This is an analysis of the ‘drunk’ scene. It’s long, so press read more if willing. This won’t include every single scene, especially ones that repeat. Just notable things. Some of the images are hard to see, as they flashed by in short moment, with all the drugged effects, making them hard to decern without motion. I provide a bit of context.
“I wanted to stay. I wanted to fight for us, but you wouldn’t let me. You just left and took the easy way out.”
Pairing: Shawn Mendes x female character Rating: Explicit Words: 2682
A/N: I can’t thank @brittanyzelazno enough for reading this over a million times (she’s read it more times than I have) and keeping my spirits up about this. Love you a lot a lot.
He always puts his heart in the words he writes. He feels them vibrate against his fingertips as the graphite leaves lines and squiggles in his notebook. He wants them to be perfect and has a tendency to chew on the hard end of his pencil when he just can’t get that one word in a line right. Tonight, his mouth tastes of cedar wood and coffee, keeping him up alone on the hardwood floor of his studio. Sometimes, the words just won’t come no matter what he does, and Shawn thinks that he should have accepted that fact by now, but his stubborn head won’t let him give up until he can vocalise the sensations he feels inside his body.
The song is about a girl who used to be his. It’s about the sharp pain in his chest that he felt when she had told him. When he had watched her tears run down her face as she apologised repeatedly. Later on, when she ended it, she had put on a cold façade, but he knew it was killing her inside just as much as it did him when he let her go. He was willing to fight, willing to forgive, but she wasn’t.
Even the memory of those emotions hurt and his heavy head feels like it’s going to explode, so he allows himself a break and walks leisurely to the kitchen and takes a shot of vodka, hoping it’ll help. One shot turns into two, and two into three, and so it goes until he decides that he needs to tell her the words he’s got on his mind before he can write more. Shawn has just about sobered up when he finds himself outside her door at two o’clock. She takes a long time to open, and looks utterly shocked when she sees the figure in front of her.
“Don’t do this,” she pleads, shaking her head slowly. She looks defeated as she rubs at her sleepy face.
“Do what? Love you? I can’t stop doing that.” He stills for a second, holding onto the doorframe. “You hurt me so much.” He laughs, and he realises just how sad it sounds when guilt covers her face. “But I still miss you. Even when I think of how you let him touch you, and how he probably fucked you on that couch, where we kissed for the first time.” He peers over her shoulder, pointing at a long sofa on the inside.
“You’re drunk,” she accuses with an upset voice, detecting the alcohol on his breath.
“No, but I was before I came here,” he clarifies before continuing with the words he wants her to know. “I cared for you despite what you did. I still do.” The words hurt to speak, but they are true and Shawn is never more honest than when he’s had a little to drink. It’s embarrassing, really, that he spills his guts after a few beers or a couple of shots. “Why can’t you just let me go?” He groans and she puts her hand over his mouth, muffling his next words so that they are incoherent.
“You’re loud, you smell, and I have neighbours. Get in,” she says sternly, pulling at his arm.
He complies, following her inside and when she turns away to lock the door, he kicks off his shoes, shrugs off his jacket and starts to pull off his shirt.
She gasps when she finds him bare-chested in front of her. “What are you doing?!” She whispers the words, but sounds enraged nonetheless.
“You said I smelled so I’m taking a shower.” Shawn walks right past her to the bathroom, leaving his shirt on her floor. The moment he enters, his eyes fall upon a necklace he had given her half a year ago, hanging on a jewellery tree. It looks dusty, like it hasn’t been picked up in forever. The sight and the memory feels like a punch to the gut and he falls back against the wall, hitting his head on the cold tiles.
“Shawn,” she whispers next to him.
He doesn’t want to look at her. He can’t because he knows that when he does the tears that have collected in his eyes will fall, and he doesn’t want to cry. With his eyes aimed at the floor, he pushes past her to the edge of the tub and steps in, turning on the shower. The cold water splashes against his face and he shivers as goosebumps appear on his arms and neck, but he remains stationary under the pouring water with his eyes closed. Hands find his shoulders and shake him, and he finally looks at her. She’s standing in front of him in the shower, looking distraught as water bounces off his body and hits her dry clothes.
“How could you?” Shawn says in a low voice, and wonders if he can be heard over the sound of the downpour when she doesn’t respond.
“I’m sorry,” she says eventually. “I never meant to hurt you. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I truly am sorry.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“Because I knew you deserved better.”
Her words rile him up because he’s tired of her making decisions for him and disregarding how he actually feels. “You don’t!” he yells. The tears burst out without warning and melt in with the water that’s turning warmer by the second. He backs up against the wall to avoid the stream and pushes his hair back over his head. She follows him, stepping closer so that she is where the water is spraying. “You don’t know how I feel, and you don’t know what I want. I wanted to stay. I wanted to fight for us, but you wouldn’t let me. You just left and took the easy way out.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. She is a heartbreaking picture with her sad eyes, hair matted down against her head, and her t-shirt almost as soaked as his pants. But she’s also his heartbreaking picture in a part of his mind that is still in denial.
Before he sees it coming and without thinking, Shawn holds her against the wall and crashes his mouth onto hers. Hesitant lips move against his slowly, but then he’s being pushed back by his shoulders, away from her. She watches him with longing eyes but her straight arms keep him at a distance until she changes her mind and pulls him into a kiss, pushing him towards the wall. Her hands wrap around the back of his neck and his immediately move to their familiar place at her soft hips.
Fingers press into skin, leaving thick, red lines under the water. Hands pull at hair, limbs, and clothes, and Shawn is shortly naked against her barely dressed body. His muscle memory still knows how to touch her, how to kiss her to make her feel good. Somewhere between the rough kisses and the slow nips at the wet skin of her neck he starts to think, and then he stills. He buries his face in her shoulder and breathes erratically against her neck, just holding her as his eyes fill up with tears again. He already knows that there’s no return for them, but there’s a sliver of hope somewhere in him and that’s what keeps him standing there, next to her as water cascades over them.
