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just-some-random-blogger · 21 hours ago

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I said I was going to reblog this when I woke up. That was today and now I'm sleepy and about to go to sleep but I REFUSSSE TO DO SO BECAUSE MY GOSSHHH THIS GOD MEEEEE SOMMEEEEEE TYPAAA WAYYYYY HELLO????????? 😫😫😫😫😫😫

Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

I cannot put into words how this like... Changed my brain???? Like it's so beautiful and sensible and yah. That part. That would 100% happen if you were dating a twin like hello? Also idk the thought just makes me swoon ))))):

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.”

JSJDJDJSJJSJSJSJJSHSHSHHSHA HES SO STUPID THIS IS WHY HES MY FAVE BB GIRL ARE YOU SINGLE IM TRYNA GET YOU PREGNANT AYO MY GUY WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN WHEN YOU SAY THIS UR SO SILLY WTFFFFFF IM GIGGLING LIKE I GET PAID TO DO IT

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

HE REALLY SAID SIS LOUDER AND

“If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

NASJJSJSBSJJSJSB IM SO SORRY THE GEORGE GIRLIE IN ME WANTS SO GO HELL YEAH LETS MAKE THAT RAT FREDDIE RUE THE DAY HE WAS BORN 😫😈😈😈 HES JUST SO DARLING I LUV HIM HES SO SILLY AND STUPID FUCKKKK

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

👏THAT👏PART👏 RIP HIM TO SHREDS GEORGE. ANNIHILATE THAT GINGER GIT

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?”

EXCUSE ME

He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch.

.... WHAT ABOUT IT

“Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?”

❓❓❓❓ DI BALE SANA NANDITO KA???? HELLO

(tr: NEVERMIND IF YOU WERE ACTUALLY HERE. and the pick is let's go stupid/idiot)

You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

I fear I may be quaking in my boots... It's not the only thing quaking.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.”

NO CUZZZZ

His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

I love icarusing myself WHAT ABOUT IT WEASLEY

HES GOT SUCH A DIRTY MOUTH ON HIMMMMMMM FUCKKKK OFFF

“Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

Raw. Next twin.

“My little whore needs more?”

“Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.”

Brat tame me then 🙄✋ I dare you also

Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

VIOLENTLY SHAKING IM ILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

UghhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD NEXT TWIN LMAO HAHAHAHHH

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

#harry potter fic #fred Weasley fic #fred weasley smut

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lune-moon-nuit · 15 hours ago

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The influence of conformity & gender stereotypes on the characters of Stranger Things but also on US (the general audience)

The moment I stumbled upon the arguments of "anti-Byler," the most commonly cited one was their outright denial of heteronormative pressures and societal expectations that are instilled in us from a young age. These same dynamics influenced Mike and the other characters in Stranger Things. This realization brought to mind a personal childhood anecdote that illustrates this phenomenon perfectly.

I must have been around ten years old because I remember this happening on the bus ride home from a school trip to watch Ratatouille. At the time, I had recently befriended a boy in my class—we had been seated next to each other, which gave us more opportunities to talk than when I’d usually stick with my girlfriends during recess while he played soccer with the boys. (Just describing this setup already paints a clear picture of gender stereotypes and heteronormativity, even though this was in 2007—25 years after 1982, to put things into perspective.)

When I say we had grown closer, I mean that two kids had developed a friendship: we laughed together, enjoyed each other’s company, and simply got along well. But I vividly remember sitting face-to-face with Maximilien—yes, I suddenly recalled his name as I was writing this! Maximilien, with his freckles and ginger hair—and we were laughing and talking about the movie. At one point, I playfully held two strands of his hair between my fingers, pretending to guide him like Rémy from Ratatouille.

It was then that I noticed, just behind Maximilien's smiling face, my classmates observing us from the next row. They were whispering and giggling, their glances unmistakably filled with mischief. I immediately understood what they were thinking. Later that day, they confronted me, insisting, “You’re in love with Maximilien!”

I felt embarrassed and awkward. But the truth is, before their remarks, the idea hadn’t even crossed my mind. To me, Maximilien was simply a friend, someone I enjoyed spending time with. It wasn’t until my friends planted that seed of doubt that I began to question my feelings. For the rest of the school year, I convinced myself I had a crush on him.

Looking back, this memory perfectly encapsulates how deeply societal conditioning affects us, even as children. At ten years old, we were already internalizing heteronormative narratives from our peers, advertisements, media, movies, and TV shows. Everything around us reinforced the notion that if a boy and a girl were close, they had to be more than friends.

This anecdote resurfaced in my mind recently, and it struck me how pervasive this conditioning was—even in 2007, when societal attitudes had already progressed somewhat compared to the 1980s. Now imagine how amplified this must have been in the '80s, which sheds light on the behaviors of Lucas, Dustin, and Nancy (and others by the way) in Stranger Things.

These three characters—Lucas, Dustin, and Nancy—each insinuated that Mike had romantic feelings for El based solely on his acts of kindness and care for her. It becomes much easier to understand their reactions when you realize they were operating under the same heteronormative assumptions that shaped our childhoods. After all, didn’t we all have our own versions of Lucas and Dustin who convinced us we were in love with our Maximilien or El?

Before Lucas’s heteronormative remark, Mike had done nothing more than show empathy for El—protecting her and taking care of her after she told him she was being hunted by “bad men” and that her life was in danger. Mike’s actions stemmed from compassion and the fact that she had information about Will’s disappearance, not romantic interest. Their interactions were simply those of two kind-hearted kids getting to know each other, with Mike admiring her powers (like any kid fascinated by superheroes) and El being drawn to Mike’s stable family life—a concept foreign to her.

But then Lucas planted that tiny seed: “If you’re this nice to her, you must be in love with her.” From that point on, Mike started behaving more timidly around El, his perception of their interactions skewed by Lucas’s words. Dustin reinforced this by accusing Mike of neglecting their friendship because of El, which was a childish and reductive observation considering the circumstances. Nancy, too, perpetuated this when she directly asked Mike, “You like El?” after he inquired about her feelings for Jonathan.

All these comments were rooted in internalized heteronormativity—small seeds planted in Mike by his friends, just as their families, communities, and society had once planted similar seeds in them.

The result? Mike simply conformed to what he thought he was supposed to feel. If everyone said he loved El, then he must love her, right? So he invited her to the Snow Ball and kissed her—because that’s what he believed he was “meant” to do. After all, she had superpowers like the heroes he admired, and as a bullied, insecure boy who often felt powerless, her attention gave him a sense of validation. She needed him, depended on him, and he felt useful and in control by taking care of her.

At the same time, he barely knew her—they’d only spent a week together, and beyond the immediate crisis and her love of Eggo waffles, there wasn’t much else he understood about her. Still, this fleeting connection gave him emotional and psychological comfort during Will’s disappearance and presumed death—a situation where he felt utterly helpless.

All of this resulted in Mike simply doing what he thought he was supposed to feel and do: "If everyone says I love her, then I must love her, right? So let's invite her to the dance and kiss her! Besides, she has powers like my favorite superheroes—that's pretty cool for a bullied boy who looks like a frog, isn't it? If she's interested in me, wouldn’t that prove I'm normal after all? Plus, she depends on me, she needs me, she's lost without me, and I have to take her under my wing. I feel useful taking care of her! It's only been seven days since I met her, so honestly, apart from the urgent situation we're in, I know almost nothing about her except that she likes waffles. But at least, during this week, we needed each other, and emotionally and psychologically, it helped me cope with the disappearance and presumed death of my best friend—a friend who vanished after leaving my house, where I feel 100% powerless to protect or save him. Having some sense of control by taking care of El, who clearly needs me, might just be my way of projecting? Also, she looks like a boy with her short hair, and she was mistaken for Will three times throughout the season—what a coincidence!"

I also noticed that in Season 4, the Duffer Brothers repeatedly wrote into the script how Robin and Steve are often mistaken for a couple by others. This happens because people don’t know Robin is a lesbian, but more importantly, because they can’t comprehend how Robin and Steve can be so close, so in sync, and have such incredible chemistry without being romantically involved. And yes, it’s absolutely possible—some people can be your soulmate without being in a romantic relationship with you. In fact, there are relationships that are healthier and more balanced as friendships rather than as romantic partnerships, and the people involved often realize this themselves. This doesn’t diminish the genuine love they have for each other. They love each other, they don’t want to lose one another, it’s just not romantic. It doesn’t take away from the strength or depth of the bond they share—it’s simply a different kind of love for a different kind of relationship.

This dynamic becomes even more compelling when you consider how heteronormativity shaped not only Mike’s understanding of his feelings but also everyone else’s perceptions of their relationship. Like Lucas, Dustin, and Nancy, we’ve all been influenced by these societal norms, projecting them onto others and perpetuating them, often without even realizing it.

