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earlier i was watching revenge of the sith and ended up having like. not a flashback but getting triggered heavily bc of the scene where anakin chokes padmé. for fairly obvious reasons, since i have trauma around choking and it triggers me like, whether written or on tv or whatever. i felt really embarrassed bc revenge of the sith is at many points Deeply Unserious (i actually laughed myself sick at palpatine zapping mace windu), but i managed to calm down a little and am kind of like. recuperating. i’m incredibly exhausted, though, physically and emotionally, because like, ptsd is exhausting bro idk what to say. it’s bad seeing something that makes you relive a violent experience like that.
i also now get to be really pissed, which is the reason i’m making this post 🥰 I was on twitter (probably my first mistake) and saw someone complaining about how people are Weird Kinkshaming Puritans who object to certain fic and then they went on to say “NORMAL people don’t get triggered by FICTION. You need to be able to tell the difference between REAL AND FAKE.” not even fucking “it’s bad to criticize someone for writing something solely bc it had a trigger of yours in it” but just straight up “people with ptsd are morons who cannot tell fiction from reality.” Like shut your fucking big mouth you dipshit im not fucking stupid. I know fucking star wars characters are not real. that’s not how triggers fucking work!!! it just reminded me of the VERY REAL time i was violently assaulted!!! Jesus none of these fucking AO3 fandom moms have any goddamn human compassion
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—1-800-ʙᴀɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴅꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ !
(Dark! Dbf! Anakin Skywalker x fem! Reader)
𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: your parents leave you home alone to tend to the christian faith. It’s a good thing that your daddy’s friend is there to help you atone !
୨୧ Content warning . Dubious consent (reader is naive, but consents), blasphemy & strong religious themes, manipulation, baby trapping? age gap (reader is of in her 20s), weird incest names but they aren’t actually related // innocence kink, god complex, loss of virginity, size kink, oral, pnv, missionary + full nelson position
Disclaimer: I am not religious, though I do know there are people that are. pls block if it bothers you! This is solely fiction and not meant to offend anyone, and I don’t condone using religion as a way to manipulate or hurt others. Thanks! ⋆。˚ ⋆
Your parents leaving you alone is honestly a scary experience.
Although it’s fun (having the house to yourself means having the large flat screen tv in the living room), you’ve come to find that at night you’re quite afraid of the dark. And of course, your family has left on an adult-only Christian retreat and has left you home alone.
Sure, you’re more than old enough. But you haven’t been exactly… exposed to the world around you. So the idea of monsters and demons filling the dark corners of your home, it becomes even more prominent.
You try to concentrate on your bible, try to read through the verses where God tells you to fear no evil, but the paranoia is creeping in on your cold spine like a winter’s chill. You try to listen to music, too, to drown out the whispers you hear in the night.
But to no avail.
You decide that you have no choice but to call the only contact that’s available to you.
Anakin is your godfather, in the sense that he’s your father’s best friend. He’s always been around, and he’s always helped you with your studies. Anakin— uncle Ani, as you sometimes call him, lives less than a few blocks away. He always tells you that if you need him, he’ll be there. So it wouldn’t hurt to ring him up, right?
Pressing the dial on your phone, you type in his number with ease. Biting your thumb nail you wait for him to answer. He picks up on the third ring.
“Y/N? Is everything okay?”
You smile at his voice, the one that always gives you that tingly feeling in your stomach. You suspect that it’s because he’s your favorite person.
“Everything’s fine, Ani. Are you at work?”
“It’s a Saturday, isn’t it?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Then I’m off work, sweetheart,” he replies softly, and then you get that tingly feeling again. “Why did you decide to call?”
It’s not in the sense that he’s annoyed— he’s genuinely curious. You nervously rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.
“Well—“ you start, embarrassed. “Mom and dad are out, ‘n— it’s dark.”
“Dark?”
“It’s—“ you can feel tears beginning to form in your eyes as the wind creaks outside. “I don’t like it, Ani. I don’t wanna be alone in here... Please come.”
Anakin’s cock presses against his zipper at the sound of your whiny, desperate voice. He palms his bulge through his slacks.
“Yeah, baby. ‘Course I’ll come,” he pauses. “Just gotta do something first, okay? Then I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
You sniffle, the tears beginning to fall now.
“Okay. ‘M sorry.”
“For what? Don’t apologize to me sweetheart. Just wait there.”
—
A good forty minutes later Anakin is there, and when you open the door for him you latch onto him like a leech— your hands wrap around his waist, your bury your face into his fit chest, and you whimper against him as he coos gentle reassurances to you.
“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Ani’s here.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
He brings you over to the couch, sitting you on the cushion beside him as he looks down at your pink bible. He notes that you use the wooden cross necklace he had bought you for your nineteenth birthday as a bookmark.
“Been readin’?” He notes, looking down at the opened pages. You’ve been highlighting some verses, and next to this book there’s another: Christianity for Girls.
“Mhm.”
Anakin picks it up with idle hands. He flips to the first chapter.
“C’mere. Want me to read to you?”
“Yes, sir.” You reply, and with a gentle flick to your hair you begin to climb into his lap. It’s not uncommon for you to do this— he’s so comfy and warm. Even though sometimes the things in his pocket tend to poke against your bottom, you don’t mind. It’s worth it if Ani has his big arms wrapped around you.
He grunts as you settle down on him— his cock twitches as he feels your panties hit his lap. Your skirt is covered just enough to not expose you, but it still rides up as you sit down. His hand grips your thigh, and with the other he settles the book in his palm.
“Chapter 1,” he clears his throat. “Rules.”
Well, okay. If you say so.
“Girls should always follow their faith in God.”
Fair enough.
You nod along, as he reads the next.
“Girls should go to church every Sunday.” He smirks, turning to you. “Do you go to church every Sunday?”
“Of course! I love church.”
Anakin chuckles, flipping to the next page and adjusting himself from underneath you.
“Rule number three,” he says. His voice hesitates as he reads the next line, then he awkwardly clears his throat. “No premarital sex.”
Your brows furrow, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. “What’s that?”
He sucks in a breath, his cock beginning to become hard for a second time today.
“Sex? It’s—“
“No, no,” you giggle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “I meant— I know what sex is, Ani. Sort of. But.. what is premarital sex?”
“It’s sex before marriage. Doing it with someone you aren’t going to devote yourself to.”
“Oh.” You twiddle your fingers, eyes averting down to look at the ink splattered pages. “But— if you do it with someone you’re going to devote yourself to, without being married anyway, isn’t that still non premarital? I mean, in a way, you are married…sort of.”
Anakin shrugs, resting his head on your shoulder. You try to ignore how the closeness of his breath makes you tingle.
“Dunno, honey. I guess so. Never thought of it that way.”
You nod, wiggling around on his lap to get more comfortable. Anakin’s fingers grab your hips with a firm hand.
“Have you ever done it?” You ask. “Premarital sex, I mean.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle. Something in him is breaking apart, all these years of pent up sexual frustration for you beginning to come to a head as his resolve crumbles.
“Yes. Many times,” he coincides. “With a lot of people I didn’t care about. I shouldn’t of done that. It’s bad.”
Your face fills to the brim with heat, as the tension in the room grows incredibly thick. Your eyes widen when you feel him hump against your clothed cunt.
“What about you, baby?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. “Have you done it?”
You stutter, hesitating, and that’s when Anakin gets his answer.
“Right. ‘Course you haven’t,” and then, quietly, as if to himself, “Too precious for those little boys…”
You let out a small sound in the back of your throat, that tingly feeling growing evermore prominent. You don’t know why you’re feeling this way. Maybe it’s the heat in the room, maybe it’s your claustrophobia.
Or maybe, you think, it’s the devil.
White hot heat coils in your private parts, and you try to get off of Anakin to get rid of feeling. He tsks, grabbing your hips and shoving you back into his lap. You whine, hands gripping is in an attempt to get away.
“Ani.. c’mon—“
“Do you touch yourself?” He asks darkly. You let out a little gasp. “Do you touch your princess parts, sweetheart?”
You shake your head, almost too quickly, and can’t help but press your thighs together. Anakin is having none of it.
“Liar,” he hisses. “You have. Don’t lie to me, little girl. I know when you’re lying to me.”
“I’m sorry!” You whimper against his harsh grip. “I-I stopped! I did, I really did, and I’ve been meaning to repent and atone for my sins but I haven’t yet…please, uncle Ani.”
Tears of shame begin to fall from your eyes, wet and salty. You let out a little cry. Anakin softens a bit, his grip on you loosening. He wraps his arms around your tummy and quietly shushes you.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, angel, I know you didn’t mean to,” he coos, as your hands move around to rest in the locks of his hair. “Sensitive baby. I know it’s hard not to touch yourself down there. ‘S okay.”
“Promise?” You sniffle, turning your head to look into his eyes. He smiles.
“I promise.”
Your eyes innocently move down to his lips, that feeling growing inside even more.
“Ani..” you whisper. “It’s.. I want to.. to touch myself again. I don’t know how to control it…”
He strokes your hair out of your face with his fingers, cooing again.
“It’s okay,” and then, after a moment, with his cock pressed flush against your cunt, “I can help. Do you want me to?”
“But.. isn’t that premarital sex?”
He presses a kiss against your earlobe.
“You love me, don’t you? And I know I love you. So isn’t that marital sex?”
Your brain has turned into a puddle. Softly, you whisper out, “yes.”
He smiles against your skin, his hands sliding up past the expanse of your thighs.
“There’s something they don’t tell you about sex,” he murmurs. “When you let the man you love inside you, it’s a way to celebrate god. You become one with god.” He quirks a brow, watching you listen closely to him. “And you atone. Don’t you want to atone, baby?”
Your doe eyes look up at him, and you nod. He grins, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His thumb pulls the flesh of your bottom lip down and he watches it bounce back against your teeth.
“Why don’t you give me a kiss? Hm, pretty?”
And just like that, he’s got you. Your lips, ever so softly, come up to peck his. He smiles.
“Again.”
And you do kiss him again. Only this time, he presses hard into your mouth and it’s not long before his hands are tangling in your hair and he’s rubbing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s all surreal, this man below you, his cock hard. You don’t know that, of course. Pulling away from him, you have a confused look on your face.
“What’s always in your pocket? ‘S poking me.”
Anakin doesn’t say anything. He just laughs at you, and leans in for more of your kisses. You get too lost in the feeing of his hands massaging your inner thighs to press him for an answer. But you find out soon enough when you feel him push your hand down into the front of his pants. Letting out a small squeak you feel the warm skin of his cock, and something tugs at your lower tummy again.
“Oh.” you say softly, understanding. It was never something in his pocket— it was him.
“Feel what you did to me?” Anakin huffs out, as he guides your hand up and down on his length. “That’s my cock, baby. It’s what happens when I get really excited to see you.”
A small smile grazes your features at the thought of Anakin liking your presence. A whole lot, it seems, because his body is physically reacting. He grunts when you squeeze his length out of curiosity.
“Does it hurt?” You murmur, watching him.
“Not at all,” he coincides, adjusting you on his lap. “Feels good.“
And okay, that’s even better. Now you’re making Anakin feel good. Pride floods your chest. Watching him, you feel his precum drip down your fist.
“Can I see it?”
Your voice surprises him, and he’s nodding so quickly that it seems like he might break his neck.
“‘Course, pretty girl, can watch it all day if you want to…” looking at you hungrily, he mutters in a soft tone, “C’mere, get on your knees.”
Confusion muddles your brain, but not as much as the ache to please him. You crawl off of his lap, and he takes one of the couch pillows and places it on the floor.
“Sit.” He commands, and you rest your knees on the pillow and your small hands on his big thighs.
He unbuttons his fly, then his zipper. His bulge is straining against his briefs, a wet patch on the front from his arousal. Gulping, you watch as he pulls his pants and underwear all the way down and slips them off.
His length springs free, dripping with pre and insanely long. Your eyes widen as you watch it, wondering: where does it go?
Okay. So, you have a vague idea of where it’s supposed to go— somewhere in you, but you don’t know where. But either way, you know for for a fact that wherever that is isn’t adjustable enough for such a big thing. Your face floods with embarrassment.
“Where do I…” you start, quiet. Anakin furrows a brow, grabbing his cock into his palm.
“Where do you what?”
You avoid his gaze.
“Where do I.. put it?”
A smile quirks on the man’s lips, stroking himself to the sight of your pretty face peering at his cock.
“Your mouth, sometimes. But especially where you touch yourself, angel. Your cunt.” He tilts his head, not shaming you but trying to explain. “Do you know what your cunt is?”
You shyly nod, knowing that that’s what some of the boys around town called that spot where you touch yourself. And now, feeling this odd tingle inside you, it all makes perfect sense. It wants Ani inside.
But you frown at him.
“It won’t fit,” you say sadly. “‘S too big”
“It’ll fit, honey. Just have to stretch you first.”
Stretch you? That sounds painful! Fear courses through you.
“Stretch me?” You say worriedly.
Anakin seems amused by your reaction.
“It’ll only hurt a little, then it’ll feel really good,” he explains. “I promise. Don’t you trust me?”
Your head moves up and down, and you know that it’s true. He smiles softly, and then he’s tapping your lip with his finger.
“Open,” he says.
Your parted mouth falls completely open, pink tongue lolling out as he places the tip of his cock on it. It takes you by surprise, and your lashes flutter as his taste evades your senses. It’s an odd flavor— not too bad, but not too good either. Though, the thought of it being from Ani makes it all worth while. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, the wet muscle making a plopping sound as his stringy precum creates a small puddle in your mouth. He watches, proud, and he praises you in the most gentle tone he can muster.
“Good girl. Such a pretty mouth, can’t wait to cum inside it…”
And that makes your eyes shut tight as you let out a loud whine, knowing that his cum is another delicious fluid that you will happily drink up soon. His cock guides itself even more into your mouth, the cockhead disappearing in between your plush lips. You use your mouth gently, treating his cock with care, not wanting to hurt your uncle Ani. He grunts when you swirl your tongue around him.
“Mmm,” he breathes. “Lick it, baby. Like an ice cream cone… yeahhh. Just like that, sweet girl.”
You hollow your cheeks around his mushroomed head, your brain becoming fuzzy at the feeling of his length moving in and out of your mouth. Suckling him, he’s soft and warm on your tongue.