She turns a knob, lowering the water pressure then slides her hands down his back. He shivers from the touch and is reminded that he’s in the nude and his crotch is pressed against her hip. He backs up to look at her; the cautious look on her face, the wet hair against her head, the swell of her lips from his teeth. What he wants is right in front of him and he knows he can’t have it, but he gives in to that sliver of hope that prompts him to close in on her, and he kisses her again. His lips move to her ear and he kisses the lobe and gently tugs at it with his teeth, making her soften against him.
“One last time. Please,” he begs.
“We…” she begins to speak, but moans when Shawn attaches his lips to her neck, just below her ear and sucks. “We shouldn’t.”
Shawn pulls back at her words, knowing that it’d be wrong if he continued. He takes a step back and feels a little uncomfortable standing there naked with a semi as she pierces him with her eyes. But she moves closer and rests her firm palm on his chest, right where his heart is. Her fingers curl and her nails press against his pec, making his length twitch and he briefly has a mortifying flashback of swimming class CPR lessons when he was paired up with Wendy Steinbeck. She was clad in a tiny bikini and he had had no control of himself whatsoever.
She moves closer slowly until her slippery skin is against his again and his growing length is in between their bodies, the proximity making him harder. Their lips clash together, hands roam bodies, and fingers dig into flesh. Shawn takes a hold of the back of her thigh and picks her up, pressing her up against the tiles. Her fingers wrap around the slide bar attached to the wall quickly and she wraps her thighs around him, pulling him close.
The tip of his erection rubs up against her opening with a light pressure and he groans quietly at the simple relief, and he continues with slow motions of his hips and gets harder with every stroke of her swollen folds. She leaves his neck with purple blotches and he revels in knowing that she wants him marked.
“Let me down,” she says after a while.
She pulls him in by the neck and tugs at damp curls at the back of his head. Shawn falls into her body and catches himself with his palm against the wall, but his face still crashes into hers so that their noses collide.
“Ow!” The pair yelp in unison, then start to laugh as their eyes connect. They laugh in amusement until their laughs turns into melancholic chuckles and Shawn finds himself with his eyes closed and lips just close enough to hers for her hot breath to fan over them.
Her fingernails trace the lines on his stomach and then her hand is wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly with a firm grip. She circles her thumb around his tip where the precome has leaked but is washed away by the water, and Shawn moans at the feeling. He feels dizzy from the pleasure and steadies himself against her body, resting his face in her flushed neck. A low sound slips past her lips when Shawn opens his mouth and starts to suck on the skin on her neck, making him smile at the familiarity of her sounds. He brings a hand down to her sex, pushes her underwear aside and teases her entrance with a finger. His finger sinks into her and he draws it back slowly, sighing when she moans in bliss.
The pace of her hand around his erection quickens and he breathes harshly against her skin. Shawn wraps his fingers around her wrist, stopping her movements. She lets go of his length and it bounces back against him.
“Turn around,” he mumbles.
She turns to face the wall and he places kisses on her shoulder, removing her hair so that her neck is exposed for him to bite at. There are spots of colours on her shoulder and neck when he is done, marks apparent on her skin just like on his. Shawn pulls her hips back against him so that his length is pressed up against her soft bum. She steadies himself with a palm against the wall and reaches back to touch his erection, bringing the head to her entrance. He rubs against her slowly, then pushes into her until he bottoms out as his palm moves down her spine. Her buttocks press back against his crotch and he starts to move inside her leisurely. His lips find her shoulder again and his fingers unclasp her bra, releasing her breasts from their confines. He reaches out to her front to take a hold of her breast, stroking her nipples and tugging at them gently and she sighs in response.
They move together in sync as his mouth ravages her shoulders and the top of her back. She turns her head around for sloppy kisses and he slows his movements to languid thrusts as his tongue finds hers and the two desperately claim each other’s mouths. Their bodies move together faster again, her breathing quickens and it’s not long before she comes around him with a hushed moan. Shawn feels himself get closer and he pulls out just in time, coming onto her back as his muscles tighten and his knees shake.
“Sorry for… yeah,” he mumbles.
“It’s fine,” she responds, turning as the water washes away any sign of their actions.
The atmosphere is thick once they get out of her bathroom, both of them wrapped in towels. He follows her to her bedroom and she digs up an old jumper of his at the back of her closet and throws a pair of sweatpants to him that he thinks used to belong to him. They exchange awkward smiles and put on clothes with their backs turned to each other, saying no words. Then they face one another, only to observe, which they haven’t properly done for a long time, but words remain unspoken.
Eventually, Shawn forces himself to say something, “The sun’s up.” He looks past her at the light peeking through the blinds.
She turns to look at her window, then smiles at him. “It is.”
Then silence overcomes them again, and they’re standing six feet apart. The distance feels like torture to Shawn, and he wants to so badly kiss her again, and hold her, and make her his again. But he knows that this is the end for them.
“I should go.”
She follows him to the door and watches as he puts on his shoes. When he’s done, his hand holds onto the door handle, but she’s the closest to him that she’s been since they were in the shower together and his stubborn heart still wants more. His eyes flit between her and her lips and she mirrors the action. So he goes for broke; his hands find her cheek and waist and she is swiftly pushed against the door and kissed with all the passion that he can muster. His lips tingle from her rough teeth and tongue as their lips battle. Then he is pulled back to reality and he kisses her slowly, savouring the moment. He pulls back and exhales softly against her lips, giving her room to breathe. She doesn’t chase his touch, doesn’t ask him to kiss her again.