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v6quewrlds · 2 days ago

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PLEASE HEAR ME OUT; we saw the stream of tee listention to bmf by sza; so an imagine request could be; reader in her universe or wtv wrote that bc yk her and tee are together. and tee didn't know, and she just randomly posted new song out go enjoy, and when its released let's see tee is on stream and everyone's saying like tee reader dropped a new songs and he goes huh and so he calls her and is like did you just drop a song and she goes maybe and he goes to listen to and is like wait, is this about me and then gets really cute and excited that its about him

imagine writing a song about tee.

Tee was bored out of his mind.

The quietness of the off-season was usually a welcome reprieve from the chaos of football, but today, it felt like a prison sentence. His eyes darted from the TV playing the Notre Dame game to his phone and back again, searching for anything to fill the void. That's when he decided to set up his chair, pop his headset on, and start up his Twitch, hoping the time would fly by.

"Yo, what's good," Tee greeted his viewers with his usual enthusiasm. His screen flickered to life, displaying his face and the den behind him. The chatter in the chat grew as fans typed away, eager to interact with the star wide receiver.

Mid-game, the notifications started pouring in. "YOUR GIRL SURPRISE DROPPED," one fan exclaimed. "It's trending on Twitter," added another. Tee's heart skipped a beat. He paused the game and leaned in closer to the camera, his eyes searching the chat for more information. He hadn't heard a peep from you about this. You were in New York, tucked away upstate to finish recording your third album.

"Fuck is y'all talkin' about? My girl dropped?" Tee said into the mic, his eyes darting between the chat and his phone. He sent you a text, his thumbs moving at the speed of light. "Nobody told me nothing," he muttered under his breath. The notifications on his phone went wild, with fans sending links to Spotify and Apple Music.

After deciding you were taking too long to answer his text, he dialed your number, putting the call on speaker. It rang twice before you picked up, your voice as smooth as honey. "Hi, baby," you drawled out, playing it cool.

"Don't 'hi, baby' me," Tee said, trying to keep his own cool. "Did you really drop a new song?"

You giggled, the sound echoing through the room. "Maybe," you hummed coyly.

Tee rolled his eyes. "You playing with me?"

Your laughter grew. "I don't know. I miss you though."

Tee felt a tug at his heart. "Miss you too, but tell me about this song," he urged, trying to ignore the flutters in his chest.

"Why don't you play it and see?" you suggested, your voice dripping with mischief.

Tee's heart was racing. He pulled up Spotify on his other screen and searched for the new release. Sure enough, there it was: "BMF". He hit play and put the phone back on speaker. The song started off pleasant before the beat dropped, and your velvety voice filled the room.

Young and fine and dark and handsome The boy from Tennessee keeps bossing And I can't keep my panties from dropping

Tee's hand came down to press pause before the rest of the verse could reach his ears. "Hold on, is this about me?" He was grinning wide, a laugh bubbling up from his chest in disbelief.

Your giggles grew louder over the phone. "You're supposed to play it, listen with your ears, baby," you teased, your voice full of excitement and a hint of nerves.

Tee's smile was uncontainable as he hit play again. He leaned back into his chair, eyes on the lyrics scrolling by. The song continued as Tee continued smiling wide. He listened intently as the words painted a picture of your feelings for him. The fans in his chat went wild, posting heart-eye emojis and shouting out their love for the couple.

Know my baby packing, why I'm stuck That's why he my man

He couldn't help but press pause again, rising out of his chair to do a little victory dance. "Chat, y'all hearing this shit? This is about me!" The room was alive with the energy of his laughter and the thumping bass of the track. "Baby girl, you out here talking crazy. Goddamn!"

Your giggles turned into full-blown laughter. "I had to," you said, the sweetness in your voice contrasting with the explicit nature of the lyrics. "Just finish the song."

By the time the song wrapped up, Tee couldn't help but feel over the moon. He had heard rumors about artists writing songs for their significant others, but never thought it would happen to him. His cheeks were sore from smiling so much. He sat back down, his eyes gleaming with pride and love.

"So, what do you think?" You asked.

Tee looked at the screen, his mind racing with thoughts. "Baby girl, that shit is fire. Like, for real," he said, nodding his head in time with the beat that he decided to loop for a second play.

"You like it?" Your voice was a mix of relief and excitement.

"Like it?" Tee scoffed, his laughter still echoing in the room. "I love it, baby. You went off, baby, damn." His chest puffed out a bit, unable to contain his pride. The fans in the chat were going crazy, sending love to the couple and praising the song. Tee read some of the comments out loud, his smile growing wider with each one.

Your laugh was music to his ears. "Thank you, baby. I wanted to surprise you."

Tee leaned in closer to the mic. "Surprise? You could've just called me to tell me this. You ain't have to go and make a whole song about it," he joked, winking at the camera.

"Mute yourself for a second?" you said, your voice taking on a more sweet tone. Tee's eyes widened, and he quickly muted the stream before you could say anything more.

#&. tee.#i'm working on more tee stuff dw <3 #tee higgins x reader #tee higgins #tee higgins imagine #tee higgins fic #x black reader #black!reader

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moonmaiden1996 · 3 days ago

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💯 Sure Sanji has a breeding kink. Deep down he wishes to have the family he never had. 🥺 This boy wants to make many babies with his wife. 👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻

Okay — this ^^^^^^ is 100% canon in my mind, no debate. Sanji absolutely has a breeding kink. Hear me out!

18+ and spoilers

There has to be a reason why our poor baby boy’s mind is always on romance and finding a partner. Sure, he’s a perv (we can all agree on that, no arguments here), but his desperation runs much deeper than that. Sanji doesn’t just want a partner for fleeting moments of passion—he craves family.

From a young age, Sanji was ostracised and mistreated by his own family. His deranged, power-hungry father created a twisted nightmare for him and his siblings, enhancing them for his sick dreams of domination. Sanji wasn’t like them, though. His loving heart and humanity set him apart, and for that, he endured endless cruelty. His brothers mocked him, and his father cast him aside. Worst of all, he bore the guilt of his mother’s sacrifice, despite her unwavering love. That love—pure and selfless—shaped Sanji. It’s in everything he does: the way he cooks, the way he loves, and the way he dreams.

So, let’s be honest. It’s only logical that Sanji wants children, and lots of them. Episode 217, anyone? That man was practically rocking back and forth in glee, imagining the child he could have with Nami.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Fatherhood terrifies him. But still…

Sanji wants you pregnant. And as soon as possible.

He would never admit this outright—no chance. Sanji is far too insecure and mortified to share something so deeply personal. You’re a queen, and he feels unworthy of even thinking about such things, let alone telling you. The truth only tumbles out when he feels completely safe and content… in your arms or buried deep within you.

His hips roll languidly as you writhe beneath him, his eyes fixed on your face, captivated by the pleasure written across it. "That’s… that’s it, my love… mmmhmm," he moans, his fingers finding that bundle of nerves between your legs while his thrusts expertly hit that heavenly little spot inside you.

The way you flutter around him is more powerful than any Haki, and for you, he’d do anything.

"My darling… you look so good…" The words spill out before he can stop them, unfiltered and needy. His balls are heavy, he’s desperate, and you look like an absolute goddess beneath him. The moment he realises what he’s said, his heart sinks. Your sparkling eyes meet his wide, panic-stricken gaze, and he’s already ready to tie himself to a cannonball and sink to the bottom of the sea.

"I’m sorry, my love… I would never—"

But you love him, and you’re just as kinky as he is. "Is that what you really want?"

Sanji is utterly powerless against you. With your velvety walls gripping him so tightly, he can only nod frantically, his usual composure completely gone.

"Then fill me up," you moan, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer.

If he wasn’t already madly in love with you, he certainly is now especially as you milk him for every drop.

Even with the condom the thrill of imagining you full of him is intoxicating. Watching himself leak from you, knowing he’s given you every drop—it’s enough to keep him coming in a state of esctasy. But it’s not just a kink for Sanji; it’s a need. He’s destined to be a dad.

That said, Sanji is practical. He knows the life of a Straw Hat is far too dangerous for you to be safe during pregnancy. So, he’ll make a quiet trip to Chopper to get you a safe and effective contraceptive, ensuring it won’t harm you in any way. Once that’s sorted? All bets are off. This man will pump you full multiple times a day, whispering sweet nothings as he carefully stuffs any stray drops back into your trembling body.

When the time finally comes, when Luffy is King of the Pirates and Sanji has set up his dream restaurant, there will be no more barriers. Before the ribbon is even cut, you’ll be pregnant. But don’t worry—Sanji will treat you like royalty, doting on you and your blossoming family he has time for you and for the restaurant.

By the time he’s done, you’ll have a crew big enough to run the entire restaurant and keep up with Uncle Luffy’s appetite.

So what do you think?

I love all the asks you send me! Please keep them coming—for Sanji or any character. But someone, please, send me something about Corazon next he is adorable. Him and Sanji omg

#one piece #black leg sanji #sanji vinsmoke #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla #opla x reader

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fuckyeahmhawkefenris · 2 days ago

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I promised myself that I would never ever bring it up because I have enough stress in my life already and these discussions take up a lot of time and energy and require a lot more witt and eloquence than I posess.

But.

This wound has been out there for many many years, and I feel that now it starts festering again, and since I have taken it upon myself to preserve our history, I feel that it would be simply wrong to remain silent when I have something to say.

So, you probably know I make fenhawke renders in XPS using models extracted from da2.

My Fenris model uses these textures

But I must point out that I had to manually edit them to look like this, because the original game textures look like this:

(I believe they do, because the dude who shared the models only did the extracting, and is not known for editing textures)

Want to know why I did what I did?

Because I spent much much MUCH more time looking at fanart of Fenris, than playing the actual game, and at some point it started feeling wrong to me to have him so pale. My vision of him was influenced by the fandom.

That doesn't change the fact that THAT's how he looks in the game.

Can you see where I'm going with this?

Come and tell me that it's impossible to take him for a generic white dude.

Racism is bad, duh

Whitewashing dark skinned characters is bad, DUH

Many of you may have gotten immersed in the wide world of modding (I can't do it, all known mods change too much about Fenris for my liking, and I need him to have his iconic features), but

can we please stop pretending that Fenris in the original game was obviously depicted as dark skinned?

Because that's some stupid bullshit that had caused and still causes a great number of people, mostly artists (often casual fans), a lot of distress, and outright promotes bullying hiding it behind an image - illusion - of social justice.

Yeah, in 2014 we got Dorian and Krem and some others in DAI, finally seeing what people of Tevinter look like.

But guess what? In 2012 we had no idea, and could only guess. Back then we actually had discussions about this, offering opinions and not being afraid to talk? In 2012 we did not really know how to portray Fenris, and artists made their own choices.

In da2 the only tevinters we encountered were

For the best, probably, because had they been depicted as dark skinned, that would have likely become a case of some very unfortunate implications. Looks pretty hopeless to me, either way.

ETA: and of course I forgot Fenris's SISTER

I'm not saying that racism is not an issue in this fandom. It is, obviously, like anywhere else.

But can you imagine a person who played DA2 (exclusively, without getting into DAO or DAI or trying to explore the fandom and looking at more fanart), taking a liking to Fenris and deciding to make fanart of him and sharing it with the fandom, and then having angry anons come to their ask box accusing them of racism? For depicting Fenris in the only way that is known to them?

Think about it for a minute.

I've witnessed a number of such happenings over my time here, and I've been around since 2012.

If you take the time to look at our old fanart, you'll find various depictions of Fenris. Some darker, some lighter, but back then NOTHING could be considered wrong, because we had too little to go on.

It would have been funny had it not been so bloody SAD to see older pictures circulating the net and read comments filled with rage and hurt over whitewashing brown characters.

I get it, you want to fight for justice, but THIS is not JUSTICE.

That right there is some act 3 Meredith level of lunacy seeing blood magic everywhere and condemning innocent mages.

Before you decide to go harass an artist who made a picture that does not match your vision, take a few minutes to think about how justified it would be. Weigh your options and at least choose your words carefully.

I shudder to think how many potential fans had been put off and turned away from this fandom, left wondering wth is wrong with us.

#dragon age 2 #da2 #fenris #aboutFenris

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rahuratna · 2 days ago

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Synopsis: [Astarion x Reader/Tav] Wilful, witty, vulnerable and endearing, Astarion blossoms slowly under the ever-present sunshine of your love.

CW: Explicit sexual content, mentions of past trauma.

Banner art: by Steven Nederveen

Dividers: @aquazero

" ... time and again

No fire where I lit my spark

I am not afraid of the dark

Where your words devour my heart ... "

~ lyrics from Distant Sun (by Crowded House)

His scent infiltrates your dreams, the dry floral notes and the rusty tang of old blood, the unique underlying essence that never fails to bring his face to the forefront of your mind.

When he falls asleep, back pressed to yours, it is merely a prelude to how you wake the following morning, with his head tucked into the crook of your neck, or pillowed between your breasts, the soft white curls grazing your cheek as you keep your breathing light and even, so as not to interrupt his slumber. You know the gentle scent of his scalp better than anyone has a right to.

There is something that goes far beyond the pleasures of the flesh when you are together like this; two easily doused candle-flames that reach for each other, flickering, across the distance of bleak memory, pain and loss.

Such a tenuous connection, so easily fractured. Yet, even through all the trials you've faced thus far, losing him had somehow transformed into an idea you simply would not countenance.

The land might burn, your enemies might dance on the ashes of the people you had failed, but Astarion's fingers winding uncertainly through yours would be the only sensation you wanted to experience at the end of the world.

You thought about it now, as rain pattered on the roof of your tent, the inside dry and warm from the heat of the enchanted lamp. He had joined you a short while earlier, wordlessly, as was his habit. To give voice to the immensity of what he had to overcome, every single time he entered your tent of his own free will, would be more than he was capable of fully processing at this time.

He lay beside you now, with his chin propped against the top of your head.

He was awake.

"Astarion?"

"Darling."

"What kind of weather do you like best?"

He was silent for a while. You lay still, relaxed. When you were together like this, pauses in conversation could sometimes stretch out for ages, because time ceased to place its shackles on either of you. Even the most mundane topic was up for discussion. Words filled space with comfort. Stolen time was sacred time.

"Hmm. Weather like this, I suppose. It makes being inside feel ... somewhat better."

"You certainly weren't born for the outdoors."

He raised his fingernails for you to inspect.

"Absolutely not! Look at these beauties. Imagine if they became stained with grass, or earth, or worse still ... chipped."

"That would be grievous indeed," you concurred with hushed solemnity.

A low rumble of amusement made its way up through his throat.

"What about you, my dove? If I could guess - "

"Cooler weather. Maybe breezy."

His touch skims, feather-light, up your arm. In times past, such an action would have been a clear provocation, an invitation to something more intimate. You acknowledge it in your mind, absorb it, like a plant takes in sunlight. Astarion is your sun, small and fitful, burning you down to the bone when you least expect it, fighting for his place in your universe.

You reach out, fingertips brushing his. He pauses, allowing your hands to connect, palm to palm. His fingers are longer than yours, strong, clever. You've seen him take apart complex locking mechanisms with such ease, the same ease with which he'd unraveled your body the first time you'd been together.

"Where did you learn to pick locks?"

He lowered his hand and lay back, staring at the roof of the tent. You splayed out at his side, two children watching the imagined turn of the heavens.

"I ... think I learned it from a criminal. One I represented in a case, long ago. He was talkative. Couldn't shut him up, really. Told me how he had cracked a simple safe. I followed his instructions on a similar safe, as a demonstration."

"And you succeeded?"

You could almost sense the curve of his mouth.

"On the first try. He was so proud. Ha. Called me a natural."

You turned your head, smiling slightly. He looked self-satisfied, in that manner of a cat that gets into the choice cream.

Gods, he was lovely to look at, here in your tent, with you. Your gaze traces the impossibly artful tangle of pale curls, the elegant bridge of his nose, the sharp corners of his scarlet eyes and the movement of his perfectly curved lips.

He cocked an eyebrow, expression growing predatory, knowing.

"Darling, you're staring."

You laughed.

"Do you blame me?"

"Honestly? No."

He propped himself on an elbow, playfully prodding at your face until you're forced to swat at him. He sobered suddenly, hands falling away. You suspect you know what he's about to ask. It's never far away from his thoughts, after all.

"Is this enough for you? Just talking? Just falling asleep together?"

You also know by now that words aren't adequate to allay his fears. Turning over on your side, you face him, fingers tracing softly over the profile you'd admired a few moments ago. You smooth out the worry lines on his forehead, the skin cool and smooth as marble beneath your touch.

"This is more then enough. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because these are the things I've always wanted."

Your index finger trails down to the tip of his nose, where you decide a kiss needs to be placed. He leans forward, unknowingly.

"You wanted ... this? How we are now?"

"Yes. A lover is nice and all, Astarion, but I've always wanted a partner. Someone to laugh with. Someone to grouse to. Someone to sit with their back to mine in the cold and share my bread with me. Someone to whisper to when the darkness grows closer."

He is silent for a bit, hesitating. You pass your thumbs across the high cheekbones, watching as he falls slowly into the comforting familiarity of the contact. When he speaks, something bitter catches in his throat.

"But I'm not ... capable of some of those things, you know. I can't keep you warm with my body. I can't laugh like others do. I can't eat with you, nor can I claim that darkness hasn't found a permanent home inside me."

You stroke across the corners of his mouth, avoiding his lips and then track upwards once again, along the delicate point of his ears, into the feathery silk of his hair.

"That's all right."

"It is?"

"It is, because I say so. Astarion, very few people actually end up inhabiting the castles they build in the air. Sometimes, they find a real home. A home that's so much better. A place they belong."

His voice has now sunk to a whisper.

"Am I ... that to you?"

"Yes."

He is silent, and you don't press him. Sometimes, it is better to inform him of the way you feel and to give him time to mull it over. He shifts, restless, before planting a sudden, rather solid kiss on your lips.

There is no artifice behind it, no coy seduction. It is surprisingly factual, a statement of feeling, of earnest intent.

"I'll have you know," he states seriously, "that I won't have you comparing me to some homely log cabin. Oh no. I'm nothing short of a stately, luxurious home, built on the side of a sharp precipice, overlooking the most glorious snd treacherous sea."

"That's a rather precarious position to be in, don't you think?"

He sits up on his haunches, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes now animated and captivating.

"But that's half the fun! Will a terrible tempest come along and sweep us away? Will a sea monster rise up from the depths and capture us in its jaws?"

His feral grin is now infectious. You straighten and face him.

"You're only thinking in terms of disasters! That's poor planning. What about the subtle magics of the air that work directly against rock over time? Erosion is as dangerous as any sea monster, you know. Just a tad less showy."

"And what, darling, do you suggest we do about this mortal peril we find ourselves in?"

"We do exactly as we've done so far. We hammer the walls furiously into place, then drink wine and dance and stamp our feet to see how the repairs hold up."

He throws back his head and lets out a laugh, warm, heady, the kind that roughens around the edges and brims with the wicked delight that you know has kept him alive, for all of this time. Unable to help yourself, you place a gentle kiss to the curve of his throat, moving away again, until he grasps your chin firmly and tugs you back.

His mouth is a stark contrast to the way his fingers sink almost desperately into your cheeks, a gentle mapping out of teeth, tongue, sealed with the exquisite drag of his fangs across your lip.

Forehead pressed to yours, he breathes out the words, as if they've been chained in the heavy confines of his chest.

"I want to ... I want ... you. I want ... this."

He has said the words before, under different circumstances. You know what he is referring to. Gently, you push him back. The dim light turns the red of his gaze to the flesh of a pomegranate, tempting, yielding, so easily crushed between your fingers.

"Astarion ... you don't have to - "

"I know. I know you'll wait for me for God knows how long, and I don't know why, because I - "

He bites his lip, but changes tack.

"The reasons ... are important. I know that better than anyone. But I don't want to think. I want to feel. I want to be able to just do this without - "

Worldssly, you draw him towards you, cradling his head against your chest, a return to the familiar. It's the only message that's ever mattered, at least, to you. That he always has a place, whether in your open arms, or across the breadth of the world, or in another realm altogether.

He'll occupy a space that can be filled by no other, with his easy charm, his bruised smile, the bitter twist of his spirit and every sharp edge that slices you open and infiltrates the furthest corners of your heart, nesting there as if the scars that form around them are the most cherished haven.

"What do you want, Astarion?"

"To feel you."

He speaks into the hush of your tent, his breathing laboured. If you had been anyone else, you might have mistaken it for sheer arousal, nothing more. You know better.

He is nervous. He is letting you see it.

You place your hands on his shoulders and he lowers himself, propped on his palms on either side of you. You consider him, warmth and sorrow blooming simultaneously in your chest.

"You'll tell me? If anything I do makes you feel ... "

"Yes, my love. I'll ... yes. Right away."

"Stay still. Keep your eyes on me," is the soft command you give him.

You undo the laces on his shirt, sliding it from him. His skin gleams with otherworldly pallor, and the knowledge of what had been carved into his back filters into your mind. You cannot make him forget, but you can remind him that touch can be tender too.

Such is the way you handle him, as the shirt is pulled away from his torso fully, the ridged planes of his lean abdomen fluttering slightly under your fingers. He is hyper-sensitive to the sensations you bring, a temporary spike in his breathing.

This is nothing like your previous encounter, when he had confidently displayed himself, instructing you on how to please him. You watch the lift of dense, dark lashes, the hesitancy in his glance, the way he raises his head and arches his neck to gift you the same vulnerability always granted to him when you let him feed.

You keep your palms flat against him, grounding him, as you run them over throat, delicately trace collarbones, stroke down over the curve of his pectorals, down, down, until you stop right above the buckle of his belt before repeating the process.

His breathing evens. He leans down to capture your lips, a little more steady and with more of his old flair. He nips lightly down on your chin, playful.

You don't want him to inhabit the persona he'd worn for so long as some kind of defense, and this definitely feels different. As fraught with nerves as he was, he is regaining some of the self he only showed when you were safely ensconced away from the world.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, and he lets out an involuntary groan, low and wanton, a sound that spikes jagged heat all the way down the front of your body.

Before you have time to register his actions, Astarion lowers himself, pressing you into the bedroll. There is no art to the way he rolls his hips against yours, no finesse to the way he clumsily mouths your neck, eager, warm.

"Astar - ahhh - slow down, you - "

"Can't, my sweet - oh yes - I feel - want you so much. I - "

He tugs down your trousers, dragging your underwear away with it. As much as this seems far more organic that anything he's done before, the heated throb of arousal doesn't distract you from the fact that he is rushing things, perhaps in a frantic bid to prove that he can do this.

You clamp your thighs together, temporarily denying him access and he sits back on his haunches, panting. The raw hunger with which he regards you makes you as slick as melting ice. You have both gone so long without sex, something you were more than happy to accept. You know all too well, however, the cost of succumbing to pure lust when there was something far more significant at play.

"I know what you want - "

"Then let me have it. I'm no fragile bloom, my sweet - "

"Astarion."

You stifle a smile as he huffs and folds his arms.

"Fine. I'm listening. But don't delay. I need you."

The ache in his voice almost has your legs falling apart again, but you hold firm.

"Can you take everything off?"

In reply, he stands and unbuckles his belt, but then pauses and shoots you a mischievous look.

You know that look. Your mouth twitches.

"What are you up to?"

"Giving you a show, that's all."

"Oh Gods, is now really the time for - "

"Well, since you're being so stiff, let Hortensius help you along."

"Please, not Hortensius."

"But darling, he's already here. Now, be nice."

He sucks in his cheeks, in the manner of one of the high end fashion models of the Upper City and wags his hips from side to side, lips projecting in an exaggerated pout as the pants slide from his hips. Your smile turns to a helpless quiver of suppressed merriment as he kicks the offending article away and then grasps his rigid member, advancing on you without ever losing the expression.

"My name is Hortensius Dickanthropus and you, my dear, are about to be subject to a most thorough porking."

You lower your voice, soft and breathy.

"Oh my, Hortensius, I don't know how my poor little flower will take all of that."

Astarion drops to a predatory crouch, crawling over to you. His grin is wide, canines toothily on display.

"Ah, my blushing maid, don't be shy! I may have a horse's cock, but I'm going to be as delicate as a pixie."

You cover your breasts in false modesty as he slides down alongside you.

"A pixie? I saw a pixie in my bushes last week. They're so ... naughty. And fast. Are you going to piston me into the middle of next week, Hortensius?"

"With pleasure. I'm going to piston you like the Steel Watch itself is between your legs - "

Your composure gives way and you slap at his shoulder.

"Not the fucking Steel Watch, for God's sake - "

"Why?" His fingers dance over your hips. "Maybe create another little Foundry down here - "

You're now shaking with laughter and Astarion watches you, the cheeky smirk slipping by inches, eyes kindling with an infinite warmth and adoration that only you are party to. You realise, as your mirth fades, that you had been carrying a great deal of tension too, and that he'd effectively dragged it away from you, deconstructing the last barrier; your fear of hurting him.

In spite of your earlier fervour, you clasp his cheeks between your palms and press his forehead to yours, staying like that for a while. He does not object, nose nudging sweetly against yours.

"Astarion, I want to try something."

"Go ahead."

In truth, you'd learned this minor illusion from Gale, whose knowing smile had almost had you running for the hills when you'd first asked him to teach it to you.

Fingers extending upward, you closed your eyes and focused on the Weave, drawing it closer to you, shaping with precision. Astarion exclaimed softly and you dropped your hand, ready to behold your work.

A fall of many-hued petals, delicate as snow, drifted down from the roof of the tent, each disappearing as they settled on the bedroll and your reclining forms. A pleasant scent, earthy and reminiscent of a forest clearing in the springtime, permeated the air. Soft golden motes danced between you, each emitting a delicate luminosity.

Astarion was watching the display with amused delight, allowing you to catch him off guard. Tipping him over onto his back, you took in the sight of him, fully nude, satiny skin and curls dusted in the remnants of illusory wildflowers, indigo, variegated red and yellow, rich royal purple and the dusky blush of dawn.

"You're so lovely. And free."

You banish petals with your caress, all the way down to the perfectly carved valley of his pelvis.

"I want the world to stand still when I look at you because there's no room for anything else in my mind."

He stops you with a finger to the lips, rising so that you're both lying on your sides, facing each other. He wears his composure well, through long habit, but there is something wild and desperately cast in his eyes.

"And I'm free because of you. Don't you forget it."

This time, nothing interrupts the slide of his skin on yours, the crushing, breathless intimacy that knows no bounds. There is no artifice here, no subtle trick or sly gleam of eyes watching you beneath hooded lids.

Astarion keeps your faces close together, watching every contortion of your features, drinking you in and opening himself to you entirely. He raises your leg onto his hip, still facing you as his fingers slip down, down, between your bodies.

You gasp as he strokes over your folds, his mouth coming down on your throat. His fangs sink in, only breaking the surface, right at the moment his fingers breach you. Crying out, you cling to him, drawing answering moans as he rocks against you.

His lips brush yours, un-coordinated, wet against the sides of your mouth. You taste the slight metallic tinge of your own blood, lost in heady ecstasy as the heat of his exhalation mingles with yours, rough and uneven. He nudges you when your head tilts back, keeping your eyes on him.

His fingers are now coated with the dewiness of your arousal, and he drags them up between you again, surprising you with just how wet he has made you in such a short time. You watch, breath hitching, as he slides them over his own hardened flesh, tracing pearly fluid down from the tip, coating himself.

You turn to lie on your back, but firm fingers grasp your hip, holding you in place. He tugs your leg further up on his waist, earning a soft gasp. You're more accessible to him like this, more vulnerable.

"Darling, I can't wait any - "

"Astarion, please."

Your soft plea triggers an almost animalistic movement from him, as he grinds upwards, pushing against your entrance. You're almost sobbing now, clutching at him, begging him. At his mercy, you bite your lip hard when he works himself in, sliding into the tight grasp of your heat.

He is trembling, you realise, ecstasy and agony in equal measure, chasing each other across his face as he pushes deeper, burying himself within you, staying with you. Even with the intensity of what you're both feeling, he keeps you in place, the hand that had stroked you now holding your thigh over him.

He begins a measured pace that quickly devolved to one of instinct, slowing down so that you clench around him, speeding up until your back arches, swallowing your disjointed whispers as he watches you come undone, and in doing so, comes apart himself.

In this golden time, you understand that you have never been more completely aware of another, of the muscle that ripples under alabaster skin, of the rapidly cooling sweat on his chest, of the way his scent winds around you, the way his body moves against and inside yours. He has taken your blood into himself, so many times, consumed you in so many different ways, and yet, this was wholly new.

Astarion isn't teasing you endlessly. He isn't bringing you to the brink, and releasing you, which is his specialty, as you're fully aware. He's throwing himself headlong into the passion of a true union, every thrust bringing you both closer to the dazzling precipice.

He is reckless in his lovemaking, somehow striking that balance between base urgency and shattering tenderness. You can see the building euphoria when your eyes meet his, the knowledge that this moment belongs to both of you, untainted, spun out in indestructible threads that bind you to each other.

You are close. You let him know, through the pale crescents your nails leave on his shoulder and side, through the way your voice rises, the way your hardened nipples push into him as your whole body stiffens and prepares for mind-numbing, white-hot pleasure, the way you take his fingers into your mouth with hedonistic abandon.

He drinks it all in, tracking every movement, every glimmering bead of sweat, every minute crease between your brows. Fighting back years of conditioning, he holds you impossibly closer, your body a shield against the memory of every meaningless, sordid encounter.

Your eyes drag open, tears glistening where they have gathered at the corners, slipping down across the bridge of your nose, bringing the sight of his face to sudden clarity.

You let him see it, all of it; the moment your climax crashes like a wave over every sense, that most secret of faces. You let him see that he is the only one who can bring you to this place, this endless horizon that curves across your vision like a shard of jacinth.

Astarion is now gasping endearments. They fall from his lips in a litany, one declaration melding into another. You hold onto him as your own mind slowly clears, senses thrumming with the aftermath of the pleasure he has brought you.

He is close.

You surrender complete control to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hips lift from the bedroll in fitful abandon, his teeth sinking into your shoulder.

"My ... my sweet, I'm - ah - you're so - don't know what you - "

At any other time, seeing Astarion, with his mastery of seductive words that bordered on legendary, in this barely coherent state, would have been cause for wonder indeed. As with all else, however, you took things as they were, treasured them.

Here, with you, he didn't have to be that. Here, he needed no flowery phrases and practiced gestures. Here, he was yours, in wiry strength and hidden fragility, in biting humour and those rare moments of stark realism, when he did his best to protect you from a world who's cruelty he had experienced all too many times.

When he finally reaches his peak, lips drawn back from teeth, brow furrowed in supreme pleasure, tendons standing out on his neck as a series of guttural sounds escape him, you smooth your hands up and down his back, bringing him slowly back to you.

You press soft kisses across his nose, along his jawline, his body giving one last shudder as your lips ghost over his ear and you nuzzle into his hair. Slowly regaining focus, his gaze fixes on your face, a slow, radiant smile gathering, a stray ray of sunshine burning through overcast skies.

Something bubbles up in his chest, overflows into the almost non-existent space between your bodies. A peal of laughter, so bright, so free of pain, lancing through you like the keen point of an arrow, the barbs lodging somewhere deep in your chest.

You could listen to him laugh like this forever.

He finally releases you, rolling over onto his back, that same giddy smile refusing to diminish. One of his arms extends, drawing you close so that your head now rests on his chest, your shoulders encased in the solid curve of his arm.

"My love, my light, that was - "

His chest heaves again, and his head moves from side to side in cheerful disbelief. You can't help the grin that breaks across your own countenance.

"Careful, Astarion. You sound happier than the first time you drank from me."

"But this is better! This is - "

His enthusiasm cuts off, faster than words escape him. Something chokes him, holds the rest of sentence prisoner until he takes a heavy breath, releases it. The catch in his voice adds strength to your grip on him.

"This is perfect. This is ... everything I want it to be."

You remain silent, not trusting your own voice now. When he speaks again, it is so soft that you almost miss the words.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. Never for this."

Later, as the outside intrudes once again into the sanctity of your tent, when the rustle of the wind in the trees, the crack of new firewood given up to the hungry flames of the campfire and the distant song of nocturnal birds echoes back to you, you place your hand over where his heart should beat.

It had been somewhat disconcerting, the first time you'd felt the lack of that steady rhythm beneath your fingertips. Now, however, you felt something entirely different.

This was no empty void, no echoing palace of yesterday's torment. Astarion had come so much further than that. He was here, beside you, of his own free will. There was no such thing as true emptiness, not in a life as rich as this one, that of a man who had given up so much to walk, just once more, in the sun.

No. This space where vitality should make itself known was threaded through with so many scars, but from that barren landscape, verdant new growth came, tended carefully. You could see how it stole over him, and you, in every shared touch, every wound bandaged, every battle fought side by side, every new delight you found in each other.

It came like a thief, robed in night, and laughed as it took the title of queen, enthroning itself in your hearts. It had taken up the sceptre, usurped your earthly kingdom and banished all notion of loneliness.

Such was the nature of love, and so it would remain, until that final red sunrise came to claim you both.

@tattoo-of-a-bird Finally got the courage to write this one.

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anniflamma · 2 days ago

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Hey Anni,

you have intrigued me on your Daniel/Darius obsession and I would like to know if there’s anything I can read or where I can find art and such to fuel my obsession .

PS: hope you have a wonderful amazing day and you are perfect

Well… When I started making art of them, I PROMISE I was the only one here. But recently, I’ve gotten some fanfics!

We have 2 fics by Sir Carebearalot!

This one is ongoing!

aaaand a ongoing fic that only have 1 chapter out by Bae Synder!

If you like musicals, we have the Daniel Musical by Sight & Sound Theatres! Here’s a playlist! Its really good!

If you want to lose brain cells, then I recommend Daniel and the Lions by Liken the Scriptures. It’s the cheesiest, dumbest thing ever. Darius has a song about how he needs therapy. Mood. The lions have two songs. One where they’re horny, totally wanting to eat Daniel and his "tasty thighs," purring and nya-ing. I hate it so much. I can’t help but imagine Daniel sitting there, uncomfortable af. Then the second lion song is about how they’ve become vegetarians. There’s also a duet between Daniel and Darius, singing about God, but they never actually say it’s God, only referring to "Him." So, we end up with an ironically romantic ballad between two dudes, with a melody that is totally not ripped from You Raise Me Up.

youtube

There’s also a podcast called Bible Bash by Liam Michael Hooper and Don Durham. They have two episodes talking about Daniel, not really about Daniel and Darius, but more focused on the identity of being a eunuch and how it fits under the LGBTQ+ umbrella. It’s a pretty cool podcast! You can also scroll though my Daniel/Darius tag. Its filled with art and post of me babbling about head canons, reblog other ppl's fanarts and asks!

#asks #daniel/darius #daniel and darius #daniel musical #daniel and the lions musical #book of daniel #bible fandom #ao3 fanfic recs

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paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles · 2 days ago

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Consequence Last night I was met with major consequences of my actions.

A buddy of mine asked me to come over and help him set up his house, as he just moved. I said yes (as any friend should) and we worked for a few hours straight.

His wife is quite the cook. She’s made us countless lovely meals that are by all accounts quite lavish: plenty of fresh vegetables and herbs, finely cut and marinated meats, perfectly prepared noodles or rice or soup, and even at times delectably indulgent desserts. They are a modest family but often there is enough to eat seconds or thirds if one desired, and she has often welcomed or encouraged it, as that is how she was raised.

Last night she made a huge pot of noodles and sausage and cut vegetables, even with fresh spices and homemade sausage. Truly some of her best yet. I helped myself to 4 portions or so…there was tons and only 3 of us, and no one was in the kitchen when I got mine.

I sat down at the table and got to work. It took deliberate effort by the end of my absolutely piled plate to finish it all. My poor gut was so filled up I had gotten to a point where I was having to hide my heavy breathing. Luckily both my friend and his wife were preoccupied with a phone call and the tv, so I could gorge with little fear of being noticed. I finally finished it all. I took a deep breathe and just kinda zoned out in a blissful, food induced daze. I was quickly snapped back to reality by her. She sort of just appeared out of nowhere to get my plate.

She asked if I liked it. I said it was great. She asked if I wanted more. I was looking down to grab my plate and hand it to her. I struggled to find a nice way to say I was so full I couldn’t have anymore, and then I looked up. She was almost…frowning? Maybe pouting? I couldn’t bear the thought of turning her down then, she looked so distraught…so I said sure.

She practically jumped forward to take my plate, and she was beaming. A big smile flashed on her face and she expressed how thrilled she was to get me some more and that I liked it so much.

I could hardly imagine eating any more. My stomach was already packed full. I absolutely dreaded her return. In just a minute or two she came back with my plate, and dear goodness it was stacked. She had chosen the choicest slices of meat and more than I got the first time as I was being modest with something such high quality. She had given me the nicest looking vegetables, and plenty of the fresh herbs. She even made sure my noodles had plenty of sauce. I was shocked. It was easily rivaling the portion I got earlier, but she chose so many delightful pieces of everything. With an excited, grateful word she set my plate in front of me. She was smiling ear to ear. I had no choice now.

I said thank you and accepted my fate. Every forkful was laborious. Every mouthful tougher to swallow than the last. My mouth was overwhelmed with wonderful textures, flavors, and shapes. Truly this was the best plate you could’ve gotten. Yet I could barely stomach it. I ate so much of my own accord earlier that I ruined this finely prepared second portion. What should have been a happily welcomed indulgence was now practically a punishment. Slowly but determinedly I stuffed it all down. The chewing was just getting to hard. Not because it was tough or poorly done, but because I had eaten so much that my jaw became fatigued.

Finally it was all inside me. I finally ate it all. Nothing remained on my plate, and I could barely imagine getting up. I sat there at the table, focusing on my positively swollen gut. I felt it strain my shirt differently, and my body was starting to focus all its reserve energy on processing all this food.

I grew more tired then I had been. Food was supposed to be rejuvenating after a break from work, but I had now eaten so much I was starting to fight off sleep.

Eventually I got up, and lugged my heavy belly back to work. I was so full I had to focus on breathing normally and annunciating my words. My belly was this hefty, sagging sack of lard on the bottom(like usual) but the top was jammed full of simply too much food, and it had stretched and distended so far that my 5XLT shirt was starting to look a little tight in the middle.

My choices finally caught up to me. My unchecked gluttony was finally taking its toll. I was being inadvertently punished for pigging out so intensely.

honestly, I was hoping she would ask me if I wanted 3rds.

#mewrite #gaining weight on purpose #feeding kink #fatty getting fatter #ssbhm belly #ssbhm feedee #getting fat on purpose

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woozinhos · 3 days ago

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Newlywed hoshi?? Breeding after seeing a family making him want to have his own family lol, hoshi will be a really good husband in the future i can literally see it in my eyes, my man is a family man, i swear on all my money (2 dollars)

Hoshi and you were newlyweds, still basking in the joy and excitement of your new life together. It was a warm summer day, and the two of you had decided to go for a walk in the park. As you strolled hand in hand, enjoying the beautiful scenery, you spotted a family nearby. The parents were playing with their young children, laughing and smiling as they chased each other around.

Hoshi's eyes followed the family, a wistful expression on his face. He had always wanted a family of his own, and seeing the parents with their children made him yearn for that even more. He glanced over at you, his eyes softening as he took in your beauty. The desire to start a family with you burned even brighter within him. Hoshi gently tugged on your hand, pulling you to a stop. He looked at you with a mix of longing and vulnerability in his eyes.

"Babe," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you ever think about having kids?" He didn't want to pressure you, but he needed to know where you stood on the issue. The thought of building a family with you filled him with an overwhelming sense of joy and fulfillment. You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You had thought about having children before, and the idea of starting a family with Hoshi filled you with excitement and happiness.

"I do," you replied, squeezing his hand gently. "I've always wanted to be a mother, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather do it with than you." Hoshi's face lit up with a smile at your words, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest.

"I love you so much," he whispered, burying his face in your hair. "And the thought of having children with you... it makes me the happiest man in the world." Hoshi's hands slid down to rest on your hips, his fingers tracing small circles against your skin. The idea of starting a family with you had ignited a fire within him, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to see you carrying his child.

"Do you know how much I want to see you pregnant with my baby?" he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. "To watch your belly grow as our child grows inside you." You shivered at his words, a wave of desire washing over you. The thought of carrying Hoshi's child, of having a physical reminder of your love for each other, was incredibly arousing.

You tilted your head back to look up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration. "I want that too," you whispered. "I want to have your babies, Hoshi. I want to build a family with you." Hoshi's eyes darkened with lust as he looked down at you, his grip on your hips tightening. The possessiveness in his gaze sent a thrill down your spine, and you could feel the tension between you building.

"Then let's get started," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Let's make those babies, sweetheart."

Hoshi didn't waste any time. He scooped you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style back to your house. His lips found yours in a heated kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he walked. He kicked the door shut behind him and carried you straight to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed with a hungry look in his eyes.

"I need you," he said, his voice rough with desire. "I need to breed you, fill you up with my seed and make you mine." Hoshi wasted no time in stripping you of your clothes, his hands roaming over your body as he exposed your skin. His eyes were dark with desire, his touch possessive and demanding.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck and over your collarbone. "And you're going to be even more beautiful when you're pregnant with my baby." He reached down and spread your legs, his fingers tracing the slick heat between them. "You're already so ready for me, aren't you?" he growled.

Hoshi's smile was both sweet and wicked as he looked down at you, his eyes burning with a mixture of love and lust. "I'm going to make love to you all night," he said, his voice low and seductive. "I'm going to take my time and worship every inch of your body." He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands roamed over your curves. His touch was both gentle and demanding, igniting a fire deep within you.

"I'm going to make sure you're completely mine," he whispered against your lips. "I'm going to fill you up with my love and my seed, and there won't be a single doubt in your mind about who you belong to." Hoshi's hands roamed over your body, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. He kissed and nipped at your skin, his lips and tongue teasing you mercilessly.

"You're so sensitive," he murmured, his fingers dancing over your sensitive spots. "I love how responsive you are to my touch." He continued to tease you, his hands and mouth working in tandem to drive you wild with desire. Every touch, every kiss, every word was designed to bring you closer to the edge.

"I can't wait to see you writhing beneath me," he growled. "Can't wait to watch you come undone as I fill you with my seed." Hoshi chuckled darkly at your reaction, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You like that, don't you?" he teased, repeating the motion. "Feeling my hard cock against your slick pussy?"

He rubbed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're practically dripping for me, baby." Hoshi continued to tease you, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit and watching you squirm beneath him.

"You're so eager for me," he said, his voice low and seductive. "You want me inside you, don't you? You want me to fill you up and claim you as mine." He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as he pushed you further into the bed. "Beg for it," he whispered against your lips. "Beg for my cock."

You moaned into the kiss, your body trembling with need. "Please, Hoshi," you begged, your voice shaking with desire. "Please give me your cock. I need it, I need you."

Hoshi smirked, clearly enjoying your desperation. "Good girl," he said, his hand wrapping around his length. "You know just what to say to get what you want." He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing your entrance once more. "Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" he asked, his eyes burning with desire.

You nodded frantically, your eyes locked on his. "Yes, please," you whimpered, your hips bucking up against him. "I'm so ready for you." Hoshi grinned and pushed forward, sinking his cock deep inside you with one smooth thrust. You both groaned in unison as he filled you, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck," he groaned, his eyes closing in bliss. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and perfect around me." Hoshi's thrusts were deep and powerful, each one aimed at hitting that spot deep inside you that made you see stars. He was on a mission to get you pregnant, and he was determined to make it happen.

"I'm going to fill you up with my seed," he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "I'm going to pump you full of my babies until your belly is swollen with them."

He leaned down and nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to be such a good mummy," he whispered. "Carrying my babies and making our family complete." You clung to Hoshi, your nails digging into his back as he continued to thrust into you. The feeling of him claiming you, filling you with his seed, was overwhelming.

"Please," you moaned, your voice desperate. "Please, Hoshi. I need to feel you come inside me. I need to feel your cum fill me up."

Hoshi growled in response, his pace quickening as he chased his own release. "I'm going to give it to you, sweetheart," he panted. "I'm going to give you everything you need. You're going to be mine forever, and I'm going to make sure you carry my children." Hoshi's thrusts became more erratic as he neared his climax, his grip on you tightening as he held you close.

"I'm close," he grunted, his forehead pressed against yours. "I'm going to come, baby. I'm going to fill you up with my seed and give you a baby."

He thrust into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as he came with a shout. You felt his hot release flood your core, filling you up with his essence. Hoshi collapsed on top of you, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He buried his face in your neck, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. Hoshi's body may have been tired, but his desire for you was insatiable. Even as he tried to catch his breath, he couldn't help but thrust into you again, chasing the feeling of your tight heat around his sensitive cock.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips moving slowly but deeply. "I can't get enough of you. I need more, I need to fill you up again and again until you're dripping with my cum." The sound of the cum squelching as Hoshi moved inside you was like music to his ears. It was a primal, possessive sound that only served to fuel his desire even further.

"You're so wet," he growled, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. "So wet and full of my cum. You're mine, baby. All mine." Hoshi's pace quickened again, his thrusts becoming more urgent and desperate. He was completely consumed by his desire for you, his body driven by a primal need to claim you and make you his own.

"I want to breed you," he panted, his voice rough with need. "I want to fill you up so many times that you're overflowing with my cum. I want you to be swollen with my babies, a constant reminder of who you belong to." You moaned at his words, your body trembling with pleasure and need. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, already beginning to harden again despite his previous release.

"You want that, don't you?" he growled, his eyes dark with desire. "You want me to fill you up until you can't take anymore. You want me to make you mine, forever." Hoshi continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming more erratic as he neared his second climax. He was completely lost in the moment, his mind consumed by thoughts of filling you up and claiming you as his own.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice rough. "Say that you want me to breed you. Say that you want to carry my babies and be my perfect little breeding bitch." You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body trembling with the need for release. But you knew that Hoshi wouldn't let you come until you gave him what he wanted.

"Please," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "Please, breed me. Fill me up with your babies, I want to carry them and be yours forever." Hoshi's eyes darkened with lust as he heard your words. He knew that he was close, and he wanted to come inside you once more, filling you up with his seed and claiming you as his.

"That's right," he growled, his hips moving faster and harder. "You're mine. My perfect little breeding bitch, and I'm going to make sure you get pregnant with my child." Hoshi's grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you one final time, burying himself deep inside you as he came with a guttural groan. You felt his hot release fill you once again, adding to the mess of cum already inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his body shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He panted heavily, his breath hot against your skin as he tried to catch his breath.

"Fuck," he groaned, his forehead resting against yours. "You're so perfect, baby. So perfect for me." Hoshi smiled down at you, his expression softening as he came down from his intense moment of desire. He nuzzled against your neck, pressing gentle kisses to your skin.

"You did so well," he murmured, his voice filled with affection. "You're always so good for me, taking me so well and letting me fill you up." Hoshi's hand moved down to your stomach, rubbing gentle circles over the soft flesh. He smiled as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of love and desire.

"This one will stick," he said confidently. "I can feel it. You're going to be carrying my baby soon, and I can't wait to see your belly swell with my child."

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somnus-lucis-caelum · 2 days ago

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He would have to learn more about the Cetran heritage, especially now. Sure, he had gotten his fair share of education and lessons on neighbouring kingdoms and their customs. But it would be entirely different now… if all these talks went through, then he would have a wife of Cetran blood. It was the bare minimum respect to know her culture by heart then. And with how Aerith was… it did not seem like work now anymore.

She was kind. She was strong. She was smart. She had wit. She was undeniably beautiful. And… she seemed to like what he could do.

Watching her interact with his magic, how she commented on it and complimented him… it stroked his ego, of course. But it also made something in his chest feel… warmer. As if a vessel was filled with that warm milk and honey she seemed to favour so much.

He was not powerful. And neither was he popular. One day she would notice. But at the moment, she seemed to think he was both. And the way she looked at him…

Somnus turned to her fully. The sword in his hand vanishing alongside all the circling weapons so only a blue shimmering hue was remaining in the air around them, swirling like the tendrils of her Lifestream.

Aerith asked a question that… he was not prepared to answer. Not fully. There were so many things happening at once in the past two days. Less than that, if he was being honest.

As royals, of course an arranged marriage had been at the horizon. But Somnus had thought he would have more time. And maybe a little luck like her parents had. That was rare, though. Marriage was political in their standings. And while there surely were a lot of loveless and barely tolerable marriages among the rulers of this world… maybe, just maybe they both could have had it worse.

So far she had given him no reason to dread a future with her. Not at all… quite the opposite.

The little amused noise coming from him was a gentle one. Softer than his usual demeanour, mustering her with a tilted head and a smile playing around one corner of his mouth.

“I would.”

It was that simple, wasn’t it?

Could he imagine them? Standing there, in the circle of many others. With a priest at their side. They would both wear finer clothes than even last evening’s attire. But quite simple in their own way. Pure whites and the colors of their lands. Surely Aerith would weave flowers into her hair and wear golden bracelets. He would have a wreath of his own, made from the olive twigs of Lucis’ gardens.

He could imagine taking her hands and saying yes.

But that fantasy seemed so unreal still. And so far away. A little too hopefully maybe. And a little too dreamy. This was an arranged marriage, right? So he should handle it with the demanded respect and care. The futures of two lands depended on that.

“… listen, Aerith. I know you hoped for something different. You told me, that you hoped you could marry out of love like your mother did. The talks that now happen without us present, the decisions that were made yesterday did not happen like you wished. Even before that, you came here to marry a stranger man. Now it is not my brother, but me. I hope that is not too much of a disappointment. And I do not know what the future brings… maybe I can not offer you that marriage proposal coming from a secret lover after months of knowing and loving each other. But I will do my best to ensure you have a good life. And I hope one filled with happiness. That I can swear.”

Aerith visibly perked up at his question. Few ever made the connection, so her nod was a rather excited one. "Something like that! I mean..." she gestured to him. "It comes down to your beliefs. What came first, your God, the crystal, or were they completely separate and became entwined with one another?"

She then swept her hand to rest on her own chest. "The Cetra believe that the Lifestream came first. That we draw our power from it. Yet we also believe that Minerva is the Goddess of the Lifestream. She is the voice of our Planet, and its protector. There is a lot of debate among our scholars about when the Goddess appeared, but it is widely accepted that she became one with the Lifestream when a star fell from the sky. It was a tale that always fascinated me, I must admit."

Her mother never grew tired of telling her the story, perhaps because she knew her daughter would one day outgrow asking for the tale.

It took more will power than she would care to admit for her to remain as she was. There was a small pull, where Aerith wished to step forward to close the distance.

That need for space became abundantly clear when Somnus summoned a greatsword from thin air. She gasped a sharp breath at the sight — that was the magic! The one that had danced along her arm. It felt cool, because it was... crystal shards. Fine, blue little specks.

Aerith couldn't even give voice to a tease. She could have pointed out 'that's not a shield you're holding', and good thing she kept that silent. Unable to keep her hand to herself, she immediately reached out, curious about the shift of magic in front of herself — a shield, existing faintly, pulled from the crystal?

His comment drew her attention to him again, if briefly. "Whoa!" she reacted, her mouth dropped open. A laugh bubbled up as she half-circled him, admiring the spectacle that was his whole armoury on display.

"This is amazing! Are you sure you aren't a god?!" she practically crowed, testing her luck as she reached for the shield. It altered its gentle path, and she was allowed to 'hold' it long enough to witness the pulse of more detail. Letting it go again she watched it easily drift back onto its path circling around Somnus.

Like a child chasing a wave, she challenged the circle by stepping through when lesser-sharp weapons were in front of her, and they parted harmlessly, no sharp edges ever coming close to touching so much as a hair on her.

"When we're standing at an altar, and some ancient priest asks whether you will marry me — would you consider saying yes?" she smiled to him a little hopelessly. Honestly. He was the hidden gem of the Lucis kingdom.

#holyguardian #AU | Star Crossed

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callmemonster68 · 1 day ago

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JUNGWON - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

Y/N’s life changes when she takes a job at a secluded mansion, organizing the library of seven mysterious vampires. With Jungwon, the hottest moments unfold as she faces danger, passion, and a rival clan under the blood moonlight.

Pairing: Jungwon X FemReader

Genre: Obscenity / Dark Fantasy

Note 1: This story will have eight versions, with only the smut section varying. One will involve the group, while the other seven will focus on individual characters.

Warning: graphic description of gore ( bloond/injuries ) explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands, group sex,double penetration, oral sex, anal sex, masturbation

Note 2: I'm recently starting to write, and English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes and hope to improve my writing. Feedback is always welcome! Text not revised!!!

Y/N never imagined her ordinary life in a quiet town would be transformed by fate. It all began when she accepted a job at an old mansion deep in the forest, tasked with caring for the personal library of its new residents. The mansion was home to seven mysterious men, each exuding a dark charm and harboring deep secrets.

Jake, the leader, radiated authority and charisma. Jay, enigmatic and seductive, sparked Y/N’s curiosity with his intense gazes. Jungwon, youthful in appearance but with wisdom spanning ages, had a kindness that contrasted with his true nature. Sunoo’s radiant smile masked a darker side, while Niki, the most playful, teased her with jokes and piercing looks. Sunghoon was cold and reserved, his silent intensity impossible to ignore. Lastly, Heeseung, a mix of sweetness and danger, seemed to be the bridge that united them all.

Over time, Y/N noticed they weren’t merely attractive and mysterious. There was something supernatural about them: the way they always seemed to know what she was thinking, their inhuman speed, and their aversion to sunlight.

When the truth was revealed—that they were vampires hiding from humanity—Y/N should have run. But the connection between her and the seven was irresistible. Each of them seemed to fill a void within her, and their attraction to her was equally overwhelming.

Life in the mansion grew more intimate as they protected and courted her, sharing moments that transcended the physical, diving into deep emotional bonds. Amid their passion, they faced external threats. Rival vampire clans sought Y/N, believing her blood possessed unique properties capable of empowering weaker vampires.

As the bond between the seven and Y/N deepened, the mansion became not just a home but a refuge against outside dangers. They would face threats, battles, and their own conflicted emotions to protect what they had built together.

═══════════════════════════════════════

Jungwon was the most cautious when approaching Y/N. He wanted to ensure she felt comfortable with the idea of being with someone like him—someone who carried centuries of history and a darker side. Their first time happened on a quiet night in the mansion's garden. They talked for hours under the stars, and Jungwon confessed he was in love with her. When Y/N took the initiative and kissed him, he responded with tenderness and restrained passion, as if wanting to make that moment last forever. Their first time was filled with gentleness, marked by soft touches and an emotional connection that brought them even closer.

Jungwon slid his fingers over her hand, observing her with a calm intensity that seemed to hold entire universes. Jungwon: "You make me feel human again, Y/N," he whispered, his voice laden with emotion. "After so long in the darkness... you are my light."She smiled, her eyes shining under the moonlight. Y/N: "And you make me feel safe, Jungwon. With you, I can be myself."He leaned in slowly, capturing her lips in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, filled with restrained desire. When he pulled away, his eyes locked on hers, warmth evident in his expression. Jungwon: "You have no idea how long I've waited for this... to touch you, to kiss you. I was afraid of scaring you, but now I can’t hold back anymore."Y/N placed her hand on his face, stroking it tenderly. Y/N: "I was never afraid of you, Jungwon. I just want you to show me everything you feel."Her words seemed to shatter the last remnants of his restraint. He pulled her closer, his arms encircling her securely as his lips trailed kisses down her neck. Jungwon: "You are so perfect, Y/N," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and heavy with desire. "Every part of you fascinates me... and tonight, I want to make you feel as special as you are to me."

His touches were gentle but purposeful, every movement showing how much he adored her. He laid her down on the soft grass of the garden, his eyes shining like stars as he gazed at her. Jungwon: "I will never hurt you. I want you to know that," he said, holding her hand. "But I also want you to know how much you make me lose control."When she pulled him closer, Jungwon smiled softly, though there was a growing passion in his gaze. Jungwon: "I will worship you tonight, Y/N. Every moment, every breath of yours will be mine."

And he kept that promise. Every kiss, every touch was filled with care and devotion, making it clear that being with her was more than desire—it was pure, absolute love. From that moment on, every touch, every kiss reflected the devotion he felt. There was no rush, just a genuine desire to fully share the moment.

Jungwon positioned himself over Y/N, their bodies pressed together as they kissed fervently, their hands exploring each other, whispers spilling from both of their lips. Jungwon's hands found the hem of Y/N's dress; he was eager to see her bare, but he wouldn't proceed without her consent. Jungwon: "May I?" he asked. Y/N: "You have my full permission. Do whatever you want with me," she replied with a sweet smile. Jungwon nodded, smiling back, then removed her dress, leaving her only in her panties, already soaked with anticipation. Motivated even more by this, he quickly discarded his own clothes. He placed a tender kiss on her lips before trailing kisses down to her clothed core, sending shivers through Y/N. Grasping the waistband of her panties with both hands, he looked into her eyes for permission before removing them.

Positioning his hardened member at her entrance, he leaned in for another kiss, this one even softer, filled with emotion. Slowly, he entered her, her walls gripping him tightly, eliciting a groan from him during the kiss. Once he was fully inside, he intertwined their hands and began to move—slowly and deeply—his eyes never leaving hers, constant praises spilling from his lips.

As Y/N neared her climax, she wrapped her legs around him, stopping his movements. Y/N: "Please, let me worship you too."With that, Y/N gently flipped him over, changing their position. Now that Y/N was on top, she set the rhythm, her movements fast and intense from the start, drawing the most beautiful expressions and sounds from Jungwon. Y/N: "You’re so beautiful. I can’t stop admiring you."Jungwon, too lost in pleasure to speak, pulled her into a messy kiss, promises and praises spilling from their lips as Y/N rode him mercilessly. Y/N reached her climax first but didn’t slow her movements. Y/N: "Come for me, Jungwon."Jungwon: "I’ll fill you, mark you as mine."

With that, Jungwon released inside her, a breathy moan escaping his lips. Still connected, Y/N rested her head on his chest. As the night melted into the early hours of the morning, Jungwon wrapped her in his arms, murmuring sweet words as the moon continued to illuminate the garden. Jungwon: "Thank you for trusting me," he whispered, kissing her forehead. Y/N smiled, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heart. Y/N: "Always, Jungwon. Always."

═══════════════════════════════════════

The nights at the mansion were growing darker. The rival clan hadn’t given up on capturing Y/N, believing her blood to be unique—something that could grant unimaginable power to vampires. Despite all the protection offered by Jake, Jay, Jungwon, Sunoo, Niki, Sunghoon, and Heeseung, an ambush caught them by surprise.

Y/N was gravely wounded during the attack, blood slowly dripping as she collapsed into Jake’s arms. Her eyes filled with tears, but she managed to murmur:

Y/N: "I don’t want to die..."

The mansion fell silent as the seven vampires gathered around her, their faces etched with despair. They knew there was only one way to save her—to turn her into one of them. But it wasn’t a simple process. It wasn’t just about drinking their blood; it was crossing a barrier that would bind their souls forever.

Jake was the first to speak, his voice firm but laden with pain:

Jake: "If we do this, there’s no turning back. You’ll become like us, and the world will never be the same for you."

Fighting against the pain and the darkness threatening to consume her, Y/N looked at each of them.

Y/N: "I trust you. I want to stay with you... forever."

Jay was the first to kneel beside her, his intense gaze locking onto hers. He made a small cut on his wrist, letting the blood drip onto Y/N’s lips. One by one, the others followed the same ritual, each drop of blood becoming part of her.

When it was Heeseung’s turn, the last of them, he hesitated briefly, holding Y/N’s face in his hands.

Heeseung: "This will hurt, but I promise I’ll stay by your side the whole time."

He leaned in to lightly bite her neck, sealing the ritual. The pain was followed by a wave of heat spreading through Y/N’s body, accompanied by a sense of rebirth.

The transformation was quick but intense. Y/N screamed, her body arching as if being ripped from her humanity. Her eyes flew open, glowing a deep red before returning to their natural color. She gasped, feeling every sense heightened: the scent of the mansion’s old wood, the sound of the wind outside, and most of all, the seven hearts around her beating in unison.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

The transformation brought more than power; it brought connection. She could feel their thoughts, emotions, and the depth of love each felt for her. But with that came an intense thirst—a hunger no mortal food could satisfy.

Jake helped her stand, holding her hand firmly.

Jake: "You’re one of us now. Strong, immortal... but it comes at a price. Your thirst will be relentless, and the world will see you as a monster."

Y/N looked at him and the others, her determination growing.

Y/N: "I accept the price. Because with you, I fear nothing."

As the full moon illuminated the mansion, the seven vampires surrounded her, each vowing to protect and guide her in this new existence. They knew the rival clan was still a threat, but now, with Y/N as one of them, their group was complete and more powerful than ever.

Her first hunt that night, guided by Sunoo and Niki, ended with a piercing scream echoing through the forest. The transformation was complete, but something about her blood seemed different. Jungwon, observing her from afar, realized she wasn’t an ordinary vampire. Something in her blood made her a unique predator, and he knew this was just the beginning of something far greater.

What destiny lay ahead now that Y/N had crossed into immortality? No one knew for sure, but the mystery lingered like mist under the moonlight.

Their story, far from over, had only just begun.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

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