You do this for quite some time. Anakin’s thrusts speed up, and he makes you take more and more and more. When you choke on him for the first time he tells you that it’s okay— “just get through it, baby, don’t you wanna be good for me?” And of course you do, because it’s Ani, and he’s really handsome and he smells really nice and his hands are so big as they card themselves through your hair. You can’t get enough and you’re almost angry he hadn’t shown you this sooner. Your vision is dizzy as he uses your mouth.
On a particularly harsh thrust that makes your throat spasm around him, Anakin begins to make some very pretty noises. Drool leaks down your chin and chest, your mascara running, his balls slapping against your chin. He groans loudly.
“Gonna cum,” he mutters out. “Gonna fill up your throat. Do you want that, sweet girl?”
You can’t say anything, but you try your hardest to nod around his cock. He gets the message. And with stuttering hips, salty fluid shoots into the wet canal of your mouth. It fills you up until you’re choking, and as Anakin rides out his high his cock practically coats itself in cum as he moves in and out, in and out. He pulls you off of him after a moment, and with a mouth full of spend you gasp out for air. Anakin’s got this possessive stare in his eyes as he looks at you.
“Swallow it.”
You do. You gulp it down excitedly, and with a small “aaaaa” you stick out your tongue so he can see that you’ve consumed it all. Anakin looks down at you with a grin on his face.
“That’s my girl.”
—
“I want you to… to put it in me.”
Your voice speaks softly in the darkness of your room, rain pattering against your window as Anakin sits on your bed across from you. It’s been a week since your last… encounter. Your parents are out once again— and as requested, Anakin had shown up on your doorstep to keep you company. After a mug of hot chocolate, your favorite, you had invited the man into your room. A cross is around his neck, shiny with a silver chain. His hair is messy, his fingers clad in silver metal rings. You want to bite them.
Anakin smiles, pretty teeth shining.
“Do you know the story of the Virgin Mary?” He asks, out of context. Your eyes light up. Mary is your favorite biblical figure.
“Yes!” You reply to him. “She got pregnant by God.”
“And how did she do that?”
“By magic!” You say. “She gave birth to Jesus.”
Anakin chuckles, kissing your forehead softly.
“Such a smart girl. But sweetheart, magic didn’t give her a baby.” At the sight of your confused face, he continues. “Sex did. That’s how all babies are made.”
Heat creeps up your neck, your face puzzled. “So you’ll give me a baby?”
Anakin should be frightened at the thought of getting his best friend’s daughter pregnant, but he isn’t. In fact, he smiles, his touch leaving tingles against your skin.
“If that’s what you want. Just imagine, angel..” his lips brush against your ear, smoothing back a strand of your hair. “A beautiful baby. My nose, my lips.. those pretty eyes of yours.”
You bite your lip, your heart fluttering. Having Anakin’s baby would be your dream! Having a house with him, children running around, Anakin coming home from work everyday…
Oh, but daddy would be so mad.
He would never look at you the same again. He would be ashamed, he would damn you to the deepest pit of hell.
You think these things so incredibly, but once Anakin’s lips press against yours all of those things go away. He kisses you slow, sweet, gentle. His stomach presses against your tummy.
“I can’t wait to see it. Your little belly, all swollen with my baby..”
And daddy is out of your thoughts and replaced with a new, different daddy: Anakin.
It’s not long before he’s got you laid down on your ruffled pink sheets, your baby blue nightgown gone (“cmon, let me see that pretty body”), with Anakin’s lips trailing down your neck. He’s gotten you prepped, used his fingers and tongue in oh so many ways that had made you quiver, used your throbbing cunt for his own meal. When you spread your legs for him this time, it’s so he can rub his incredibly hard length against the lips of your pussy. Delectable and sweet as he remembers, Anakin watches the way your leftover cum and slick coat his length generously.
He’s never seen a cunt so cute, so fat, so swollen and precious. He taps his cockhead against your clit, listens to the desperate little pleas you let out as you look up at him with doe eyes.
“Please, Ani, want your baby.”
“Please, daddy, put it inside me. My cunt’s so tight and wet for you..”
You don’t say that last part, Anakin’s imagination runs wild, but he knows you’re probably thinking that— thinking that as his mushroomed tip pops inside your entrance, stretching, burning. Thinking that as you cry, your salty tears his most delectable meal besides the thing in between your legs. Thinking that as you grimace, give him that pained look as he fully sheathes himself inside.
And then, he begins to move.
It’s like a fire in your gut, at first. Hot, burning, grating. But soon it gives way to something else— something not even his fingers can create, something that’s absolutely out of this world. Your nails dig into his back, leaving red welts along the skin, and you should apologize but you can’t bring yourself to care. Ani’s whispering something in your ear, something dirty, filthy, and deprived; you enjoy it so much, you really do, as he speaks to you like this.
“Good girl, so tight. Daddy’s so happy when he fucks his little princess.”
“Look at that, how red and swollen your little pussy is. Is my cock too big for it?”
After harsh thrusts, skin slapping against skin, and curled toes, Anakin pulls out of you. You almost sob from the loss, but it isn’t long before he lays you on top of him and slips himself back into your sopping hole, pulling your ankles behind your head. This causes your eyes to flutter open again, a small moan leaving you. Anakin brings his hands around to hold your legs and head in a chokehold. He fucks you like that, all twisted and overstimulated.
Looking down, you watch as his length fills you to the brim and moves in and out of you.
“A-Am —“ you sniffle, a pleasured sob racking through your throat. “Am I being good, Ani? Is… Is god inside me now?”
Anakin groans, his hips pressing even harder against your raw fucked pussy.
“Yeah, baby,” He breathes, his hand pressing against the bulge poking out of your lower tummy. “God’s in you. Right in this little tummy.“
You mewl, understanding his words, the blasphemy in them. A blush coats your cheeks as you murmur out, “don’t say that.. ‘s bad. You’re being bad.”
“But I’m making you feel so good. Aren’t I, baby?” He taunts, with a hint of malice in his voice. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A thick, hard cock to fill up this little pussy?”
You shake your head, trying to deny yourself this pleasure you can’t contain. Anakin chuckles.
“Yes, it is. I can tell when you’re lying, little girl... oh, look at you. Little legs are shaking. Poor baby…”
You should feel guilty for all the dirty things leaving his sinful mouth. You should hate him and find him icky and push him away. Hes a dirty, filthy man.
But… he’s your Ani. The man who protects you, hugs you when you’re sad, buys you your favorite lip gloss and stuffed animals. And that cross is dangling in pressing against your back, cold and heavy like a burden but still turning you on and— he smells so good, and although you keep trying to move away from his harsh fucking, you know in your mind that you don’t want him to stop. Little sounds escape your throat with each thrust, moans and whines that sound like a wounded animal. But you are far from wounded— unless you count the soreness you’re probably going to feel tomorrow from Anakin pounding your guts.
Grunting, his arms flex on each side of you as he grasps your body with firm hands.
The man’s cock moves against your walls harshly, slick penetrating the skin of your thighs and making you shake. A smirk glazes his lips as he watches your face contorted in pleasure, and your neck is craned so you can see every facial expression he makes.
You thought you had never seen God. But right now, you might not be so sure.
“Good little angel,” he groans gently. “Such a tight little fuck hole for daddy.”
You want to be disgusted by the name, wanted to be disgusted since the first time he said it, but before you can think too hard the tip of his mushroomed head slams against a certain spot that has you sobbing out, “daddy, daddy!” against your own accord. He moans himself at the sound of your pleasure.
“Good fucking girl. Hittin’ that princess spot so good, yeah? Pussy feelin’ good?”
Your eyes roll back, your body going limp like a rag doll as you relax against his jackhammering thrusts. It all feels too good. The Bible always talks about heaven and you think that this is truly it: Anakin below you, holding you down, humping into you like an animal, as he spews disgusting phrases into your ears.
Maybe he isn’t the devil. Maybe he’s God.
You can feel something building up in your tummy, the familiar butterflies now turning dark like moth wings, scraping against that one spot over and over and over. God grins from below you, and bringing his hand up he forces your mouth open with his big fingers. His spit lands down on your tongue, wet and warm and perfect.
“Swallow.” He commands, and you do it greedily. Your voice moans for more, aches for more, and he does it thrice.
“Do you trust me?” He growls. “Do you trust you uncle Ani, baby?”
“Yes! Yes sir.” You whimper, and you know it’s true when it falls from your lips. He forces his fingers to press even harsher around your head. Your ears ring, a pressure beginning to form in your skull.
“God’s got you,” Anakin growls. “God’s got you and your life in his hands. And you know what?”
You don’t say anything, just shake your head as you try to catch a breath of air.
“He’s not gonna let it go.” He continues. “You’re gonna feel this, honey. You’re gonna get fucked like this all the time—“ your vision is blurring, his words making you spasm. He brings his fingers down to that swollen button on your soaked pussy and rubs in harsh circles. “— When daddy thinks his precious little girl is asleep, when he thinks she’s praying to god, she’s going to be praying to me. Choking on my dick, getting fuckin’ bred. Do you want that? Do you want my cum, you fucking slut?”
You can’t really hear him anymore; your body has gone completely limp, your eyes fluttering shut as you ride out wave upon wave of pleasure. You’re still breathing, you know you are, but you fall unconscious in Anakin’s harsh grasp.
And when he sees you like that, all fucked out and deadweight, he groans and begins to pound you harder.
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TITLE: Table Manners and Bible Studies
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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Gorgeous (Charles Leclerc x FemReader)
Summary: He’s just so gorgeous and it’s a shame that she has a boring boyfriend.
Word Count: 2.6K
Prompt: “I love it when you look at me like that.”
Warnings: Fluff (Flirty Charles) and a bit of suggestive content.
a/n: Inspired by the Taylor Swift Song. Also this is the second Prompt. Thanks for reading 🖤
She knew that she couldn’t have him, someone so beautiful couldn't possibly be hers, but it was lovely to live in delusion. She hated not being able to have him and she hated him for making her feel like she could.
He wasn’t easy to approach and he wasn’t easy to talk to, his green eyes, like a deep forest that you couldn’t help but get lost in. Those same eyes were captivating and just full of beauty and they scared her because they did hold a lot of power, they were dark but clear enough for her to understand and unlock everything about him.
She couldn’t help but snicker at the way he couldn’t pronounce his R’s and his amused face did not go unnoticed by her. But how did they meet? She honestly couldn't tell you, maybe a party or something related to that, she would follow her boyfriend in search of a bit of thrill and she found it when she met Charles.
“I’m just trying to order a drink and you’re making fun of me?” he was intense, but not in a bad way, it was challenging and she wasn’t sure if she liked it.
She was shy in a way especially when she knew that a man like that would never find her interesting or maybe she was wrong this whole time because he was actually talking to her and that was a bad idea because now she couldn’t get him out of her head.
“I’m sorry, wasn’t my intention to offend you…”
“Don’t worry I’m messing with you…who are you here with?” She shouldn’t tell right? It wasn’t safe.
“My uh? Boyfriend is here” why did she hesitate and now she was sure that he noticed.
“You don’t have to lie you know, if you’re feeling uncomfortable I could leave”
“I’m not lying I’m here with my boyfriend, he’s somewhere”
“Why would he leave you alone?”
“You sound very creepy”
“I’m sorry, I’m Charles Leclerc” he said his name like if he held a level of importance, she had to know him, but she had no clue.
“Am I supposed to know you?” He laughed softly because of course not everyone had to know him.
“No but maybe it rings a bell, you’re in Monaco after all”
“I don’t know anything about Monaco, maybe fancy people in fancy cars and you’re probably one of them huh?”
“Let me ask what you’re doing here with your boyfriend?”
“Something about racing, cars that go really fast who people pays lots of money to watch, for example my boyfriend this weekend”
“I’m a driver in one of those cars” she saw how her eyes widened but she quickly hid her surprise.
“Wow really, so I was right?”
“Right about what?”
“Fancy people with fancy cars”
“I look fancy?”
“Yeah, very mysterious, so why are you talking to me?”
“Cause I thought you were single”
It’s a shame that she wasn’t, was he single though? Because if he wasn’t then that would be worse for her, just due to the simple fact that he was free and she was not, stuck with a boring boyfriend whose only interests revolved around him and never her.
“Are you single?” She looked away, his eyes were too much.
“Yeah I am and sadly you’re not”
“Shut up”
“What? You’re beautiful”
“And you’re too gorgeous” he blushed.
No one had openly said that to him, maybe fans but girls he met usually acted mysterious or not like themselves just to get another date with him, but she was different, she was guarded and simply curious.
“Baby, are you seriously talking to Charles Leclerc?” Of course her boyfriend interrupted her nice chat with him.
“Yeah, just met him…” but he pushed her out of the way to shake his hand and he definitely saw how her step faltered a bit.
“Watch out with your girlfriend mate, don’t push her”
“It’s fine, I’m fine” to be honest she had never seen Morgan so excited before, again he was pretty boring and maybe sports brought him a bit of thrill and pride that she couldn’t provide and that made her feel so lonely.
“Just shake his hand Morgan and let’s go” and he did just that, but not before Charles stopped her by grabbing her hand, in that dark room she felt those sparks that everyone talks about. She could allow him to take her anywhere, running away with him didn’t sound like a bad idea, but why?
“You know my name and I don’t know yours, not fair?”
So she told him and it sucked that her own boyfriend did not even blink of jealousy, he was even happy that Charles Leclerc was in their presence.
Which meant that he didn’t believe that she could cheat on him, not that she would, but if you don’t get jealous that means that you’re just coexisting.
“You know my name and I know yours, I’ll see you around, I know I will” so she was left with her soon to be ex boyfriend.
Charles was interesting because he carried himself with so much confidence but at the same time he had the posture of someone that wasn’t sure how powerful he was.
From his profile, to his eyes and then his smile, in that same order he was completely captivating. One night with Charles and she was risking it all.
So she fought, to ignite something that would provoke Morgan, to kiss her with passion, to want her, but nothing he was just staring at his phone with no motive to love her.
“Morgan?” With a hum she knew that he wasn’t interested.
“Do you love me?”
“Yeah I do”
“Then how come you’re not seeing me?” She didn’t mean just physically, but maybe he was too busy to actually understand her.
“Yeah you look nice”
“Just nice? Not pretty or beautiful?”
“You’re pretty is that what you want to hear”
“Yes but not coming from you in that uninterested way”
“Are you calling me boring” and to be fair she did think he was but maybe he was self-aware because she didn’t openly admit her disdain for his lack of affection and thrill.