“Do you wanna get breakfast?” He asks this hesitantly, because part of him knows what the answer is, but he still does.
Her silence and the way she looks him in the eye provide the answer he had expected. She moves away from the door and opens it for him. He backs out through it, taking in all of her.
“Goodbye,” she says.
When he gets back home, the words come naturally. The melodies follow right behind accompanied by the notes on his piano. Shawn feels the tune vibrate against his fingertips that press down on the strings of his guitar, and he has a song. His eyes tear up when some lyrics hit so close to home that they tug at his heartstrings. By 7 am he’s singing loud enough to wake up his neighbours, but for once he doesn’t care, because he’s at peace.
He’s just shuffled in underneath his covers when he hears a tone from his phone and it lights up with her name on it.
So, I love how everyone is getting all into the eldritch horror visibly fae knowingly magical encounters. The descriptions are SO COOL.
But I’ve been thinking about how our understandings of the Fair Folk originated not with people who had these super obvious encounters with this visible magic figure. Instead, they come from people attuned to the ways in which this world as it is, is magical and frightening and overwhelming, and decided that eldritch monsters were the most logical and comforting explanation. So, I’ve been thinking a lot about how so many interactions with the fair folx could happen without the student knowing it….how many of these interactions and deals may have happened already. A few true stories:
My roommate joined ROTC her freshman year. Four years of university for free, for five years of military service. Don’t tell me that there is just flesh and bone under the glamour of a military uniform, under the medals worn by those who watched her sign her contract. The Fair Folk have always loved games, and to gamble your life in the future of uncertain war is certainly worth $60,000 tuition per year for four years, plus a monthly stipend.
I have a friend whose financial aid is paid by a grant from some folks from New York City. In exchange, once a year she dresses up, takes out her piercings, and goes to dinner with them.
Sit with us, tell us the stories of your studies, sing for us. Oh, you don’t sing anymore? But you sing so lovely. Sing.
At these dinners, she does not let her smile drop.
I worked with a senior who would be Successful. They did everything, could not say no, every opportunity bigger than the last and they could Do It All. Directing a musical with a full orchestra in the biggest theater, performing across town themself in a different show each weekend for months on end, five classes and a thesis. One night, drunk and at 2am, a time were the glamour drops and world blurs into honesty, they said “I am so fucking lonely.” That is a powerful trade: love as fair as can be, a beating heart, community. But they wanted to be able To Do It All and they did.
A few years ago, the school was raising money for the endowment (the school is always raising money for the endowment). They were holding a fundraising dinner, with Big Important People who must be Inspired by Students Like You in order to donate. They gathered together the most talented performers of the whole university. Dancers whose bodies defied physics, pianists who seemed to play with extra hands, singer whose voices rang inhuman. Maybe there is a reason we already had those skills, it’s hard to know. We’ve all made so many sacrifices already to end up at a school where we can get not a single credit for our talents. Maybe something is already taking its due. Still. They gathered us, and planted us through the field to mime silent excitement as the Big Important People entered the tent in a procession. They had us perform for them – but never in the way we do best. Bottle up your talent, make it look like this. Dressed us all head to toe in white. Gave clear instructions.
Hand them this book. Collect these cards. They will write a wish. If they speak to you, just smile. Do not speak back.
They had us wait behind the kitchen.
Whatever you do, do not eat the food.
The university knows how to make a deal. They know what a little Talent and a little Dignity is worth. And we already owe them so much…why not this too?
In the morning I went back to where the tent had been, only to find an empty football field.
I feel like I have to add that the last story is literally 100% true. The others I have taken small creative liberties with (mostly the ‘lonely’ one cause I don’t want that person to be identifiable). But this one is hundo percent reality. Nothing I could add about it would make it sound less weird. They set up this crazy huge tent for it and thousands of dollars of lights and projection equipment, and the next morning had taken down the entire thing. They had this whole projection thing that took up a side of the stadium with a video about how great the university is, except I’d never even HEARD OF most of the professors or programs they interviewed or discussed in it (like its a big uni but still). Went to go look them up the next day, but couldn’t remember the names. They had us count a specific number of steps from one section to another. They had us do a weird running pattern on the stadium stairs that was supposed to look cool but I think just opened a portal in to my own personal hell. I still have the white sneakers and sweatshirt they gave us but I legit have not worn them since that night; I’m slightly scared to wear them but somehow can’t throw them out. When the donors walked in to the tent, we literally just stood around the field jumping up and down with excitement (silently) and waving flags (silently) and for the first time I understood Artaudian horror. They had cards at their table that they were supposed to write these messages on, and then we would collect them in these books, and honestly the whole night is pretty hazy but it was weird. The whole thing was directed by Tony Award winner Diane Paulus (I swear to you this is true). Guys I’m low key pretty sure I’ve been to a revel and let me tell you, you are not a participant. You are there, but at best you are quaint entertainment, to be hidden in the corner when you’re not amusing them. You will do what they ask you (tell you). And there will be a part of you sitting on your shoulder saying, are you really doing that? And the answer will be yes, and it won’t be until after you leave that the wave will crash over you, nearly drowning you in the question, as you sputter awake asking, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUST HAPPENED?
On the rare occasion, I remember that there are indeed seven other classes and story lines to play in this game. After spending about an hour trying to find an outfit that didn’t clash with Izzy’s coloring, she and Andronikos finally made it off Tatooine. Huzzah!
For some reason, I had a completely different impression of this romance than it’s turning to be so far. I thought that it would start like some sort of friends with benefits thing, and while Mr Piratepants says that, before he even makes any move, he gets his new favorite Sith an ornamental weapon to hang on her wall, and gets a bit self-deprecating even.
Even though Izzy is turning out to be a fairly light-sided Inquisitor thus far, I like the commonalities between her and Andronikos. Having a pirate who values freedom above all is an interesting and smart choice to pair with someone who’s just escaped slavery and is tasting freedom for the first time (”through victory my chains are broken, and the Force shall set me free”). It’ll be interesting to see exactly how this plays out
(Also, oops, sorry Khem, I think you’re stuck guarding the ship for the rest of the game. #sorrybro)
(And only a couple of my followers play swtor that I know of, so you all get to help me deal with my pirate feelings)
Second most underrated romance in the game. (Felix Iresso is the first - but that is a post for another day). Lots of potential spoilers below, read at your own risk!
FIRST OFF - LOOK AT THIS BEAUTIFUL MAN
SECOND - YOU WANT A COMPLEX CHARACTER? HERE YOU GO!
Enlisted in the Republic Army at 18. Was a rising star in the Republic, made Captain faster than almost anyone ever.
Double agent wiped out his entire team. Every man and woman who served under him was killed and he couldn’t do a damn thing to save them.
He blamed the Republic for their deaths and deserted.
Unlike a lot of Republic deserters, he didn’t join the Empire, cause he hated them, too. So what does he do? He became a pirate and harassed them both!
Started off small, but works his way up, finally captaining the Sky Princess. Has a loyal crew. By all accounts, he was damn happy.
THEN SHIT GETS REAL
He found a sith artifact that basically made his crew go crazy. They mutiny and eject him in an escape pod. He’s picked up by the Empire and goes to jail for a year.
When he got out, he went to Tatooine, because that’s where his first mate, Sylas Wikes was. That’s when he meets the Sith Inquisitor.
Here is what not many people talk about. In the quest to get the artifact from Wikes, Revel has to kill every single crew member of the Sky Princess. Can you imagine how that would mess you up? Having to kill men and women who were loyal to you, who were your family? Who trusted you to keep them safe because you were their captain? AND YOU HAVE TO KILL THEM? It would mess me up.
THIRD - LET’S TALK ROMANCE
By the third conversation it’s obvious that the Inquisitor and Revel are digging each other. But he makes it clear to her that he’s not a play thing, that he’s his own man.
He doesn’t get jealous and respects the Inquisitor’s decisions. On Alderaan, the Inquisitor can sleep with Urtel and Revel doesn’t blink an eye. In fact, he finds his own one-afternoon stand.
HE GIVES HER A SWORD. Fifth conversation, instead of flowers, he gives the Inquisitor a sword that has a personal meaning to him.
After they sleep together for the first time, he asks her out on a proper date. He could have totally opted for a non romance sexual relationship, but he asked her out. And he asked her about her dreams and what she wants out of life. HE LISTENS TO HER.
What a lot of people don’t like about the romance is that he leaves the ship twice. But each time he promises to come back and he does. Revel has his own life outside the Inquisitor, which I love!
Something that doesn’t get touched on a lot is that he is there for her for all of act II and III when it really wasn’t clear whether the Inquisitor was going to live or die. What’s more, by my count, there are six instances when the Inquisitor has to do something where she might potentially die.
SIX! And Revel is next to her the entire time, he doesn’t waiver, he doesn’t ask her to stop, he has to watch her die over and over and instead of saying ‘this is too much,’ HE PROPOSES!
(1. Interlude before Act II, dealing with Thanaton 2. Going to save her apprentices on Quesh 3. Fighting Thanaton at the end of Act II 4. Using the machine to repair her body on Belsavis 5. Learning the Dreamwalk ritual on Voss 6. Accepting the Kagesh on Corellia)
What’s also great is that there’s a lot of ways to write them. Most of the versions I’ve seen have them immediately forming a bond after he joins the crew and starting a relationship right away. Personally, I don’t have them sleeping together until Act I is over, just before Act II. Revel needs some time to mourn his crew before he’s ready to jump into a relationship, is the way I look at it. You can write them light hearted, or more dark (HAVE I MENTIONED HE HAS TO WATCH HER DIE OVER AND OVER?) But the fact that there are a number of different ways to write them is another way that they’re great.
Imho, this is the best romance in the game. I can’t think of another romance (except possibly Vector/Agent) where the the male romance treats the female PC with as much respect to the women’s autonomy. He does not get jealous, he does not make crude remarks. This is a very well done mature romance. The Sith Inquisitor is also one of the best story lines in the game. And if you ever want to scream with about the sith and the pirate with me, please let me know.
<b>book!Casterly Rock:</b> stone fortress carved on top of a massive gold mine and is three times the height of the Wall or the Hightower of Oldtown<p/><b>show!Casterly Rock:</b> beachfront mansion with 10 bed/5 bath perched atop a cliff overlooking the Sunset Sea 🌅<p/></p>
I could sense it as soon as Spencer walked in the door.
He’d had an awful day at work.
When that happened, this happened…
“Mistress,” he said softly. Not asking, more pleading.
I needed to take control. Our relationship consisted of switching, but lately I’d been the sub. However, when we switched roles, I reveled in letting that side of me free. “Yes, honey. Bad day?”
Spencer swallowed hard. Reflected in his eyes were the horrors of his job, and lately the cases had been even worse. “Yes.” Though he was taller than me, I leaned up and kissed his forehead. I knew exactly what he needed. He wanted to relinquish all control and have me make every decision for him, which was something I was all too happy to provide for him.
First, he needed some tea. Tea always made him feel better. “Sit,” I said softly, guiding him to the table with a gentle, but firm hand. After placing the pot on the stove, I kissed the curls atop his head, running my fingers through them and massaging his scalp. He hummed in appreciation, which put a smile on my face as I reached for the tea and some cups in the cabinet. “I’m sorry, baby,” I said, placing the cup of tea just the way he liked it down in front of him. “Whenever you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen. Until then, I will tease you into oblivion. How does that sound?”
My baby reached back, his fingers grazing over my palm. “Good. Really good.” After taking a sip of his tea, he spun around in his chair and wrapped his arm around my waist. I could feel his steady breathing against my stomach; he hadn’t been this subby in a while, and though I loved being the dominant one, I couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. He was only this subby when work was really draining him; I couldn’t imagine what was going on in his head, but I could help him forget for a while.
Spencer probably could’ve sat there for hours with his arms wrapped around my waist, but I knew his mind would still be racing. Leaning down, I kissed the top of his head again. “Grab your tea, you can finish it on the couch next to me and then we can go inside.”
Awash with content knowing that he didn’t have to make a damn decision, he got up from the table and followed my instructions, leaning against my chest on the couch while he finished his tea. It took him about 10 minutes to finish and all the while I played with his hair; that always made him melt and I loved playing with his bouncy curls. It was probably one of my favorite things to do.
Once he finished, I took the cup to the sink so I could wash it later and grabbed his hands again to pull him off the couch. “We’re gonna go inside and you’re going to sit on the couch while Mistress touches herself. No touching for you.” I smiled as I booped his nose and walked inside, his footsteps resounding closely behind me. The way he blushed when he was all subby made me melt.
It wasn’t going to be difficult for me to get all worked up; I was already halfway there. Spencer sat down across from the bed as I pulled my shirt up over my head and discarded it on the floor, along with my bra, jeans, and matching underwear. “Eyes here,” I said as I sat down. I spread my legs and pointed down to where the arousal was already shining. “No touching me or yourself.”
I leaned back into the pillows with a satisfied smile as I heard him groan in frustration. Now his mind was somewhere else other than work, and I planned on keeping it here for a while. The sounds of his soft moans were all I could hear as I slid my fingers between my slick folds, moving them back and forth, up and down, and in and out to the rhythm of his breathing. Quickly, I brought myself to orgasm. When I pulled my fingers from my center, they were slick with arousal. Walking off the bed, I stopped in front of him and held my fingers in front of his mouth; he didn’t need to be told what to do, he just did it, cleaning my fingers and moaning at the taste of me that he couldn’t have up close and personal. I’d never imagined myself loving this kind of sexual power, but it came surprisingly naturally to me.
“Now that you’ve cleaned me up, Mistress is going to bring you to the brink over and over and over again until you’re begging me to let you come and then, and only then, will I allow it.” Again, he hummed in anticipation as I climbed into his lap and began grinding about his length, stiff against his pants. “Already hard for me, I see.” He smiled into my mouth. God, I fucking loved this man, dom, sub and anything and everything in between; he was mine. “Good boy.”
After climbing off of his lap and pulling him out of the chair, I peeled his shirt off and discarded it with my clothing before pulling his belt from its loops and pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. “This is all mine.” When I grabbed his length, he gulped, eyes going wide with possibility. “Are we clear?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice strained as I pumped his length.
With some leverage on his shoulders, he fell back into the bed and I climbed on top of him, strategically placing kisses underneath his chin, on his chest, and on his stomach before gliding my tongue down the length of his cock. He twitched against me, his hands desperate to touch me but under strict orders not to.
After tasting the pre-cum that was dripping from the tip, I ran my tongue up and down, following with my hands. “Oh my god, Y/N, I-”
“Excuse me?” My voice oozed warning.
“Mistress,” he said, swallowing hard as I reprimanded him. “Please.”
“More what, honey? Be specific.”
“Take me in your mouth…please Mistress.”
“Only because you asked so nicely.” With a shudder, his head fell back down onto the bed. I went back to working his length, gliding my hand up and down before wrapping my lips around him. There was something about looking up at him, having the power to do and say as I pleased, that always left me shaking; I couldn’t help but start to touch myself again as I took him deeper into my mouth. It didn’t take him long to begin falling over the edge, but as soon as I felt his muscles tighten, I removed my mouth from him. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
Two more times, I brought him to the brink and refused his release. He lasted longer and longer each time, to the point where I’d denied him for nearly 30 minutes. After switching between gentle strokes, firm grasps, soft licks and sweet kisses for another few minutes, his orgasm began to crest again. “Please, Mistress, I can’t hold it anymore. Please…”
I loved when this happened; he always got super desperate and forgot to use my title. “Please, please, please…”
God, I loved it when he begged. Subby to the extreme. Reaching down between my legs, I started to stroke my clit while continue my gentle assault on the tip of his cock. “Please what, sweetheart?”
Spencer was shaking with the force of staving off his release. It was getting more and more difficult and my hand kept moving faster and faster. “Please let me cum, Mistress. I can’t wait anymore.”
“Okay, baby. Cum for me.”
Oh, those magic words. They had barely left my mouth when he cried out, his whole body tensing while he released himself into my mouth. While I disposed of his release, I continued to stroke him gently, allowing him to ride it out at his own pace. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” I asked.
“Better,” he said, his eyes heavy with sleep. “Much better.”
I could’ve easily ridden him until sunrise in the state I was in, but he was starting to get tired - my torture and his job mixing together to form the perfect potion for sleepiness.
It was a little early for bed at only 9:00, but I could tell he needed sleep, so I crawled into bed and under the covers. “Come to me. You can sleep on my boobies.” I shook my chest playfully and told him we were done with the scene for the night, so he no longer had to call me by my title.
“The best kind of pillows,” he chuckled softly. His eyes were closed, head resting against me, one arm under the pillow under my head, and the other clutching one of my own. “Can you play with my hair until I fall asleep?” He was mumbling. He’d be asleep in no time, and undoubtedly in the morning, he’d be up for talking about whatever he’d seen this past week.
“Of course, love.”
As my fingers swirled and twirled around his hair, his breathing steadied out, his body rising and falling as he allowed sleep to overtake him. That’s why I loved us. We always knew what the other needed. I smiled to myself as my own eyes began to close, hearing one last thing before I fell asleep. “I love you, Y/N.”
a/n: Haha look who finally finished needy boys?? Ya’ll are lucky that @fightmeyeolie screamed at me until i wrote this.Otherwise who knows how long it would have taken me. So go thank her for being a thirsty hoe.
Sex. The entire dorm now smelled like sex thanks to the fact that no one seemed capable of controlling themselves today.
Jaebum had thought it was bad enough hearing Mark and Jinyoung going at it in the living room. But then Bambam had gotten home and the last thing he had wanted to hear was Bambam calling Jackson ‘daddy’.
Yet there he was, laying on his bed hard and annoyed using his sheer power of will to not scream.
All he had wanted was to take a nap and enjoy their day off and he didn’t think that was too much to ask for. But clearly he had been wrong.
With a groan Jaebum threw his arm over his eyes, praying that whoever he heard walking down the hall was not about to knock on his door because he really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Especially if it was one of those damned cock monkeys he had spent the last hour listening to.
He tensed as the walking slowed, then stopped, right in front of his door, followed by silence.
Maybe if he just stayed where he was they would go away. That’s what he was hoping when he heard a whisper, almost not even there but he would know that voice anywhere.
“Hyung.” Youngjae whispered again. “Are you sleeping?”
Leave it to Youngjae to be the only person actually concerned about waking him up.
“Nope.” Jaebum said just loud enough for Youngjae to hear him through the door from their bed.
Oh? What did he mean by that?
“Are you just going to stand there outside the door Youngjae? Or are you coming in?” Jaebum started to get up but stopped when he heard the doorknob twist.
Youngjae peaked his head through the door before opening it and slipping through, closing it just as quickly as he had opened it.
“Everyone else is sleeping, so I thought you would be too and didn’t want to wake up you.” Youngjae whispered as he stood at the end of the bed.
Jaebum groaned, shifting slightly to make room for Youngjae on the bed. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he felt the bed dip slightly followed by the warmth of Youngjae’s arm against his own.
“Did you have a nice walk with CoCo?” Jaebum lifted his arm so Youngjae could get closer, pressing his chest into Jaebum’s side with his head now resting on his shoulder.
“Mhm. She tried to chase the birds and a nice ahjussi gave her a treat.” Youngjae smiled as he threw his arm over Jaebum’s waist. Perfectly content to be wrapped around the older boy. “What did you and the others do?”
Jaebum groaned at the memory of what had occurred, the memory causing his cock to twitch gently as Youngjae’s fingers tapped against his sides. “You really don’t want to know Jae, trust me.”
Youngjae laughed at the face Jaebum was making. “I’m pretty sure I could guess.”
Jaebum opened one eye to look at Youngjae, surprised by the little smile that was playing on his lips. It was strange how that one simple look could stir butterflies in his stomach, but it managed to do so every time he saw it.
“Come here.” Jaebum slurred the words slightly as he pulled Youngjae on top of him, the younger blushing as Jaebum leaned up to kiss him.
Jaebum smiled at the the little sound Youngjae made when he slid his tongue into his mouth, their lips molding together seamlessly as Youngjae fisted his hands in Jaebum’s shirt.
Jaebum took that as his sign to keep going, his hands slipping under Youngjae’s sweater to run along the smooth skin of his stomach, up his sides and then back down. Finally settling on his waist to keep him still.
Youngjae sighed against Jaebum’s lips, a small whine leaving him when he pulled away to shift himself so that his back was pressed against the headboard.
“You look really handsome hyung.” Youngjae’s face turned red as he leaned forward, his breath fanning out over Jaebum’s mouth just before pressing his lips firmly to the olders, a needy whine filling the room around them as he pressed his chest flush against Jaebum’s.
Jaebum tried to hold back the pleased sound that made it’s way through his body as he wrappd his hands around Youngjae’s waist, a small attempt to stop him from rubbing back and forth his lap, his butt pressed firmly to Jaebum’s crotch. His breath catching at the feeling, just like it had the first time they had done this and every other time after that.
Youngjae had a way of making him feel like he was in high school, experience everything for the first time all over again.
“Hyung,” Youngjae pulled back just enough for Jaebum to have access to his throat, his mouth trailing wet kisses along the smooth skin. “Hyung can we?”
Jaebum chuckled at Youngjae’s words, a fire filling him as he reached one hand down to squeeze at his ass. Pride flaring in his chest at the soft moans coming from Youngjae’s mouth.
This was always his favorite part, hearing the sounds he could get Youngjae to make. But it was also the reason they didn’t do this as often as they wanted to, usually having to wait until no one else was home because Youngjae tended to be, well, very vocal.
But after having to lay there and listen to everyone else, Jaebum didn’t care.
“Of course we can precious.” Jaebum mouthed the words into Youngjae’s neck, his teeth nipping lightly at the skin. The whines leaving Youngjae’s mouth only spurring him on further.
Gently, Jaebum rolls his hips up, just enough to tease himself and Youngjae.
“Ah!” Youngjae let out a sound that was somewhere between a cry and a plea for more as he tilted his head back. The sound echoed in the room, filling Jaebum with the need to hear more of it.
With a grin Jaebum rolled his hips up again, slightly harder this time, and pulled Youngjae back at the same time. His cock pressing firmly against the softness of Youngjae’s ass.
Youngjae bite his lip in an attempt to hold back the sounds trying to escape his lips as Jaebum repeated the same motion over and over, making it harder for Youngjae to hold back until he finally let out a moan so loud they both stopped. Their hearts pounding in their chests as they headr a door open down the hall and slam closed again.
“Pfft.” Jaebum tried to hold back a laugh at the thought of the others being able to hear them.
“Hyuuuung! It’s not fun-ny!” Youngjae tries to scold him but it comes out in a squeak as Jaebum slides his hand under his shorts, his fingers pressing into the soft skin of Youngjae’s ass just shy of being hard enough to leave a mark.
“It kind of is though.” Jaebum smirked against Youngjae’s neck, his finger teasing the younger’s hole as he shifts in his lap. “I had to listen to them all go at it today. So it’s pretty funny.”
Youngjae let out another moan, this time softer but deeper as Jaebum pressed the tip on his finger in slightly, not enough to hurt, but just enough to make Youngjae whine. His hands going to Jaebum’s hair and pulling slightly as he tried to quiet himself.
“Hyung, don’t tease!” Youngjae whined, shifting back slightly against the teasing finger.
“Hold on sunshine, let me just-” Jaebum leaned over, trying to be careful as to not drop Youngjae, to find the small bottle of lube they kept in between the bed and the side table for instances such as this one. “Got it.” Jaebum gave Youngjae the most breathtaking smile as he held up the small bottle.
“Sit up.” Jaebum pressed his hand to the dip in Youngjae’s back, helping him lift up enough to pull his shorts down past his knees, just enough to free the younger’s hardening cock and plush ass as Youngjae pulled his shirt over his head. Grateful for the cool air surrounding his now too hot body.
Youngjae held his breath as he heard the distinct click of the cap being popped open, his body buzzing with anticipation as Jaebum brought his hand back down to his hole. The coldness of the lube and the pressure of his finger pressing against him making him shudder and let out a whiny breath.
“That’s it, let me hear you.” Jaebum licked at Youngjae’s now exposed collarbones, reveling in the shudders and little sounds he let out as his tongue moved across his skin slowly. Teasing the younger boy until he was rocking back onto his fingers in a steady rhythm.
“Hyung, more. Please. I can take more.” Youngjae whimpered, the sound needy and drawn out as Jaebum pressed in a second finger, scissoring them slowly to help with the stretch.
Youngjae’s breaths were coming out in short pants as Jaebum worked him open, his mouth leaving hickeys just low enough to be covered by a shirt, but high enough that he’d be able to see them if Youngjae moved too quickly.
“Ah! Hyuuuuuu-ng!” The words broke off in a high pitched sound as Jaebum pressed a third finger in, Youngjae’s body tensing and squeezing around him as he worked them faster.
The sounds coming from Youngjae only spurred him on more, his fingers searching for that one spot he knew would get the boy in his lap to scream in pleasure as his own cock strained against his boxers.
Jaeubum curled his fingers up, his mouth sucking a mark right above Youngjae’s collarbones as his fingers finally brushed against Youngjae’s prostate.
The sounds that left Youngjae’s mouth was a mix of a scream and a moan. High and needy and loud. It was exactly the sound Jaebum had been hoping for, a pleased smirk on his face as he lightly bit the skin he had just been sucking on.
“Hyung. Please.” Youngjae mewled, his body rocking back and forth to gain more friction.
Jaebum groaned deep in his throat, his cock throbbing as Youngjae rubbed himself against it. His moans gaining is volume and frequency as the older worked him open with a few more thrusts of his fingers.
“Up.” Jaebum half whispered, his voice catching as he used one hand to steady the boy above him and his other to pull his boxers down just enough to free his erection. His hand spreading what was left of the lube down his length as Youngjae hovered above him. His chest heaving as he breathed heavily, his eyes taking on a blissed out look.
“Ready sunshine?” Jaebum used the hand that was still resting at the bottom of Youngjae’s back to guide him back down. His other hand guiding the swollen tip of his cock to press against Youngjae’s hole.
“Hyung-” The word left Youngjae’s mouth in a gasp as Jaebum quickly pushed himself all the way into the younger boy’s clenching heat. Jaebum held back a moan of his own as Youngjae slowly rocked back.
“Come on baby, ride me.” Jaebum grinned, his hands wrapping firmly around Youngjae’s waist to help him slide and up and down his length. New sounds of pleasure escaping him with each movement until Youngjae was biting his lip in an attempt to contain himself.
As Jaebum bounced Youngjae up and down in his lap he used one hand to pull his face down to his by his neck. His lips capturing Youngjae’s in a hungry kiss as he pulled his bottom lip with his teeth. The younger letting out a whine that made Jaebum’s chest tighten with need.
“That’s right, let me hear how good you feel. Tell me how much you like it baby boy.” Jaebum grinned before attaching his lips to the side of Youngjae’s neck, right below his ear, and sucked.
He was pretty sure there was going to be a bruise there later but he didn’t care. The sound that Youngjae made as his hole clenched tightly around Jaebum’s cock, was more than worth it.
“Mmmmmm~” Youngjae keened into Jaebum’s chest, his hands searching for something to hold onto and settling for gripping his sides as he bounced up and down fast. The tip of Jaebum’s cock hitting his prostate with each thrust.
“Hyung, feels so goo-ood.” Youngjae had to slow himself to take a deep breath. The feeling of his prostate repeatedly being hit making him squeeze his eyes shut and hold his breath.
“Gonna cum for me hmm?” Jaebum practically growled, his hips thrusting up each time Youngjae slid back down his length. “Gonna cum untouched? Just from my cock inside of you like a good boy. Can you do that for Hyung?”
Youngjae nodded his head, afraid of the sound he would make if he tried to actually answer the older.
“Use your words for me sunshine, wanna know how good I make you feel.” Jaebum grunted, angling his hips up each time Youngjae slid back down his length to push himself as deep as he could get.
“Gonna cum for hyung.” Youngjae panted, a thin layer of sweat covering his bare chest making him shiver slightly. “Feels so good Jaebum-hyung don’t stop please.”
Jaebum smiled, pleased with himself and the never ending stream of moans coming from Youngjae as he continued to thrust up into him, the muscles in his thighs protesting. Jaebum could tell that Youngjae was close by the increasing pitch of his whines and the way his hole clenched and tightened around his cock.
Again, Jaebum attached his mouth to Youngjae’s neck. Sucking a line from the base to just under his ear, hard enough to leave little marks. “Come on sunshine, cum for me. Let me hear you scream my name.” Jaebum smirked, his teeth biting softly at the sensitive spot he had been sucking on previously right below Youngjae’s ear as Youngjae’s whole body tensed.
A scream of ‘Jaebum’ left Youngjae’s mouth as the boy came untouched. His whole body reveling in the feeling of his release as he continued to move up and down in Jaebum’s lap.
“Hyung,” Youngjae breathed out his name like a prayer, his voice shot from his continuous moans and whines. “Cum for me Jaebummie, wanna feel you. Please please.”
Jaebum gripped Youngjae’s hips tighter in his hands, fingers pressing hard enough that he knew there would be light finger shaped bruises left behind for days, and Youngjae tightened around him. It only took a few more thrusts and the sound of Youngjae panting against Jaebum’s neck for him to reach his release. Hot spurts of cum releasing into Youngjae as Jaebum held his breath.
Heavy breathing filled the space around them as the two boys attempted to catch their breath. Youngjae’s body sagging slightly in Jaebum’s hold as he leaned himself against the headboard
“Hyung, we’re all sweaty and gross. We should shower.” Youngjae began to move away but was stopped by an arm around his waist, pulling him back to rest his head against Jaebum’s shoulder.
“Sleep now, shower later.” Jaebum’s words came out as more of a mumble than a sentence, his eyelids closing as Youngjae laughed softly, curling himself in closer as Jaebum carefully moved them so they were actually laying down instead of sitting up.
“Mm’kay.” Youngjae yawned, his arm moving to wrap around Jaebum’s shoulders so he could close the little bit of space left between them. If anyone saw them they would mistake Youngjae for a koala and Jaebum for a tree with the way the younger had managed to wrap himself around Jaebum.
It was like this that the two fell asleep, oblivious to the other members standing in the hallway with looks of shock on their faces.
Adrinette with “Why are you in my bed?” for you, my good friend!
Summary: Marinette really just can’t catch a break.
Marinette greeted her mother, hugging her quickly. “I finished the deliveries, was there anything else you wanted me to do?”
Her mother shook her head. “Nothing dear. Thank you so much.” Marinette grinned and walked up to her room. Climbing through the trapdoor, she put her purse down.
“The last delivery was far,” Tikki chirped as she hovered out of the little bag. “You really should transform getting to some of those to make the trips shorter.”
Marinette laughed. “Transform more? I never thought I’d hear that from you, of all things! Always telling me not to transform over nothing all the time!” Tikki giggled in response. Suddenly, Marinette heard a strange noise coming from her bed. She looked at Tikki, who shrugged. They crept up to her bed, carefully.
Marinette groaned as Tikki burst into laughter. “Adrien,” Marinette chided, poking his face. “Do me a favor and explain to me…why are you in my bed?”
“Five more minutes,” he mumbled. Marinette slapped a hand to her face.
“What are you doing in my bed, you strange kitten?” Marinette prodded, poking his face again with her other hand.
“Your mom let me up,” he responded, yawning. “And I was tired from school. So I slept because your bed is warm and cozy.” He smirked devilishly at her. “Why don’t you join me?”
“Because you are a weird, silly kitty and I don’t want it to rub off on me.” Marinette responded with a matching devilish grin.
It soon morphed into fear as his smirk widened, and he got up.
“What are you…” He pounced on her and tackled her to the floor. “Adrien!” she yelped. He picked her up, arms encircled tightly around her waist, and pulled her into her bed with him. He snuggled close, putting his face against her neck. Marinette sighed.
“I win.” he murmured happily.
Marinette giggled. “Whatever you say.” she hummed, cuddling against his head. She ruffled his hair with her fingers, causing him to purr. “You’re really warm.”
She sighed. “If I fall asleep it’s your fault,” she warned. “I just had four deliveries and I’m exhausted.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut, as she felt Adrien’s breath against her skin. The warmth and the softness of her bed made her feel lethargic, and her breathing slowed.
“Sweet dreams, my Lady.” she heard, before she drifted to sleep.
When she woke up, she yawned and opened her eyes. She giggled when she saw Adrien’s green eyes staring at her own.
“Good morning, princess.” he whispered.
“How long was I asleep?” she asked.
“Just an hour or so.” he responded. “Your mom hasn’t commented yet, if that’s what you mean.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, that’s fine.” She yawned again. “I have to start the homework for tonight or I’ll never finish.” But his grip around her waist didn’t loosen. “Adrien seriously, let me get up.”
“I want to snuggle,” he declared stubbornly. “I have no intention of letting you go.”
“Adrien, let me do my homework.”
Marinette groaned. “Tikki, help me…” she called. Tikki floated over to her, laughing.
“I doubt I could do anything to help against his stubbornness, Marinette.” she replied. Marinette sighed.
“Yeah, what are you going to do, little Ladybug?” he taunted mischievously. She let out a little huff at that. He chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”
“I am not. Come on, you have homework too.”
“But cuddling is more important.”
“Well if you’re smart maybe!” Marinette cried indignantly. “I actually have to do the homework.”
“You’re smart.” He pouted. “Stop putting yourself down.”
“Adrien you really need to let me go.”
“How about no?” She squeaked as his embrace tightened. “Let’s stay like this a little longer.”
Not willing to argue anymore, Marinette conceded. “Fine, but when my mom comes up here you’ll have to let me go then.”
Adrien grinned at her, reveling in his little victory. Marinette giggled in response, kissing the top of his forehead.
“How adorable,” