your body that are free from the hardened wax allow him to glide the ice cube gently over your skin. The temperature in comparison to the wax is electrifying, more so than what you ever would have anticipated – had you known it was coming. 
Jeongin watches the ice cubes melt from your body heat, seeing the droplets of water pool for a second and run down your sides. When the first cube has melted down completely, Jeongin picks up another. This time, he drags it slowly above the band of your underwear again. 
“Mm! Fuck…” you exclaim loudly, trying to conduct the sensation when it only just builds. “S-Sorry.” 
“You’re okay,” Jeongin reassures you. 
He then brings the ice cube up to one of your nipples, causing you to arch your back and tug on the restraints simultaneously as a sharp gasp leaves your mouth. The corners of Jeongin’s mouth perk up at your reaction. He doesn’t want to be too predictable and switch to your other nipple. Instead, he manages to pick up another ice cube and uses it on your other nipple, dancing it around your sensitive buds that have begun to stiffen and perk up.
Your poor brain is confused by the stimulation. It’s not happening between your legs but you can feel it from your chest. It feels weird not to be contracting around anything, which only makes you wish you were. Nonetheless, it’s still valid stimulation that you feel building and at first, you’re not sure if it’s an orgasm that’s forming or if it just feels good. 
Regardless of the matter, you can’t help it. It’s patterning the pleasure for you to experience without you having any say in it whatsoever. Your mind is muddled with what to say – how to express how you feel or what’s happening to your body. 
Jeongin has some idea of it now that he’s been listening to you panting and watching you writhe on his bed just from a couple of ice cubes. However, he wants to see how this plays out. 
“J-Jeongin,” you mumble, sucking in small breaths of air. “I’m…”
His ears spring up at the sound of his name, but he refrains from saying anything at all. Instead, he picks up another ice cube, allowing the one in his left hand to melt away before applying the fresh one. The chilly sensation replenishes but it doesn’t stop that sensation that you can feel in your tits all the way through to your pussy. Even though it feels similar to an orgasm, it triggers zero verbal response when it decides to hit you out of nowhere. 
Jeongin sees your mouth part, your legs bracketing together like they’re trying to find something to clamp around. All the while, he doesn’t stop stimulating your nipples with the cubes until your back is flat on his bed again. He had to see it through to the end. 
Breathless and slightly dazed as you were, the first thing that came to mind was that you did in fact cum. Following that came anxiously wondering what Jeongin’s reaction was.
At that, an invisible weight of embarrassment starts tugging you down. You wanted the blindfold to remain over your eyes, terrified of meeting whatever expression was laden on Jeongin’s face. There was no point in trying to gauge how he reacted when you orgasmed, but there was one thing for sure and that was he didn’t stop you from doing it. 
A few lingering moments later, Jeongin becomes satisfied with the tail end of the scene. He got through the aspects of sensory play that you both wanted to cover from the conversation you had at the beginning of the week.
He gently removes the silk blindfold from your eyes, fixing some of your hair in the process to get it out of your eyes. Even though your eyes shy away from his face, Jeongin can easily see the deep red burning through your cheeks. 
“I’ll get these off for you,” Jeongin murmurs, already freeing one of your wrists from the restraint before moving on to the other.
Once you’re completely unrestricted, you sit up straight away and start blabbing out an explanation to him. 
“Just so you know, I didn’t have other intentions going into this,” you speak quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting to…to-“
Slightly taken aback, Jeongin had to step in to reassure you that there’s nothing wrong, “Y/N, it’s okay, seriously. It’s not your fault that your body couldn’t help but do what it needed to. But you’ve just come out of a scene and I want to make sure that you’re ok-“
“Yes but, you said the other day that people don’t usually climax from sensory play only,” you interrupt him. 
He softens a bit, a small grin forming on his face, “I said ‘usually’ not ‘never’. I didn’t rule out that possibility.” 
You suddenly click onto his words, “so there is a possibility that they still can.” 
“Yes, but you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about or sorry for. Some people can orgasm through nipple stimulation. It’s not always easy, but you managed to do it, with ice too, and relatively fast. Plus, I thought it was cute,” he responds. 
‘Cute?’ If melting from embarrassment was a thing, you’d be a puddle all over his floor. Your face comes to fall into your hands, almost making him giggle. 
Jeongin then continues, “now, if you’ll let me help you, I’ll show you to the shower to get some of the wax off. Then we can have some of that food I was talking about earlier.” 
-
A/N: again, this was meant for Kinktober but my dumb ass didn’t upload it. I’m turning this into a bit of a slow burn series, but not just yet because I’m working on other things atm as listed down below:
1. Noxious Compulsions
Minsung x reader (you can find the snippet here)
2. Foul Play
Part 2 to Don’t bite the hand that feeds you
3. Venom Eater
Part 2 to Venom Biter
4. Some things are better left known
Part 2 to ‘Some things are better left unknown’
These are the main pieces that I’m working on at the moment bc they will be quite dense, and I try to add as much detail in as I can. However, there are 100% other things that I have still sitting in my Doc’s folder that I’ll release too!
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