“I loved you…”
“Loved?”
“Don’t pretend that you want me to be your forever, everyday you’re further away from me, doing…I don’t know what? We’re not settling we’re growing apart”
“Yet you’re still in Monaco with me?”
“Because I thought that we could rekindle our love, but I don’t know what happened along those two years together”
“You didn’t even try, always so guarded and calm and maybe you rubbed off on me”
“You were never fun Morgan, and I thought that you were what I needed someone exactly like me, but now I see that you don’t care about me or us, you bring me along because you have to, your parents love me, your friends as well, I’m the perfect girlfriend but not anymore not to you so please be honest” his eyes lost that defensive look and he looked like the old Morgan.
“I’m sorry but I fell out of love with you and I know that you noticed it too, we’re no longer in love and I’m sorry…” their hug was a way for them to let go of each other, both of them sighed in relief.
“I want you to be happy”
“I want the same for you Morgan, please have fun”
“Where will you go?”
“I don’t know, I’ll rent a hotel here and then I will go back home and we will figure it out ok, but space is necessary”
“So we’re ok, did we end on good terms, do you hate me?”
“I could never hate you, I’ll see you around ok” with a kiss to his cheek she left in search of those pretty eyes.
Meeting him again was unexpected, she was in a nice little coffee shop, enjoying her last days before going back to what used to be her apartment to gather all her stuff. He walked in and no one spared him a glance, maybe they had met him before and were simply too unimpressed by him now.
His whole face morphed into one of surprise, he couldn’t have her and it was painful, too pretty to be his.
Seeing her brought happiness but just quickly enough it turned to sadness because he hated not being able to sweep her off her feet. So when he sat across from her he couldn’t help but still want her.
“I’m furious at you, want to know why?”
“Why Charles?” She grew even more curious, hand supporting her chin, never faking interest.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you”
“Haha, very funny, you couldn't possibly find me interesting…”
“I’ll stop you right there because the moment you laughed at me I knew that you were interesting, I was drawn to you”
“I’ll take that as a compliment then, but because you’re too gorgeous, I can’t take you seriously”
“Does your boyfriend not take you seriously?”
“Ex-boyfriend” with her confession he leaned forward, and now it wasn’t in a darkened room where he grabbed her hand, in plain daylight he held her.
“Ex? two days ago you had a boyfriend and now you don’t”
“That’s what an ex means”
“You’re making me a bit mad and nervous because I don’t know how to be charming with you”
“You don’t really have to try you know? Those eyes could drive anyone crazy”
“You’re way better at flirting than me”
“I’m flirting with you?”
“Yes you are, i'm interested, captivated and too crazy to want you after only knowing your name”
“Well then ask me anything, I’m not stopping you and maybe after knowing a bit more about me you’ll want me less or more”
“Where do you live, how old are you, birthday, favorite food, color I mean everything….”
So she answered truthfully and then it was her turn to know everything about him and he was perfect enough for her.
Adventurous, ambitious but not enough to be cocky, sweet, an awkward extrovert which meant not being shy but not being so full of himself to be too much.
Not to mention his kindness and appreciation for others after all the support given to him, which meant that he was thankful for his fans and lifestyle.
Perfect wasn’t the right word because no one was, he was just gorgeous inside and out. Gorgeous people weren’t just beautiful to look at, but also beautiful to understand and love and maybe that’s what he meant when he repeatedly called her beautiful.
“So do you believe me now?”
“I do, we're both gorgeous” and that smile and look would drive her crazy for the rest of her life.
She wasn’t alone, she wasn’t running back to her loneliness, she was in his arms where she belonged. Her relationship with Charles was like a dream, they barely argued and if they did it it was quickly solved.
He wasn’t rushing his relationship with her unlike all his other ones. He defended her and didn’t stay quiet, he made sure that she was content and busy, never boring her with his lifestyle.
Sometimes she was involved in his public life and oftentimes she wanted to selfishly have him in the privacy of their home.
He admired how she was willing to learn about what he did, and she was excited as well. At first she would try to focus but having him so close meant distracting him.
He was also curious and would always be involved in her work and life, if she was willing to put up with his life then he would show the same amount of support and respect for what she did, everything was mutual from their love to their opinions.
Two years together and she couldn’t imagine not meeting him that night, not holding hands with him in the cafe, not breaking up with Morgan because all of that brought them closer together.
It made her open up, it made her realize that someone like him could die for her. His looks were just part of him but his heart won, he stole her heart and she stole his.
“I love it when you look at me like that.”
“I’m not looking at you any differently”
“Exactly you always look at me like the very first night we met, it takes me back to our first connection. The night we met I knew that you would be mine, does that make me too cocky?”
“No, it makes you confident, to be fair you were a bit quirky, and I liked that”
“Then was it love at first sight?”
“I think it was, you’re eyes were telling me “do you want to come along” and I gladly followed and look at us now”
“Look at us now, our very disheveled appearance after our passionate night…”
“After our engagement, which you are forgetting…”
“Do you really think that I could possibly forget the best night of my life besides the one when I met you?”
“Every night with me should be the best night for you”
“I’m not saying that they aren’t” his tiny smirk, the one that always worked was yet again present.
“I love you, do you know that?”
“I don’t think love should have question marks, I know you love me and it’s very clear, I don’t have to be desperate so yes I know you love me and you know I love you”
“Never any doubts, I sometimes still can’t look at your face because it makes everything very real, but when I do I’m not afraid of a future with you. So I know what you mean, our love is as clear as your eyes when they look at me”
“I wanted to thank you, but I’m more than just a pretty face huh?”
“Your gorgeous face is just a bonus, so keep looking at me with clarity and I’ll keep giving you my lovey eyes” she gently caressed his cheek, poking his dimples and tracing his smile with her eyes.
“Kiss me?”
“No questions, remember?” She mumbled against his lips.
A kiss that reminded her of their very first intimate night together. Filled with raw honesty, she felt wanted and loved. Kisses in every part of her body that she deemed unworthy of love.
He focused only on her, he would have his special nights when she would take over, but he didn’t care about anything else but her.
It’s funny that he would say that but in reality sex for them was pure connection, they both enjoyed everything equally he would focus on her and then she would follow.
However their first time was different, a kiss to her cheek then to her jaw and finally to her lips. He was romantic enough to know that a kiss was not meant to be a clashing impact, but rather something slow and gentle.
He picked her up carefully, gently sitting with her on the foot of his bed. She was lost in him and the same could be said for him. How she felt on top of him and how he felt when he finally laid her on the bed.
Every part of skin was kissed and memorized, they had mastered everything there was to know about each other. All their deepest desires, strongest insecurities but most importantly all of their love that they would always provide.
So just like the present morning, he would keep providing her with all the love that he had to give, because it wasn’t so crazy getting to love each other.
He made her feel all sorts of emotions but most importantly not once did she doubt the love that he had for her. So for that she will continue trusting her judgment of the night they met, she had made the right choice, no regrets.
She was glad that she met him that night and that she didn’t let her self-esteem issues stop her from chasing that gorgeous boy. If anything he was glad that she looked at his face and that she deemed him gorgeous enough to be with him forever, forever hating how gorgeous he was.
a/n: Thank you so much for reading, I hope that you enjoyed the story. Lots of love—Nat ❤️
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No Thoughts, Just Vibes
Oh, you know, just a little Solstice/Midwinter treat for you. Enjoy!
Rating: E
Pairing: Astarion/Tav (descriptionless) (BG3)
Content warnings: PWP, PIV sex, oral sex, sex toys, tooth-rotting fluff
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Their adventures by night in Faerún take them all over, from the Underdark to check up on Astarion’s siblings and their new spawn charges to Waterdeep in search of potential arcane solutions for certain undead individuals with sun sensitivity.
In fact, they find themselves entering Waterdeep just in time for Midwinter. The magicked streetlamps of the place glow golden and are festooned with all manner of wintery decorations, which feel oddly out of place in the seaside city but have a magic all their own nonetheless.
It’s just past dark when they approach a wizard’s tower, having spent the daylight hours getting to know the tavern and inn down the way while the sun still sparkled off the water. Now that it’s safe once again, Astarion and Tav ring the bell near the tower door and are greeted with a series of chiming meows in the style of a popular carol.
“He really doesn’t have to try so hard,” Astarion says, smirking despite himself. “And yet.”
“Let him be the dork of his dreams,” Tav chides playfully. “He deserves it. We all do.”
On cue, the large door of cypress wood before them swings open and their wizard friend holds out his hands in the foyer of his tower, arms wide.
“You made it!” Gale says, beaming. “Come, come inside. Please mind Tara, she’s been quite taken with the mistleberry and has made herself sick more than once despite my gentle reminders .” He yells the last words toward the spiraling staircase and from a nook nestled high in the wall, he receives a hiss in response.
“Relateable,” Astarion mutters as he comes inside, but he accepts an embrace from Gale nonetheless, giving him a stilted pat on the back.
Truly, the lot of them are glad their adventuring brought them to Gale’s doorstep. It’s nice to be off the road and surrounded by modern luxury again, and the wizard’s gone out of his way to ensure their modest celebration is full of delights. He’s even procured a top-vintage sanguine refreshment for Astarion.
“Did you imbue this with clove?” he asks, swirling it in his goblet and giving it another sniff.
“Not exactly,” Gale says, cheeks rosy from his own imbibed glass of wine. “Were you aware certain herbal and spiced components cross the blood barrier when inhaled or consumed? Give the resulting blood a bit of an essence for a certain frame of time. Garlic is the most common offender, but I thought I’d skip it, in this case. This donation came from a dear friend in the spice trade. One who doesn’t ask many questions and frequently dabbles in certain other trades.”
Astarion blinks against the verbal onslaught, then turns to Tav and says, “Hold on. Is that why I break out in hives after you’ve put too much garlic in your food?”
Tav’s also delightfully tipsy and she raises her glass to him. “I love you, dearest, but I’m not giving up garlic for you. Some prices are simply too steep.”
The night winds on and on like that until eventually Tav nods a sleepy head onto Astarion’s shoulder and he guides her off to bed in the spare room at the base of the tower. He returns to Gale, who’s ragaling Tara with his own rendition of “Marvelous Midwinter” to her great disdain.
“So, Gale,” Astarion says, interrupting to give Tara an appropriately respectful scritch on her head. “I have a bit of a favor to ask, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all, my friend,” Gale says, swaying. “How can I help?”
Astarion reaches into his pocket and procures a folded bit of something. He hands it to Gale, who unfolds it and examines it with some curiosity before cocking a brow at him.
“Any possibility of, erm. Recreating something to this effect?” Astarion asks. “One tied to a command word, perhaps?”
“Oh, certainly,” Gale says, going into tinkering mode as he examines the object. “I would need a few components, but luckily I have them in stock, thanks once again to my spice merchant friend. A little bit of articifer ingenuity to craft an arcane battery, some relatively complex enchantment, and a… wait.”
Gale gives Astarion another look and the vampire tilts his head and smirks.
“Right, I’m not asking,” Gale says, eyes back on his new puzzle. “Give me a day.”
“Lucky we’ll be here for three,” Astarion says with a light laugh.
The morning of Waterdeep’s official Midwinter celebration dawns bright and mild, the sea breeze rustling through the thick curtains they keep drawn in the guest room to ensure Astarion doesn’t wake up with burns or worse. They doze in the double bed in their underthings, Tav draped across Astarion’s chest and breathing softly as she wavers in and out of sleep. He’d actually fallen asleep last night, pressed up safe against her, and now he smiles into her hair, tracing his fingers up and down her arm.
Eventually she stretches along the length of her body and yawns against his skin, resting her chin on him and looking up into his face. She blinks lazily and runs a finger over the length of his nose with a delicate touch.
“Morning, dear,” she says, voice still rusty with sleep.
“Happy Midwinter, my love,” he murmurs in return. “I got you a little something.”
“Oh?” Tav purrs, sitting up a bit. “Is it fun?”
He arches a brow. “I certainly hope so.”
Astarion tangles his fingers in her sleep-mussed hair and draws her to his mouth, kissing her deeply as she relaxes into his body, letting her tongue stroke against his. He rolls them both to their sides and hooks his leg over hers, taking his time as he lights up her skin in all the ways he knows she loves. She laughs, tilting her head back to expose her throat to him, and he licks along the column of it, though he doesn’t bite. He wants her fully aware this morning.
With one hand, he deftly undoes the clasps of her brassiere and tosses it aside. Her smallclothes follow quickly after. She hums, pleased, lazing onto her back as he kisses down her breastbone, palming one of her breasts and rolling his thumb over her nipple until it peaks. His mouth works at the other, teasing and swirling until she’s arching up into him and rubbing her thighs together.
“Is this my gift?” she sighs. “I like it.”
Astarion chuckles against the space below her breasts as he continues working his way down. ���In part, I suppose. But not quite.”
He runs his tongue underneath her breast and then leaves her a moment to fetch something from the side table. She whines at his absence, but he doesn’t leave her waiting long. He rolls back over, slipping a ring snugly down onto the second knuckle of his middle finger.
She giggles. “Are you proposing to yourself? Fitting, honestly.”
“You’re cute when you’re lust drunk,” he says before he puts the weight of his body on top of hers, kissing her deep.
He hauls her leg up by the thigh, wrapping it around his waist so he has better access as he runs his hands down the length of her, gripping her arse tight before moving around to the front and teasing his clever touch between her legs. She’s already going wet, her arousal making for a smooth draw over her skin and she settles into it, a wide smile on her face, knowing she’s in a master’s hands.
Astarion grins. She has no idea.
He places his hand flat against her slit, cupping her and resting the ring against her in just the right place.
“ Deliciae ,” he whispers.
The ring sends a brief, rapid vibration through her core, just beside her clit, and Tav cries out in surprise, bucking her hips and gripping his biceps, her breath going erratic. She’s fully awake now, staring up into his face, wide-eyed.
“What in the hells,” she gasps.
Astarion gives her a light kiss. “I’d hoped you’d like it,” he says. Then, again, “ Deliciae .”
“Oh,” she says, her thighs shaking on either side of him as another vibration pulses through her. “Oh, dearest . Again.”
He's happy to comply, kissing her between her gasps and mewls, repeating the command word in a sultry whisper while he works her with his fingers in the meantime. His own arousal aches where it’s pressed against her hip and he gently grinds it against her for relief, just enough to keep his own head as he watches her break to pieces beneath him.
Tav rolls her head back and opens her mouth in a silent scream as her legs shake, incapable of holding back their shudders as a shivering, powerful peak comes over her under the little toy. It’s familiar but sweeter; her hips rise off the mattress and then slam down as she tips over the other side. Astarion feels her clenching and pulsing, strong and slick, and the entire ordeal is instantly worth it to bear witness to the unraveling. There is no pleasure, no greater high, than knowing he’s the one who brings her to this state. The one who has the privilege. The one she chose.
She blinks back to herself, a moan low in her throat as she tries to clear the spots in her vision. When she meets his eyes again, he’s panting himself, still rolling his hips to get some relief against her side. Her gaze clears as she breaks the surface of her pleasure and she growls, grabbing his face and bringing him down to her mouth, nipping his lower lip between her teeth until he whines from it.
“You liked my gift?” he whispers, breath quickened.
“Oh, yes,” she sighs. “Now let me give you yours.”
Tav’s hand snakes down their bodies to find his fingers and she takes them, slipping the ring off. He’s so dazed with lust that he lets her without thinking about it too much and gladly moves as she rolls them both until he’s the one on his back. Her mouth is so hot on his cooled skin as she places open mouthed kisses everywhere he likes – the space behind his ear, the place where shoulder meets neck, every rib on the way down. She spreads a hand in the center of his chest, over where his heart resides, and presses him into place as she licks down the line between his abdominal muscles.
Astarion’s cock twitches, throbbing against the weight of her body as she continues her path, and she uses her free hand to give him a rewarding squeeze and stroke, running the pad of her thumb over the split underneath the head. She gives his foreskin a little swirl, helping make sure it’s properly drawn down, and he thrusts up into her hand with a pleased murmur.
It’s taken time and significant gentle coaxing to get him to a place where he simply lets go and allows her to lavish him with attention. A lesson he’s forever learning, rewriting centuries of conditioning with care, with passion, with love. He closes his eyes and focuses on her touch, allowing himself the pleasures she’s happy to share with him.
With a slight jolt, he twitches when he feels her warm tongue follow the path of her fingers, rolling circles around the head of him and applying long licks down his length. Her fingers move to his sack, gently rolling his balls in her palm, warming them. She places a knuckle against the spot beneath them, kneading deep but gentle, finding the place that drives him wild.
“You are so good to me,” he sighs as she moves her mouth over his head again. “That’s so good.”
He senses her smile just before she swallows him down, taking his length halfway into her mouth and working him a few times before she pulls off and says, “ Deliciae .”
Astarion’s vision whites out as the knuckle pressing into his perineum sends a hard vibrating pulse through him at the same time she takes his cock in her mouth again. He gives a sharp cry.
“Bleeding hells,” he manages. “I… I…”
She pulls off of him, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and says it again.
Pleasure upon pleasure crashes over him, lighting up his entire body as he writhes under her touch. She goes slow enough to make it delightfully tortuous, though it would be incredibly easy to push him over the edge in short order. She moves the enchanted ring, experimenting in different places – the base of his cock, the rim of his arse, the crease of his thighs – and each spot brings new sensations.
He’s an absolute mess by the time she draws back and crawls up his body, his hands weakly grasping at her hips as she sits up on her knees, gingerly reaching between her legs to hold his cock in place as she slides down onto it, both of them near sobbing at the sensation.
“I love you,” he manages with what little breath he can hold. “Gods, I love you, I love you.”
“Love you,” she breathes back as she rolls her hips hard against him over and again. “Love this. All of this.”
Tav rides him slowly, firmly, with intention. When they get to a point where they can’t help but pick up speed, grinding one another into oblivion, Tav lifts his shaking hand in hers and takes the ring from her finger so she can slip it back onto his, the movement reverent.
Astarion looks her in the face as he reaches down between them with his fingers spread over the base of his cock where they meet, resting the ring right alongside her oversensitive clit.
“ Deliciae ,” they say together.
They shatter in the same moment, eyes rolling back, crying out to the morning light. The waves of delight roll like the tide outdoors, rising up the shore and receding back to the great unknown.
Tav collapses onto Astarion’s chest and his arms are so very heavy as he lifts them to wrap around her back. They breathe, and pulse, and live. Eventually, he begins tracing soothing patterns along her skin.
He clears his throat. “I take it that’s the inaugural positive review for Gale’s potential toy venture?” he says.
“Oh gods, that’s where…” Tav covers her face with her hands. “Oh gods, I have to go out there and see him.”
Astarion laughs and she laughs with him.
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Hey I know people more eloquent and better suited than me have said this but why the FUCK haven’t we normalized using disability aids yet?
I don’t mean for people who rely on them day to day—though, that too, but it really ought to have its own post—but specifically: people who are otherwise able bodied using disability aids as needed
This is coming from being someone whose body swings wildly from “extremely agile” to “ow my bones and ligaments hurt if I put all my weight on my legs” and as such, I use a cane when my hips are popping out of socket and I know I’m going to have a bad day. otherwise I’m climbing and biking to my hearts content, which makes people suspicious, for lack of a better word, of my cane when I do need it.
And I’m tired of it
Why should I subject myself to even one day of excruciating pain if I have a way to ease it? Just because it’s not a constant doesn’t mean I should just muscle through it and make my body hurt more in the long run, so why do people get so offended by a seemingly able bodied person using a stability device?
I have a friend who, after a series of sports related leg injuries, uses a wheelchair or crutches on occasion to deal with leg spasms. She’s been accosted on several occasions by complete strangers who see her get up from her wheelchair to reach something or to stretch her legs as her doctor directed her. So many people assume she’s lazy or faking because they’ve seen her before without the aids
I don’t know how to succinctly wrap up where I’m going with this but like
Sometimes people have not only invisible but inconsistent disabilities, sometimes people get temporarily injured, etc. I don’t understand why there’s so much stigma behind pain management for people who seem able bodied
And being able bodied is temporary for most people anyway
I dunno
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A. Matthews - Winter Flu
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Auston Matthews x Reader
Requested✨
Word Count: 4.1k
Warning(s): mention of throwing up, reader’s kid is sick, parental insecurities, little bit of angst.
The point of view for this does use you when talking about the reader, simply because this was a request that had more so to do with Auston and Hudson. So I didn’t put it in first person. Also, long as shit, so I proofread ONCE.
Also! With the summer season approaching, those of you who submitted requests with the lake house, and Hughes brothers. Requests that I haven’t gotten to yet. Look forward to those! Once I get past the wisdom teeth surgery, and the end of this senior year. It is solid with the summer content.
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“I’ll call the school and let them know you’re on your way.”
“They’ll let me pick him up?”
“Yeah. You’ll just have to give your full name and phone number.”
“Do I need an ID?”
“Probably not, Aus. It’s not that formal.”
Auston pulled gently at the dainty silver lightning bolt that hung from his earring. A Christmas gift from the lovely woman he grew so close to. You’d celebrated at home with Auston, and found a nanny to celebrate with his team when he invited you. The holiday had passed, as did New Years, but the decorations in both your and his homes were still up. Auston left his up because Hudson liked to look at them. You left yours up because you didn’t have time to take them down.
He was nervous. It had been the first time you asked him to pick Hudson up from school. But these were special circumstances. The school day was far from over, and Hudson was sick. Auston had to leave his morning skate early to be there, still dressed in a pair of compression pants and shorts, and a black t-shirt with his number on the sleeve. He stepped into the building, and stood by the window that looked into the office. He’d never looked after a sick kid before. Maybe the Marleau boys right after they got over a cold, but never in the midst of sickness.
“Hello. How can we help you today?” An older woman approached the window with a clip board, setting it down on the counter and sliding it through the window as she opened it.
“I’m here to pick up Hudson?” Auston hadn’t even considered using a last name. There was surely only one sick Hudson.
“Right. His mom called and said a friend would be in.”
Auston’s deep brown eyes immediately lifted from the clip board.
“Write your name and number here, and we’ll let you in the office while somebody finds him.”
Auston slowly scrawled his name and number out, sliding the clip board back in the woman’s direction. He would have texted you if you weren’t in the middle of a meeting. Auston stepped into the office when the woman opened the door, finding a seat in one of the plastic chairs.
A second secretary left the office, and Auston was left in an awkward silence, the woman in the room occasionally glancing up at him.
“Are you the kid’s dad?” Such a question surprised and offended him. Auston wasn’t even sure why. Possibly because of the tone in the woman’s voice.
“Kinda? I’ve been with his mom for a while.”
“I wondered.” He tensed, watching her disinterested eyes focus on something else.
Was it an insult? Did it have to do with the last name thing? Or the simple fact that he wasn’t related? He hated to think it would have been anything else. Auston’s jaw set, and for a moment he considered telling the woman off. He could recall the endless amounts of times his mother had never taken such disrespect. Even his father. But he refrained.
The second secretary entered the office soon after, with Hudson, sluggishly following behind.
“Mom?” He had called before his eyes even left the floor. His need for his mother made Auston feel even less prepared than before. He didn’t have the qualifications for this.
“Mom’s in a meeting, bud.” Auston gained Hudson’s attention, watching the boy’s eyes widen. Hudson sniffled and quickly walked over to hug Auston. He looked pale, but flushed in the cheeks. And he certainly felt warm.
“I wanna go home.” Hudson whined softly, and Auston slowly guided him back a few steps so he could stand up.
“That’s where we’re headed, little man.” He put his hand out, and Hudson quickly held onto it. “I’ll take your bag.” Auston held his other hand out, and took hold of Hudson’s book bag after the boy shimmied it off. “Thanks, guys.” Auston was swift to speak to the secretaries before he led Hudson out of the office and eventually out of the school building all together.
“How long is mom in a meeting?”
“Probably another hour or so. It’s just you and me for a bit. Your mom said you got sick?”
“Yeah.” Hudson sounded as exhausted as he looked. Once they got to his car, Auston tossed the boy’s bag in the back and helped him hop in and get buckled.
“If you need to throw up, you let me know, okay?” Hudson merely nodded, leaning back into the seat to get comfortable. If he wasn’t sick, his first complaint would have been about the lack of a car seat. But everything had happened so swiftly that morning, that there wasn’t really time for meeting up and taking the one out of your car. Perhaps it was just time to get one of his own.
Auston carefully shut the car door and walked around to the front, sliding in and turning the key in the ignition.
“Do you wanna listen to anything?”
“Uncle Mitchy’s music.” Hudson spoke softly. Auston hated to admit it, but he was always a little jealous of Mitch for getting the title of ‘uncle.’ Auston was patient. He knew Hudson was the only person who could grant him the title of, ‘father,’ but he hoped his face would light up the same way Mitch’s had. He hoped he’d feel that same overwhelming excitement.
Auston connected his phone to the car and opened Spotify to find Mitch’s profile and public playlists. One labeled ‘kiddos’ that he used around Patty’s kids, and Hudson. A plethora of music that ranged from Baby Shark to Kids Bop and Disney. Auston hated Baby Shark, but not near as much as Hudson did. So when that song came on, he skipped it swiftly.
“Can I lay down when we get home?”
Auston glanced in the rear view mirror as he backed out of his parking space.
“For sure, bud. Whatever you want.”
“Do you have Gatorade?”
Oh boy.
“No, sorry. We can check your mom’s fridge though.”
“I really want Gatorade.” Auston could hear the quiver in Hudson’s voice as he pulled out onto the road. The drive back to your place was short, and he was thankful for that. But he was more so worried about the protocol for not having something the kid wanted. Did you go out and get it? Was he supposed to call you? What if Hudson didn’t want an alternative?
When he pulled into the driveway, Auston was quick to park the car and hop out, opening Hudson’s back door to see the kid hunched over and asleep.
“Hudsy,” Auston carefully nudged him. Hudson winced, but his eyes fluttered open. He looked in distress for a moment before his face twisted into discomfort. Auston unbuckled the seatbelt and held his arms out. Hudson quickly moved to the edge of the seat and allowed Auston to pick him up. Once they got inside, Auston set Hudson down. He kicked his shoes off and considered his next options. Hudson quickly walked over to the couch to sit down, curling in on himself.
“You okay, bud?” Hudson merely nodded, and despite Auston’s uncertainty, he decided to go with it. Just for a moment.
Auston slipped down the hall into the boy’s room. He grabbed a blanket off the bed and a little dinosaur stuffed animal. As well as finding a pair of shorts and a comfy shirt Hudson could change into. Comfort always came first when sick. Auston walked back out into the living room, tossing the items onto the love seat before slipping off into the kitchen.
He barely had any more time to think before Auston heard a familiar shuffling in the living room. And heavy footsteps pattering down the hall. He was swift to follow.
“Hudson?” Auston had just barely made it into the bathroom, when the boy started to throw up. His initial reaction was to groan and look away, but Auston had to remind himself he was the adult in this situation.
“It’s okay. Just- you just gotta.. let it out.” His disgust shifted into immediate concern when he heard the quiet cries from the boy. Auston’s brow furrowed, slowly stepping into the bathroom. He grabbed a paper towel when Hudson finally sat on the floor, his body trembling from the exertion, but finally able to relax for a moment. Auston swiftly sat on the floor next to him, taking up most if not all of the space in the tiny bathroom.
“Here,” he held out the paper towel, and Hudson slowly took it, wiping his face and tossing the towel in the trash beside the toilet. Hudson leaned his head against the side of the toilet bowl, gross any other day, but Auston was a kid once too. He knew how easy it was to forget about everything else in the midst of sickness. A cold surface was a cold surface, and it was easing on a raging temperature.
“I want mom,” Hudson’s quiet voice quivered and squeaked, tears falling down his cheeks at a rapid pace. Auston’s chest tightened. He wasn’t cut out for this.
“I’m sorry.” It was a scary feeling, wanting to help somebody and not feeling equipped to do so. Especially when it was the kid you’d grown so close to.
“Please call my mom.” Auston hated hearing those words every time they were spoken, because there was nothing he could do.
“I can’t, Hudsy. She’s busy. I promise she’ll be home soon.” Auston carefully reached out to rest a hand on the boy’s back. Hudson shrugged him off and looked away.
“Hudson.” Auston spoke gently, earning the boy’s gaze. “Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, but he could tell he struck a nerve when Hudson began to cry harder. The little boy inched across the floor to hug Auston, sobbing into his shoulder. It was the first time he’d been sick without his mother. The first time she hadn’t had to leave work to pick him up. Hudson didn’t know how to feel.
“Can you tell me what your mom does when you get sick?”
Auston may not have been the most experienced with kids, but he was still smart.
Hudson wiped the tears from his cheeks, the quiet sporadic breaths interrupting his attempts to speak.
“Take your time.” Auston encouraged gently, rubbing the boy’s back. They sat quietly for a few minutes before Hudson managed to calm down. Exhaustion filled his red eyes, slowly pulling his head out of Auston’s shoulder.
“She lets me lay on the couch.. and I have stuff to drink. And she puts on tv.” He sniffled.
“What do you like to watch?” Auston asked as he brought a hand up to wipe the tears from Hudson’s cheeks.
“Spider-Man.”
“What? No way!” Auston feigned excitement. “Me too.” Maybe not the cartoon Spider-Man, but he grew up with the old movies.
“Really?” Hudson winced, one of his hands holding his stomach. Auston took notice of the action, continuing to rub the kid’s back.
“Yup. I have some stuff for you to change into, that’s a little more comfortable. And I got you a blanket and a stuffed animal. How’s that sound?”
“Good.” Hudson swallowed and nodded.
“I’ll go get your clothes, and you can change in here.” Auston stood up, quick to flush the toilet before he slipped out of the bathroom. He walked back down the hall to the living room, grabbing the change of clothes and turning to go back in the direction he came. He smiled softly at the sight of Hudson standing in the hall, waiting for him.
“Can you stay out here while I change?” Hudson slowly took the clothes from Auston’s hands. The hockey player nodded.
“I’ll be right outside the door.” Hudson slipped back into the bathroom at the promise. He pushed it halfway shut, and Auston leaned back against the wall opposite of the bathroom, waiting patiently. When Hudson came back out, he rubbed at his eyes and looked toward Auston expectantly.
“Where’s your other clothes?” Auston questioned.
“On the floor.” Hudson’s response earned a quiet chuckle from the man. He’d pick up the clothes later.
Auston led Hudson back down the hall, grabbing the blanket and the stuffed animal from the love seat.
“Go ahead and get comfy on the couch.” He watched Hudson climb up and lay down. Auston quickly draped the blanket over him, tucking the bottom under the boy’s feet and dropping the dinosaur stuffed animal on his chest. It earned a quiet and weak giggle from Hudson.
“We need one more thing.” Auston reached for the throw pillow at the opposite end of the couch. “Pick your head up.” Hudson did as told, sighing quietly after Auston slipped the pillow behind his head.
“Alright. I’m gonna go grab you something to drink.”
“You’ll be back?” Hudson asked quietly.
“I promise.” Auston slipped into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and rummaged through it before he found Sprite. Not Gatorade, but still good for sickness. He found a plastic cup to pour it in, with a few ice cubes. He popped a lid on the cup and found a straw, slipping it through the hole. Auston walked back into the living room, placing the cup down on the coffee table.
“Thanks, Aus.” Hudson whispered. Auston hated how miserable he sounded.
“No problem, dude.” He reached for the tv remote and turned the tv on. Auston flipped through various channels before he found Disney. “Spider-Man comes on after Frozen.”
Hudson whined out a complaint.
“I know, but I don’t think there’s much left of this movie.” Auston set the remote down.
“Can you sit?” Hudson whispered.
“On the couch?”
“No.. right here.” Hudson pointed to the floor by his head. “Please.” Auston made his way over and sat on the floor. He leaned back against the couch, his head resting on the front of the arm. Hudson let out a sigh before his hand rested on Auston’s shoulder.
“Mommy usually cleans.” He mumbled. “So nobody else gets sick.” Auston raised a brow.
“Do you want me to clean?” He turned his head to peek at Hudson.
“No. Just sit with me.” Auston nodded and slipped his phone from his pocket. He hadn’t heard from you. He set the device aside and reached a hand up to rest on the one Hudson placed on his shoulder.
“You’re gonna be alright, I promise. You just need a little time.”
“Auston?”
“What’s up?” Silence followed as Auston’s eyes settled on the tv, brow risen in expectancy. Waiting for Hudson to talk, but he never did. “Hudson?” Auston turned his head to look at the kid, who avoided eye contact. “What’s goin on, Buddy?”
“Don’t be mean, okay?” To say Auston was surprised was an understatement.
“I’d never. You know that.” He squeezed Hudson’s hand.
“Can I sit with you?”
“Yeah, come on.” Auston swiftly tugged the blanket off Hudson. He couldn’t imagine ever saying no or being mean about such a question. The boy needed comfort, and he was certain he could provide.
Hudson slowly slid off the couch, holding onto his dinosaur. He sat on the floor next to Auston and immediately leaned into his side while Auston wrapped the blanket around his legs.
“Better?” Auston whispered after Hudson got comfortable. The boy nodded. Auston draped an arm over his shoulders.
“Can I have my drink?”
“It’s not Gatorade, but it’s sprite.”
“That’s okay.” Hudson held his hands out as Auston grabbed the cup and handed it over. The boy took a few sips before he set the cup on the coffee table within reach. Auston felt Hudson heave out a breath, the kid’s full weight resting on his side. He peeked down at Hudson a few times to see his face focused on the tv. He may have gotten sick of Frozen from watching it all the time, but the boy still loved watching Elsa sing. He said she sounded like his mom. Auston didn’t quite believe it until he heard you sing Hudson to sleep one night.
Auston smirked the moment he heard Hudson’s soft whispers, quiet mumbled words following the tune on the tv. He moved his arm to rest on the couch cushion behind them, carefully smoothing down Hudson’s hair. He didn’t know what else to do other than let him rest. Soon, Hudson’s whispered words ceased, and he fell asleep.
Auston didn’t move. He didn’t want to. He was comfortable and happy where he was. It was an odd thing to be happy about, but he wanted to have these moments. He wanted to feel like Hudson was his kid. You only called because it was an emergency, but to know he was trusted with something like this, it made him happy. To take that stress off your shoulders, and to know a kid trusted him as much as he trusted his mother.
Auston lost track of the time as he sat there. His body started to ache, but he kept himself distracted with texting and watching whatever he could find in the tv. He was hopeful that Hudson had gotten whatever out of his system, seeing as he hadn’t woken up with any nausea. And you did say he didn’t stay sick long when he was throwing up, but Auston tried not to get too ahead of himself.
He felt far less worried when he heard the sound of a car door in the front drive. Auston sat up, placing his phone aside in hopes of greeting you from the floor. You opened the door slowly, stepping inside and wincing when your purse clinked against the door. Your eyes met Auston’s before trailing toward Hudson. It was relieving to see Auston had seemingly handled the situation well.
“He’s out?” You asked softly.
“Definitely.”
“If you give me like.. five minutes? I’ll change and put my stuff away, and you can go.”
Auston’s brow furrowed.
“I can stay.”
“Are you sure?” You pushed the door shut, slipping your flats off. Over time, you’d gotten much less argumentative over Auston’s consistent offers to be present.
“Yeah. He said you usually clean. If you want, you can come sit with him and I’ll clean.” You smiled and shook your head.
“He looks too comfy. I’ll clean real quick.” He didn’t touch much this morning, so it’ll be fast.” Auston nodded and flashed you a quick smile.
“Did he throw up at all when you brought him home?”
“Just once.”
“Alright.” Your eyes lingered on Hudson. “We’ll see how he feels when he’s up, and maybe I’ll make some soup.”
You couldn’t have been more grateful for the assistance. Able to clean without having to worry about Hudson waking up alone or getting sick without anybody around.
Another hour passed before you were carefully shaking Hudson awake, a sad sigh falling from your lips at the sight of his exhaustion.
“Momma?”
“I’m here.” You whispered, running a hand through his hair. Auston smiled at the simple interaction.
“How are you feeling, honey?”
“Okay.”
“Your stomach?”
“Okay.” Hudson shrugged.
“You wanna try to eat? And we can watch a movie?”
“Yeah.”
You and Auston shared looks before you stood to slip into the kitchen.
“Auston?”
“Still here.” Hudson reached out to grip the sleeve of Auston’s shirt, yawning and leaning back into his side.
“Why don’t you get up on the couch?”
“Pick me up?” Hudson peeked up at Auston, mustering up a pouty face.
“Fine.” Auston smirked, slowly standing up. He leaned forward and scooped Hudson up, setting him down on the couch. Hudson curled up beneath his blanket, setting his dinosaur aside.
“Good?”
“Yeah.”
“You mind if I go see your mom real quick?”
Hudson huffed and rolled his eyes. He had his mother’s sass even when he wasn’t feeling the best.
“I’ll allow it.”
Auston feigned shock before laughing quietly. His amusement brought a prideful smile to Hudson’s lips. He still looked exhausted and small, but he was feeling good enough for a bit of humor.
“Not too long though.” Hudson pointed a finger at him.
“Yes, sir.” Auston teased before he left the living room. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment before he made his way over to the stove where you stood.
“Goin’ good in here?” You jolted, almost hitting Auston before you turned to him.
“Jesus, Aus!” He shushed you immediately, laughing quietly.
“Sorry, sorry.” You smiled. “Shouldn’t you be watching a kid?”
“He told me I could come see you.”
“Oh he told you.” You taunted softly.
“He’s pretty gracious, actually.”
The both of you laughed softly, and you watched as Auston folded his arms across his chest, leaning his hip against the counter.
“What are you making?”
“Chicken soup.”
“Smells good.”
“It’s canned.” You shrugged, “nothing homemade.”
“My mom used to add paprika and garlic powder when I was sick. She said it helped.”
“I have a feeling Hudson won’t like paprika.” You laughed. Auston shrugged and reached for your arm.
“It did help though.” Auston informed you as he ran his hand up your arm, carefully stepping behind you to rub your shoulder.
“That feels nice.”
“We should go out soon.”
“I think for now we should just worry about Hudson.”
“That’s fine. I’m just bringing it up.” Auston brought his other hand to the opposite shoulder. Despite his words, you knew his persuasive methods.
“If you can find a babysitter, we’ll discuss it.” You entertained the idea.
“What about the woman that usually does it?Danielle?”
“She’s busy these next few weeks.”
“Mitch?” Auston tried.
“Will Steph be there?”
“That’s a fair point. I’ll have to ask when we decide a day.”
“If Steph isn’t there, I don’t think I fully trust Mitch with my kid.”
“Yeah me either.” Auston pressed a kiss to your head, pulling away at the sound of his name from the other room.
“Times up, Cinderella.” You teased, waving your hand in a dismissive manner.
“You almost done?”
“Soon, Aus. Go find a movie for us to watch.”
Auston nodded and slipped out of the kitchen.
“Alright, Hudsy. What movie do you wanna watch?” Hudson patted the empty space on the couch next to himself. Auston quickly sat down. Hudson handed his dinosaur over.
“Can you hold him?”
“Sure.” Auston tucked the green Dino between his arm and his hip as he picked up the tv remote from the floor, then the second remote for the streaming services.
“You wanna pick a movie?”
“Can we watch Cars?”
“Absolutely.” Auston worked on finding the movie while you finished the soup, pouring it into three separate bowls before carrying the first two into the living room. A plastic one for Hudson, and a glass one for Auston.
“Thanks, momma.”
“Yeah, this is awesome.” Hudson always had manners, but you liked to think Auston’s example helped solidify them. Auston’s example helped with a lot of things.
“I’ll be right back.” You disappeared back into the kitchen to grab your own bowl with a few paper towels. When you came back into the living room, you set the items on the coffee table, and walked over to the lights to shut them off. In turn, you flicked the lamp by the couch on.
“You still feeling okay, Hudson?” You asked as he sipped on a spoonful of soup.
“I think so.”
“Just don’t eat too fast, okay?” You added swiftly, and he nodded. You sat down on the couch opposite of Auston, Hudson in between.
“Do you care if your dinosaur sits on top of the couch for now?” Auston asked, “just while I eat?”
Hudson seemed to contemplate the idea before nodding, and Auston set the dinosaur on the top of the couch behind his head.
“Don’t let him fall.” Hudson spoke softly, glancing up at Auston.
“I won’t.” Auston pressed play on the streaming remote.
It only took Hudson a few minutes to eat what he wanted. After that, he’d asked you to set his bowl aside, and you did. He waited for you to finish eating before curling up against your side.
“Still feeling good?” You asked as you ran a hand over his hair.
“Yeah.” He paused. “Auston?”
“Sup?”
“Come on.” Hudson waved for him to come closer. Auston smiled and quickly closed the space between himself and the duo. Hudson got comfortable between the two adults, and Auston tossed his arm over the couch, his hand just barely resting on your shoulder.
“Am I going to school tomorrow?” Hudson asked, peeking up at you.
“It’s probably a good idea to keep you home and make sure you’re okay.”
“I thought you worked tomorrow?” Auston chimed in.
“I can do my stuff from home. But a sidekick is always welcome if you have time before your game.”
“Definitely.”
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— TWO IS BETTER than one ʾ ⋆
summary ; requested by anon.
“Can i request Jacaerys x reader x Lucerys like poly relationship, but at first they're enemies?”
pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x reader x lucerys velaryon
notes ; for the sake of this fic, jace and luke are nearly the same age. reader is the daughter of some house that was previously sworn to house hightower,, jace is more the enemy and luke is a lovesick fool who can’t choose between hating you or worshipping you,, kinda more of the boys arguing about you but if you want a part two i’d be more than happy to oblige c: this sucks i’m sorry LMAO also unrevised i wrote this at work :/
jacaerys velaryon was a boy grown who had known what being an unmarried prince meant. it meant that he would be used, at the very least, as a pawn for the chessboard known as the game of thrones. he would marry a girl, any girl, in order to soften the relations between friend and enemy and bring further peace throughout the realm.
he just hadn’t thought it would’ve been someone so close to the traitorous band that once called themselves the greens.
despite his mother winning the trust of the realm, he still felt a strange resentment churning within him as she accepted their word of fealty. if they could turn their back on their kings word, why should she trust the word of a conspirator?
alas, rhaenyra had presented jacaerys with a match that would sweeten the lords of the southernmost part of the realm. he was less than thrilled to learn about it and loathed the day that the day of marriage grew closer.
“lady (y/n), it’s a pleasure to house you in king’s landing whilst we prepare for your wedding.” it’s the queen rhaenyra who speaks to you. her eyes are soft, yet her words commanding and full of strength. “when the time comes, you and prince jacaerys will set sail for dragonstone.”
“thank you, your grace,” you speak, eyes blinking and head dipping downward as a sign of respect. “i hope i’m not a disappointment to my prince, your grace.”
your gaze sweeps across the great hall and lands on the head of brown hair who was the tallest, you assumed this was prince jacaerys. he looks at you with a hardness in his jaw.
when he realizes it’s his turn to speak, “not at all, my lady.” his words are mixed with truth and duty; words that he’s conjured up on a thoughtful whim as to not offend his family or yours. he feels dismay proliferating in his chest, spurning molds of regret in his belly and leaving distaste in his mouth.
his brother, lucerys, seemed more akin to liking your presence as a furious blush has taken hold of his cheeks and he’s sticking his chest out proudly. jacaerys was sure he would’ve been more festive if the lady was married to his younger brother. then again, jacaerys didn’t really like traitors of the realm.
“jacaerys, lucerys, would you two be kind as to show the lady (y/n) around the red keep?”
jacaerys is the first to give his mother a pointed look, compared to lucerys, who looked more giddy and content at this command. instead, a huff leaves his nose and he approaches you, except lucerys reaches you first and he’s visibly eager to lead you. you take his hand tentatively and allow him to guide you.
whatever discomforts jacaerys felt, lucerys felt the exact same, but it was rather forgotten as the younger prince was enamored with your appearance. you walked with a certain grace, had a pretty voice, and you smelt of raspberries and something else he couldn’t put a name to.
“lady (y/n),” lucerys says, rather too happily as he begins to lead you through the grandeur of the red keep. his voice quivers with a certain nervousness and his hair is ruffled like a birds feathers. “how do you like it here? in kings landing, i mean.”
“she’s been here for all of five hours, i’m sure she doesn’t have an opinion yet.” both you and lucerys turn your head to glance at jacaerys. his brows shoot up, almost as if challenging you both to deny it.
you smile and duck your head, jacaerys’ comment long forgotten, “it’s far more grand than what i’m used to, my prince, but it’s a beautiful place.” jacaerys wrinkles his nose at your comment – kings landing was the farthest thing from beautiful.
“if you’re in awe of this grandeur, i’m sure you’ll find dragonstone more attractive.” it’s jacaerys who speaks again, his voice evident from behind the bodies of you and lucerys. the latter seems to peek behind him and send him a glare, though you pretend not to notice.
“i’ve heard rumors about dragonstone is the new.. valyria, is that true?” you ask, turning your head a moment to glance at the brunette haired prince behind you. “so many dragons, one could think its from a composition in a book.”
lucerys turns his head to give you a lopsided grin, “we’ll show you one day– i mean, he will show you one day.”
the warmth from your arm being held suddenly disappears and you notice lucerys flail about. you turn, eyes widening and brows shooting up as you observe what’s going on. you assume that jacaerys has pulled lucerys by the coat, for the younger brother is fixing his clothing and glaring at his older brother. they both stare at each other, gaze fixated.
jacaerys thought lucerys was a fool drunken on the euphoria of your beauty. yes, he was also taken aback when he first saw you, but being pretty doesn’t excuse the fact that your family betrayed law and broke faith with the oath of fealty sworn to his mother. jace wants to smack him upside the head and remind him of this betrayal.
jace suddenly remembers his manners in the presence of a lady, “if you’ll excuse us, my lady, my brother and i have something important to discuss.”
you look between the two, their gazes never averting from one another. you nod your head and curtsy, softly breaking the pause with two phrases of ‘my prince.’ if tucking tail and running was the best thing to do, you were doing that now.
“what was that?” jace’s voice is full of annoyance and more rebuke than he had intended. luke, despite knowing that his brother was just being a jerk, takes it to heart. luke’s facade cripples slightly and his brows knit together.
luke points a finger accusingly at jace, “me? what’s with you?” jacaerys scoffs and swats luke’s finger away from him. the hardness in his jaw is back and his eyes are lit with blackened fury.
“she’s our enemy.”
“she is your betrothed,” luke shoots back almost immediately. jace tuts and crosses his arms. he paces back and forth as if he’s thinking of some way to rebuttal what luke says. maybe it was the brotherly rivalry that pushed him to say something back, but nonetheless, jace felt annoyance pricking at his skin like little needles. “it’s not like she was in the wrong, it was her family.”
“doesn’t change the way i feel about it,” jace says, tilting his head to the side while luke shakes his head in disagreement.
luke contemplates for a moment, his forefinger and thumb grasping his chin as he looks down. there’s a silence that settles over the boys before luke looks up.
“doesn’t change that she’s the fairest lady at court.”
both the boys look at each other again, annoyance and irritation long forgotten. they both begin to laugh and jace approaches luke, slinging his arm around his brother.
“i ‘spose that’s true.” without a second word, jace pulls luke into a headlock and begins to ruffle his hair. luke flails wildly and tries to overpower his brother, but his elder brother is both stronger and taller. luke is grunting in frustration, trying to wiggle away from jace’s hold. when luke escapes, they both laugh and begin walking in the direction you went.
“maybe i’ll ask mother to betroth her and i instead,” luke says teasingly, casting a side ways glance at his brother. jace gives him a look and before he can swat at his brother or make a comment, luke begins sprinting down the hallway.
jace shakes his and takes off running after him. he didn’t like the idea of sharing his things, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
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i’m gonna keep this short cause i don’t wanna sound like i’m gloating. this new magazine collaboration of xz with gq is an example of why fan sensitivities and drama have no place in their career and the entertainment circle. for the past months, a lot of bxgs were unnecessarily “hurt” that wyb is working with gq and their editor so closely. it’s like xz personally confided with them about his problems related to gq and they have to be offended. lol. going as far as to accuse rocco of making wyb uncomfortable when he clearly wasn’t. and now, they did a collab with gq a month apart which is now being eaten as candy. 🍬
the point is, don’t get too caught up with fandom toxicity and make that affect how you support the content they put out. those who said xz would never work with gq or that they blacklisted gq, where are you now huh? liking and commenting on gq’s weibo account. some may say that gq is bowing down to xz just to console themselves and deny that they made a mistake. but anyone who is willing to step out of the fandom hive mind and think for themselves will know what’s happening here. fans are too sensitive to criticism and it’s hilarious cause zz and wyb are 2 people who have always been open to it. they both have thick skins and don’t burn bridges. they understand the industry and why it’s important to be nice and professional. if only the fans can do the same.
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Lollipop | w.j.h
Summary: You’re distracting your boyfriend while he’s working, and you do so by sucking a lollipop, but you’d much rather be sucking him. After a few moments of teasing, he snaps and decides to indulge you by tasting just how sweet you are.
☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕smut | ♥ completed
Word Count: 1898 words
Pairings: Wen Junhui x Female Reader
Age: 18+
Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Smut, fluff.
Content Warnings: Bad puns, terrible, terrible puns. Mentions of food and dessert. Valid mint chocolate slander.
Smut Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (folks don’t do this, wrap it before you tap it,) pussy eating, fingering, blowjob, candy play? Dom! Jun. Daddy! Jun. Very inappropriate usage of all things sweet. I guess dessert play? Jun likes mint chocolate chip, but only when it’s in a certain context. Lots of dessert-related puns. Use of the word kitten because, duh, it’s me. Hickies. Use of the pet name Princess. Praise kink.
Authors Note: Written for the Candy Land Collab hosted by the lovely @sunnylovespickles, check out the masterlist here and support all the amazing writers here. 🍭
Authors Note 2: Thank you very much to @wooahaeproductions (even tho I still disagree with your love for mint chocolate chip) and, @onlyhuis, @sunnylovespickles, and @himbocoups for looking over this for me. 💕
Authors Note 3: thank you thank you a million times again @wooahaeproductions for helping me write out the ending for this fic ❤️
Authors Note 4: If this fic looks remotely familiar, lol. It's because I once wrote a Joon fic with this exact premise, but since it didn't go too far. I repurposed it for this.
Cross-posted to AO3
© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.
“I’m trying to work. Can you stop being so distracting?” Jun huffed out as you kept staring at him while sucking on a lollipop.
“Oh, me sucking on something ball-shaped is distracting?” You joked, making Jun glare at you.
“Easy kitten, don’t test me,” Jun warned with a sly smile, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“Fine, I’ll be in the living room. Join me once you’re done?” you suggested, and Jun nodded, waving you off.
“I’m done, kitten,” Jun said later as he joined you on the couch.
“What?” you said innocently as you licked your ice cream.
“You’re seriously becoming way too comfortable with pushing me,” Jun mumbled, glaring at you as you took another lick at the ice cream.
“Want a taste?” You asked, and Jun grinned.
“I guess,” Jun said, pulling you onto his lap and pressing his lips to yours, slowly slipping his tongue into your mouth. Jun growled into the kiss, and you smirked against his mouth.
“Mint chocolate?” Jun asked, looking very offended, and you shrugged.
“This is why you ask what people are putting in their mouths before stuffing your tongue inside,” you said, continuing to lick the ice cream.
“It didn’t taste that bad, not when I tasted it off your lips,” Jun said, shrugging.
“Okay, I’m getting something else, though,” Jun said, getting off the couch and heading into the kitchen.
“Shall I turn on a movie? You can cuddle me and get yourself something sweet?” you offered, and Jun smiled at you.
“Bite,” Jun instructed halfway through the movie, holding a row of Cadbury in his mouth and turning to you.
“Why?” You asked, and Jun glared at you. You laughed, crawling into his lap and taking a bite of the chocolate. However, Jun was quicker than you and suddenly kissed you as you bit into the chocolate. You moaned into the kiss as the chocolate started to melt as the kiss began to get heated.
Jun’s grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel his length hardening against your core.
“So sweet,” Jun said, his lips coated in chocolate as he pulled away from you and swallowed the remainder of the melted chocolate,
“Fuck, that was hot,” Jun mumbled.
“Tastes way better than better mint, though,” Jun said cockily, earning a scoff from you.
“Wait, stay here,” you said, climbing off his lap slightly clumsily as you were still floating from the kiss and headed into the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream.
“What the hell are you doing with the can?” Jun asked as you emerged from the kitchen, grinning as you approached him and crawled onto his lap,
“You said you have a week off, right?” you asked, and Jun nodded.
“Why, oh my god, that’s cold!” Jun yelped as you sprayed a generous amount of whipped cream onto his neck.
“My shirt!” Jun cried out, and you rolled your eyes. You latched your lips onto his neck and sucked, licking and running your tongue over his neck, leaving marks. It wasn’t something you could do very often, so you took great liberty in marking your man.
“Still complaining about the shirt?” You asked as you licked the whipped cream off his neck and swallowed every drop. You moved your mouth away from his neck to admire your work and smirked when you saw it was all different shades of purple coated with a slick sheen of your saliva and slight specks of white from the whipped cream.
“You realise that you just gave me hickeys?” Jun said, his eyes going wild with lust.
“And?” you teased, and Jun snapped.
“On your knees, princess, don’t make me ask again,” Jun commanded, and you knew better than to challenge him. Mainly because the tone in his voice made you realise that not only was he in charge but that you were awaiting an especially sweet punishment. Jun pulled his shirt off and moved to remove the grey sweats already hanging dangerously low on his hips.
“Fuck, your body is so nice,” you praised.
“Problem?” Jun asked as you traced his abs.
“Nope!”
“Now, you, my darling, are the reason I will have to wear a turtleneck in the middle of summer. So, how will you make it up to me?” Jun mused as he laced his fingers through your hair and pulled you closer to his hardened length, the outline of his cock so painfully prominent through his boxers.
“Let me taste you?” You asked, smiling and batting your eyelashes at Jun.
“Good girl,” Jun said, and you smiled at him.
“Wait, what?” Jun said, hissing when he felt a cool sensation on his hardened cock.
“You minx, you work way too quickly,” Jun remarked when he realised that he had barely time to notice when you had pulled his cock out of his boxers and sprayed whipped cream onto his length.
“Oh fuck, good girl,” Jun groaned when you wrapped your lips around the thick head of his cock, moaning as you tasted the saltiness of his arousal and the sweetness of the whipped cream. You twirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, licking and lapping at the sweet concoction.
“Fucking hell,” Jun groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure.
Jun moved to thread his hands in your hair, making you slightly choke on his length.
“Good girl, can I fuck your throat?” Jun asked, and you tapped his thigh, letting him know it was okay to do so. Jun slowly started to move, allowing his cock to thrust in and out of your mouth.
“Holy shit,” Jun cursed as you hollowed your cheeks, allowing yourself to take more of his length in your mouth. You moaned, tasting him and relishing it.
“Fuck, baby, I need to cum inside you. Get up,” Jun said hurriedly and gently pulled his cock out of your mouth. Jun bent down and picked you up, his large arms holding you softly before they slowly threw you back onto the couch.
“Undress, and by the time I’m back from the kitchen, you better be naked with your legs spread for me,” Jun ordered before heading into the kitchen.
You heard Jun rummaging around in the kitchen, and you could only hope that he wasn’t breaking anything in there. Not that it’d kill your sex drive, but it’d just be a mess to clean up later. However, when you heard no other noise except rummaging, you stripped yourself and sat back on the couch, legs spread out and waiting.
“I said I liked mint chocolate, right, only when I tasted it on you?” Jun said, and you nodded slowly.
“Spread open, princess,” Jun said as he placed a cold spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream on your clit and let it slither down to your entrance, making you whimper and clench around nothing.
“Fucking hell, Jun, so cold,” you whimpered. You didn’t necessarily mind the coldness, but you minded the fact that his tongue wasn’t there to absolve you of your arousal.
“Let me taste,” Jun said before kneeling and throwing your legs over his toned, broad shoulders.
“Oh my god, Jun, so good,” you moaned out when his warm tongue enveloped your clit, while two of his slender fingers thrust into your cunt.
The sensation of his warm tongue, and his cold fingers, pushing the cold ice cream into your pussy was enough to make you start to unravel very quickly.
“Oh god, Jun, so good,” you kept singing praises as your hands moved down to thread in his hair, and you tugged on it, making him groan against your clit, the vibrations being enough to send you head barrelling into your first orgasm.
“Jun, fucking hell, I’m cumming,” you moaned, bucking your hips to meet his tongue, and Jun smirked against your pussy before pulling away.
“What the fuck, Jun?” You chided as he grinned.
“Baby, you’re going to cum on my cock, and I’m cumming inside you. That’s the perfect sweet treat. It’s called a cream pie,” Jun said smugly, earning a groan from you.
“You really need new material,” you said, laughing at his joke. However, your laughter was short-lived the minute Jun pushed into you, making you gasp.
“Still want to laugh at my jokes?” he challenged, smirking at you.
“No, fuck, just fuck me,” you begged, and Jun nodded.
“Gladly, my princess,” Jun said, throwing your legs over his shoulders allowing him to push into you deeper.
“My sweet little girl, do you like when I fuck you this deep?” Jun said, thrusting into you.
“Yes, Daddy, I do,” you moaned out.
“You’re squeezing me so fucking tight. Is my kitten close?” Jun asked. pounding into you.
“Yes, fuck me harder, baby,” you said, digging your nails into Jun’s perky ass, making him snap his hips harder into you.
“So close,” you choked out, and Jun growled, starting to lightly slap your clit.
“Jun, cum inside me,” you begged, and Jun nodded.
“Still want a cream pie?” Jun asked, making you glare at him only for him to fuck into you harder.
“Good girl, I can feel you close to cumming. Come on, cum on my cock,” Jun said, and you could barely mumble out a ‘yes’. Jun nodded, reaching down to rub your clit, making you unravel and fall apart on his cock, screaming his name as you came around him.
“Fucking hell, baby, I’m going to cum,” Jun said, and you nodded, relaxing as you felt him fill into your cunt with his warmth.
“So fucking good,” Jun mumbled slowly as he gently pulled out of you and crawled next to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a soft kiss.
“So, we need to clean this place before we get ants, but did you enjoy your cream pie?” Jun asked, giggling,
“Such a fucking dork,” you said, laughing into his chest,
“Yes, but I’m your dork,” Jun said, pulling you into a sweet kiss.
“Okay, ten minutes, and then we need to clean up,” you suggested, and Jun groaned.
“Ugh, fine, shower sex?” Jun said, and you laughed.
“I didn’t hear an objection?” Jun said, smirking, and you smiled at him.
“Fine, you instantiable freak, shower sex, but you’re helping me clean up,” you agreed, and Jun nodded.
“Just one more thing, kitten, mint chocolate chip really only tastes good when I lick it out of your even sweeter little cunt,” Jun teased, and you smacked him lightly in the chest.
“9 minutes, Jun,” you warned, making Jun laugh.
“I just remembered a new word I learned today, and maybe we should practice its meaning instead,” Jun said
“Oh? What’s the word?” you asked
“Fika. It means to take a moment and slow down to appreciate the little things in life.”
“Hmmm,” you nodded.
“So, how about we try that?”
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Absolutely loved the bob velseb post! I just want to say thank you cause omg yer writing is so descriptive and i loved that you made it clear that bob is fucked and the reader could lose an arm or two with him. Would def love to see more :D
More Yandere! Bob Velseb headcanons.
I’m glad that you enjoyed the previous set of headcanons for Bob! I’m definitely more than glad to write more ^^
EDIT: I FORGOT A FEW HCS WHILE PORTING THIS OVER OOPS LMAO 😭
TW/CW: Yandere content, cannibalism, sadism, masochism, vivid descriptions of biting/scratching, carving into skin with a knife, blood, murder, etc…
• Bob is very possessive when it comes to you, and doesn't like anyone else laying their filthy hands on his precious darlin'. He likes to mark you up for that reason, and if you'll let him Bob'll gladly carve his initials into your skin where everyone can see. Nothing gets him more excited than seeing you bruised and bitten after a long night together.
• Bob loves to cook for you, and will gladly take the time to make any of your favourite dishes. But be warned that any meat in a dish will be replaced with human meat. He doesn't tell you, of course but it's satisfying to see you fawn over his cooking when he knows damn well what the main ingredient is.
• He also finds it cute when you eat, so he often gives you food or candy to snack on. Bob can't really explain why, but it's oddly adorable just to sit there and watch you eat. (Even though it's creepy to you. He drools while you eat too.)
• He has a massive sweet tooth and a sweet spot for any sort of candy. Bob has a lot of cravings for candy (and human meat) and thinks of you as the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. So he gives you a lot of candy-related pet names. Names like “Bubblegum”, “Gumdrop”, “Sweetie”, “Sweetheart”, etc… Same goes for any pet names related to baked goods as well.
• Now, if you like to bake a lot, Bob will be ecstatic to taste test anything you make. He’s often stealing batter or dough whenever you’re in the kitchen, and will wrap his arms around you and watch whatever you’re doing with awe. Also, did you know blood can substitute eggs in any baking recipe? Bob wants to test this theory out with your own blood, since he thinks it tastes like saccharine.
• Bob, besides his violent oddities and quirks, he is a very domestic man. He dreams of one day settling down with you, adopting or having kids of your own, and being a loving husband to you. But of course, in his own twisted ways. Since he can’t really settle down due to the fact he’s a wanted criminal, Bob can settle for having you to himself for now.
• Now, Bob is willing to kill anyone that hurts you, so if you have any friends or family that are anything less but loving towards you, he’ll kill them with no remorse. Bob’ll be laughing in your face as you sob, thinking that you’re just being irrational. He did the right thing, didn’t he? Come on, he didn’t even eat them! Why would he bother with trash?
• He is a body worshiping man. Bob loves your body with all of his heart, no matter what shape or size you are. If you’re self-conscious or embarrassed of your body, Bob is immediately all over you with affectionate praise and a big smile. He worships your body like crazy, and is offended at the fact that you would even think of your perfect body that way. He’ll kiss and nip at your skin, telling you all the things he loves about you. (He told you that you were the most perfect cut of meat that he’s ever tasted once. Flattering, but also terrifying.)
• Don’t even bring up the idea of breaking up with him. Bob will crack up at the notion of you wanting to leave him. He thinks you’re joking, and will make playful jabs at you for even thinking that way. You ain’t leaving him any time soon, not if he can help it. You’re stuck with him till death do you part.
• Bob has a thing for your scent. It doesn’t matter if you’ve just finished working out, or just got out of the shower, Bob will bury his face in the crook of your neck and indulge in your scent. It’s addictive to him. A lot of your shirts and what not go missing since Bob takes them with him. He can instantly tell if you’re using a new perfume or cologne, hell he can even tell if you’re using a different brand of laundry detergent.
• Bob also gives you his clothes for the purpose of leaving your scent on them, plus the fact that he loves how they look on you. Now, if you’re wearing nothing else under a oversized shirt of his… Bob will pounce on you immediately, ravishing your skin with love bites and the works.
• Bob probably finds it hot if you do the same to him. But unlike you, he has no limits to the amount of pain you put him in. You could give him a playful bite and he will just freeze. You quickly notice his erratic breathing and the drool dripping down his chin as he presses your face into his chest. “Harder.” He even wants YOU to carve your initials in his skin so you could match. He wants you to dig your nails into his skin and bite him until he bleeds.
• Bob wants to be covered in your marks, and he means it. He wants all the bruises, the scratches, the bite marks, everything! Bob wants you to leave a mark on him, loving scars littered across his skin. He thinks it’s romantic and proves that he belongs to you only.
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happy birthday
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
summary: carmen reminds you it’s your birthday. the two of you celebrate in your own way.
word count: 0.8K
notes: got inspired by @superhoeva and her super cute carmen blurbs, def check her stuff out!! lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! requests are open!
By now, you’re used to closing up with Carmen. You were used to his routine of cleaning up and organizing, the order in which he’d do things, the cigarette you shared after you were done.
And Carmen had gotten used to you too. The songs you’d hum as you mopped the floor, the way you’d sneakily organize the documents on his desk, the way you always put the spices back in the wrong order, but it was fine, because it was you.
So needless to say you were a bit surprised when your usual routine was disturbed. You were in the middle of dusting off the cooker hood when he suddenly disappeared. “Carmy?” You’d called out, putting the cloth away for a moment to go look for him. What a great setup for a horror movie this would have been...
You walked into his office and looked around, until your eyes fell on a single slice of pie on his desk, adorned with a lit birthday candle. You raised an eyebrow, approaching and noticing the card besides it.
You noticed a shadow behind you, and there he was, leaning against the doorway. Though that still didn’t explain things for you, a confused expression remaining on your face. “What’s this for?” You question, gesturing to the dessert.
A small smile graced his typically tired features. “S’your birthday today.”
Oh.
Fuck, right.
“Oh... Shit.” You said, chuckling to yourself. You recalled you told him in passing over a month ago, complaining that you didn’t have time to celebrate and that the years were practically passing you by.
You sat down at his desk, inspecting the clearly store bought card. It read “it’s a girl!”, with “girl” crossed out in red sharpie and your age written beneath it.
“It was the only one they had left,” Carmen said, returning to sit at his desk with you with the rest of the pie. “I hope the pie makes up for it.”
You chuckled. “Absolutely,” you glanced at the candle”, “now do I make a wish or somethin’?”
“You can.” He started cutting himself a slice.
“Hm... Alright.” You leaned in, closing your eyes and blowing out the candle. “Now I gotta taste this. Made it yourself?”
He rolled his eyes, laughing sarcastically. “I’m offended you’d think I’d curse your birthday with store bought pie. Dig in.”
You obliged, taking a bite and leaning back in your seat, nodding. “Mhm, mhm... As expected, delicious.” You went in for another bite. “Never took you for a pastry chef.”
“Me neither,” He took a bite himself, “improvised a bit for the special occasion.”
Your heart fluttered slightly at the thought of him going out of his comfort zone a bit just to make you something nice. All for an occasion you didn’t even remember. As much as he sucked at showing it, he did really care about his crew. And... Maybe just a little more about you specifically. But he’d never admit that to the rest.
The two of you enjoy a slice of pie in relative silence, before returning to the parking lot, sitting on the curb, where he lit a cigarette.
“You know,” you started, “I haven’t done anything for my birthday in years.” You looked at him, the glow emitting from his lighter doing wonders for framing his face. Even after a painfully long shift, he was still so pretty. You’d even go as far the tiredness of his features added to his look.
“Well,” He handed you the cigarette, “hope this was a nice change of pace.” Your fingers linger over each other a little longer than usual when you take it from him.
“Yeah,” you smile, “it was.” You brought it to your lips, looking up at the night sky, and Carmen did the same. “Although I could think of something else that could have made it even better.”
Carmen smiled slightly, thinking your answer would have been something along the lines of “whipped cream” or “champagne”.
What he didn’t expect was to feel your hand on his cheek, bringing his attention towards you, and to feel your soft lips on his.
You flicked the cigarette to the side and tilted your head slightly, leaning in further to deepen the kiss. He returned it after getting over his initial surprise, hands not moving as he was still processing what was happening. Just like it had been ages since you’d celebrated your birthday, it had been ages since he’d been kissed. If he could even remember the last time...
You pulled away after a few moments, eyes remaining closed in fear of opening them and it all being a dream. They fluttered open at the feeling of his hand coming up to touch your jaw.
“Shit... That...” He started, eyes half lidded and cheeks tinged pink with a soft blush.
“Don’t you dare say ‘that was fire chef’...” You laughed and he followed along, foreheads leaning against each other as you both savored the moment.
“Well, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t.” He smiled, leaning in once again.
Damn.
You didn’t expect your birthday wish to come true so quickly.
tag list <3
@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar @spr3id @deadandstill
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Thank you for the commission, @silcatian! Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think this might be the first time I've written a Swap Sans! 👀 I went the true himbo route
---
“TSK! HONESTLY!”
...
Huh. You perked up, at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice- he didn't usually sound frustrated when cooking. Unless his brother had walked in with takeout. You closed your work laptop, getting up off the couch and heading into the kitchen.
“What is it?” You poked your head in. Sans was wearing his post-workout gear, fresh out of the shower, he looked remarkably handsome dressed in just shorts and a loose white top with ‘AWESOME DUDE’ written on the front in very faded black marker. He was holding a still-sealed packet of gnocchi and glaring at it; the stovetop was decorated by a saucepan of almost-boiling water, and a second shallower pan that contained some kind of pleasant smelling creamy sauce.
He narrowed his sockets at the packet, as he put it back on the countertop. “THIS GNOCCHI IS ENCOURAGING THE CONSUMPTION OF CARDBOARD AND PLASTIC! CARDBOARD AND PLASTIC IS NOT HEALTHY FOR HUMANS. THAT, I KNOW. I SHOULD’VE MADE MY OWN PASTA FOR OUR ROMANTIC DINNER! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WOO YOU IF MY COOKING IS FULL OF CARDBOARD AND PLASTIC?”
“... Erm...” You were trying not to laugh. You hadn’t been aware tonight was supposed to be a romantic dinner. “Explain a bit more...?”
He jabbed a finger, accusingly, at the packaging.
“THE TEXT HERE CLEARLY INSTRUCTS ME TO ‘ADD BOX TO BOILING WATER’!”
...
Oh my Stars.
You tried not to laugh. You really did. But you couldn’t help it, a little giggle came out.
“Sans...” You said, moving over to the countertop and picking up the offending box. “I’m pretty sure it means add the contents of the box.”
He glanced over at you, with those beautiful sky blue eyelights. “... REALLY?”
“... Yeah.” You scanned the package, and it just confirmed your suspicions. “You’ve bought a two person gnocchi serving. And you’re reading the part about ‘to serve two’. It just wanted you to use all the gnocchi in the box, boo.”
“HM.” He scratched his chin, but his happy aura didn’t lessen at all. He always took these things in stride. “WELL, I SUPPOSE THAT DOES MAKE A LOT MORE SENSE. I DID THINK IT WAS ODD.”
Your boyfriend was the smartest person you’d ever met, by no stretch of the imagination. But simultaneously, he was one of the most blunt, and easily confused.
He had multiple PhDs. That wasn't a joke, they were framed on the wall, he collected them mostly just for the fun of it. Statistics, mathematics, ‘puzzleology’ or something, a lot of space related stuff you didn’t understand. Numbers went through his head like he was a living calculator, his propensity for puzzles was absolutely unmatched and his eyelights merely had to scan something for him to make the most incredible difficult conclusions with total ease. A Sherlock in his own right. He explained astrophysics, both theoretical and non-theoretical, as easily as if he was explaining the answers to the morning crossword.
... And yet. He once asked you how to spell YMCA. On your first date, he pondered why humans got salmonella from raw eggs, because he thought it came from salmon. The two of you were watching a documentary about a lion pride and he asked if it was ‘based on a true story’.
Honestly? You just loved him more for it. It was funny and endearing. His line about salmonella had made you so giggly (much to his apparent delight) you’d thought about him all day- every Sherlock needs a Watson, right? You were not mathematically gifted, but that was okay. Sans did yours and his brother’s taxes because he just enjoyed crunching the numbers, and meanwhile, you could explain that when the recipe said the steak needed to ‘sit’ for half an hour, it didn’t mean on a chair. The two of you covered each other’s weaknesses.
Your running theory was that he was just too smart. Day-to-day stuff went over his skull, just like academic stuff went over yours. And that was okay. You knew he wouldn’t judge you for struggling with numbers, let alone for not understanding his long enthusiastic tangents about incredibly complex mathematical theories, he knew you wouldn’t judge him when he openly questioned why the plural of foot was feet but the plural of boot wasn’t beet.
...
... To be fair, you didn’t get that one either.
Sans opened the gnocchi and put it on to boil. It only needed a few minutes before it was already done, ready to strain. Sometimes, you just didn’t understand; he was an absolutely incredible cook, on your first date at his place he’d made seared ahi tuna steaks with some kind of delicious sweet lemony sauce, full of complicated flavours you didn’t understand, pulling out all the stops to impress you. It had completely blown your mind, especially when he openly admitted he wasn’t familiar with cooking with human food.
... And at the same time, when he made tacos for his brother, he filled them with glitter.
Non edible glitter.
You strained the gnocchi for him. It always surprised you, how fast the stuff cooked. He added the pasta to the sauce, tossing it all together and throwing in a little sprinkle of something green, then setting it down to reduce.
You leant back against the counter.
“... You know I’m already wooed, right?” You said, softly. “And not just by your cooking.”
“OF COURSE, BOO.” Confident as ever. “BUT I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH AND IT IS VERY IMPORTANT TO MAKE SURE YOU ARE RE-WOOED REGULARLY, TO ENSURE YOU FEEL APPRECIATED.”
You felt your cheeks get pinker. “Is that one from your dating manual?”
“NOPE.” He winked. “THAT’S A SANS ORIGINAL. MWEH-HEH.”
He held his hand out. You took it, linking your fingers with his bones and giving a gentle squeeze.
“... Well. Consider me feeling appreciated.”
He beamed. “EXCELLENT! MY DATE NIGHT WAS SUCCESSFUL, AND IT HASN’T EVEN STARTED YET!”
He had you giggling again. He always seemed to.
“Do you wanna eat on the couch? That new black hole documentary is on in twenty minutes.”
“ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO WATCH IT TOO?”
“Absolutely. You might have to explain some stuff to me, though. Like... the whole ‘time slowing down as you fall in’ thing.”
“WELL, IT’S VERY SIMPLE, ACTUALLY!” His eyelights flared up into stars, infectious grin spreading across his cheeks. “IF YOU WERE AN OBJECT APPROACHING A BLACK HOLE, IT WOULD APPEAR AS IF TIME WAS SLOWING AROUND YOU...”
You let him continue, allowing yourself to indulge in another of his tangents. You just liked hearing him talk about something he was interested in.
... He thought it was his cooking, good looks and dating manual advice that had won you over. And they certainly helped. But really... it was this sort of thing that had ‘wooed’ you, in the end.
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Always willing to send some smut beebs! Okay, so I have this fantasy where when I’m at work I imagine just getting my shit wrecked in the bathroom, so imagine Eddie coming in during your shift at Family Video and just bending you over the sink and making a MESS of you! And then you walk out, clothes and hair disheveled and Steve and Robin are just like “are you for real right now???” Just a thought lol
JUNIE, I LOVE THAT FOR YOU!!!! pls continue to let your imagination run fucking wild while you’re at work, give me more content to produce. This was stupid fun to write and now I feel like everyone should get fucked at work. I mean, I am but it’s not in the good way lol
𝐍𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝
(Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader smut)
warnings: unprotected sex, p-in-v, unrealistic workplace expectations :( , smut :)
“What the fuck is he doing?” You whispered out, eyes trained on the subject you were referring to.
“Uh, I’m pretty sure he’s, you know, looking at movies.” Robin said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. To her, and anyone else who might have observed him, it would have seemed so but not you. Not your trained eye.
Your boyfriend was making his way through the aisles, shoulders back and confidence radiating from him as he swaggered—for the fifth time—through the horror section, tossing a few of those curls you loved so much over his shoulder.
Eddie Munson was not looking for a new movie to watch, he was up to no good.
He’d asked you to bring home a couple of selections after your shift yesterday and they hadn’t been with him when he strode through the unlocked front door, bell jingling to announce his arrival. He’d greeted you, given you an incredibly inappropriate kiss involving some serious tongue action despite Keith being right freaking there, but your manager was so intimidated by Eddie that he had turned to face a wall and said nothing (you knew Steve would complain about not ever being able to get away with that, later). When he realized Eddie wasn’t going to just leave, Keith had left. Walked right out the front door. Then, Eddie had gone browsing.
And he’d been browsing for the past 27 minutes. You glanced quickly over at the clock above the wall.
28 minutes.
He had this eased expression on his face, too. Those pretty brown eyes were hooded as he plucked a tape off the shelf, glancing at the description on the back. And that fucking smile, most wouldn’t have noticed, but you were fluent in all things Eddie related and had clocked the twitch at the corners of his lips, a tell-tale sign of a smirk—no doubt, a mischievous one—he was holding back.
He hadn’t so much as glanced your way since he started ‘perusing’ (what a faker) your inventory.
You nudged Robin’s shoulder repeatedly, refusing to take your narrowed eyes off of your boyfriend, “Go ask him what he’s doing.”
“You go ask him what he’s doing, he’s your boyfriend.”
“I’ll go ask him what he’s doing,” Steve declared, rising from his hunched position.
The response from Robin and yourself was immediate and simultaneous.
“No.”
You knew how it’d go, Steve would ask that exact question, Eddie would say he was doing Steve’s mom or some relative, Steve would get offended and scramble for a poor excuse of a comeback and then spend the rest of his shift coming up with much cooler things he could have said that would have put Eddie’s burn to shame.
“Well, you can’t spend the rest of your shift staring at him. It’s creepy. Go, uh, check the girls restroom or something.” Steve waved his hand lazily, as he resumed slumping and continued to be a hypocrite; he’d been staring at a girl in the comedy section, trying to get her to turn and look at him with his gaze alone.
It wasn’t working. You and Robin would normally take bets on whether or not he’d be able to charm her when she was ready to be rung up, but you actually agreed with Steve.
“Don’t tell me what to do, I’m checking the guys restroom. The girls' restroom is always disgusting.” You announced and Steve spared you a quick glare before you disappeared to the back of the store where the small hallway that housed both restrooms was.
You went through the motions, knocking and announcing the restroom check. When no one replied, you pushed the door open, checked the three stalls, didn’t even approach the urinals (men can’t aim for shit, apparently) and had just finished washing your hands—when Eddie shouldered the door open, locking it behind him before he leaned his weight against it.
You bristled under his stare, somehow able to feel his gaze as it inched up your body.
“Can I help you?” You were teasing, obviously but you knew you were in trouble when that smirk Eddie had been trying to hide earlier emerged.
He was on you in a flash, hand around the back of your neck as he eagerly licked into your mouth. You moaned against his tongue, hands flying to rest on his sides as he just about devoured you.
He tasted like cigarettes, a habit he was trying to kick because you didn’t like it, and the banana he had most likely eaten before dropping by.
“Eddie,” You were breathless as he pressed a bruising kiss to your lips before trailing down your jaw, to the side of your neck, biting down on that spot just below you ear.
“Been thinking about you all day,” Eddie easily lifted you onto the sink, stepping in between your thighs so he could grind the erection in his pants against your clothes covered cunt, the friction provided by the rough material of your jeans making you whimper.
“You looked so fucking good when you left this morning, baby. Had to jerk off twice but it still wasn’t enough,” Eddie’s fingers made quick work of your button and zipper, slipping his fingers down your mound. You flinched at the cold press of his rings against the touch sensitive skin, but once the rough pads of his fingers met your clit, everything else was forgotten. “Couldn’t wait ‘til you got home, so I had to come to you and now you’re gonna come for me.”
Oh, God.
Eddie’s fingers dipped lower and he grinned when they swiped through your slick, your entrance already soaked and waiting for him.
“Already, baby? Ruining your panties and I haven’t even gotten started, yet.” He tsked, middle finger slipping into your hole, still prepped from last night’s (and early morning’s) activities.
Your cunt sucked it in, eager for more as he pressed at your gummy walls. When Eddie found no resistance, he slipped his ring finger in alongside it.
You gripped the sides of the counter, whining out as your hips grinded down against his hand. It wasn’t enough.
“Eddie, please!”
“Mm, please what? What does my girl need?”
Under literally any other circumstances, you would have been a sucker for his teasing. Not now, though. Not when he had you this desperate and with a short window of time—Robin or Steve could come looking for you, or a customer could need to use the restrooms and end up hearing you.
“Eddie, if you don’t put your dick inside of me right fucking now, I will never fuck you again.”
It was a lie, you both knew it but Eddie was too amused and too hard to deny you. He pulled you off the sink, flipping you around so you were facing the mirror, taking in your slightly disheveled appearance. Your skin had more color than normal, your mascara was smearing slightly under your eyes, but it was Eddie you couldn’t take your eyes off.
Not when his were burning right back into yours. He pressed a kiss to your ear, giving it a nip as he yanked your jeans and panties down your hips, crooning, “You’re so pretty, sweetheart. Always so cute and put together, makes me wanna tear you apart. Can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you in a restroom like some slut, you must really want it, huh? You want me, baby?”
“Uh-huh,” You couldn’t say much more, Eddie’s mouth trailed down the side of your neck, sucking a purple mark directly over your pulse point. You were so absorbed in his ministrations, you didn’t even notice he’d unbuckled his belt and pulled his own pants down low enough to pull his cock out until he pushed you forward and you gripped the sink again for balance. He didn’t even give you a warning before his tip caught where your hole was drooling for him and he cracked you open on his cock, spearing into you—balls deep—in one thrust.
Your mouth dropped open from the shock and pleasure, how you didn’t let out a scream was unbeknownst to you.
“Yeah,” he breathed out through gritted teeth as he placed his hands on your hips and forced you to fuck yourself back on him, “I know you do.”
Eddie didn’t just fuck one way, sex was an art to him and he adapted to art styles. Sometimes he’d take his time with you, pick you apart with his hands and mouth for hours before he even gave you his cock, sometimes he made love to you; slow, tender and so precise, he had you begging and babbling for him. And then there were the times he’d literally just fuck you hard and stupid. This was one of those times.
You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only grip onto the counter for dear life as he speared you open and bullied your cunt, balls slapping against your ass.
“Fuck, you hear that?” Eddie panted out. Yeah, you could. A constant squelch, timed with his thrusts. You might not have been able to form words, but your pussy had no problem making noise, audaciously loud.
“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.” Your head dropped as you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt a rush of your own slick slip out of your core to drench Eddie’s cock. You couldn’t help it, not when he talked to you like that.
Eddie cursed, fingers indenting into your flesh as he, too, felt it. You chanced a glance at the mirror, your cunt clenching around him when you saw Eddie had his head thrown back as he fucked into you, his own eyes squeezed shut while his eyebrows pinched together, mouth open in a sneer of concentration. It was the face he made when he was trying not to cum.
Eddie’s eyes snapped open, catching your desperate gaze in the mirror and he reached a hand down between your legs, rubbing brutal circles into your clit.
“I’m not gonna last,” he promised, the sweat on his brow glistening, “So, I’m gonna need you to cum on my cock now.”
It wasn’t a suggestion, his other hand slid from its position on your hips, under your shirt and pressed into your lower stomach as his hips pounded into you. It was too much.
“Fuck, Eddie!” You cried out when your orgasm rang through you, thighs quivering as the euphoric sensation bloomed just under your skin and you clenched, spilling erratically around Eddie’s cock just like he wanted, like he knew you would.
“I’m cummin—sweetheart, I’m cumming inside, I’m gonna cum-oh fuck,” Eddie’s breath hitched as he thrusted a final time, stilling when your ass was pressed to the curls at the base of his cock. You could feel the spurts hit your walls, feel his cock twitch as he emptied himself inside of you. His warm seed, combined with your own spend, dripped down the insides of your thighs to stain the inside of your jeans.
You stayed connected for a few moments as you both came down, then you straightened and Eddie kissed the side of your head before he slipped out of you, laughing at the reflection of the grossed out face you made. The thing about bodily fluids is they cool at an alarming rate, while it had been sexy in the moment, his cum now felt like slime. And that slime was pooling in your good pair of jeans.
“Ew,” you muttered while Eddie tucked himself back into his pants. He left you momentarily to retrieve some toilet paper which you used to hastily wipe up the mess. “You couldn’t cum like on my back, or something?”
Eddie just shrugged his shoulders, looking entirely pleased with himself. “Stop being hot, then we wouldn't even have this problem.”
Another glance into the mirror roused a suspicion in you: there was no way Robin and Steve wouldn’t know you just fucked Eddie in the Family Video restroom. You both looked too frumpled, and Eddie’s ‘Just Got Laid’ face (a very satisfied smirk and hooded bedroom eyes) wasn’t going anywhere. Neither was the hickey on your neck.
That suspicion was confirmed when you and Eddie walked back out of the hall and found Robin and Steve standing side by side behind the counter, staring at you with matching deadpan expressions.
Eddie’s lips pursed in amusement before he gave you a surprisingly tame kiss. “You’re off in—what? Half an hour?”
You nodded, still a little mortified at the fact that they knew.
“I’ll wait for you in the van,” then he leaned in closer, mouth brushing against your ear, “and I can show you what happens to bad girls who get mouthy when they’re horny.”
Eddie pressed another kiss to your forehead and slipped past you towards the door, waving his fingers at Robin and Steve before the jingle announced his exit.
“Soooooo…” You joined the two, who only blinked at you, faces drained of any joy as you grinned sheepishly. “Restroom is clean.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“You look like you walked out of one of the bad pornos from the curtain section.”
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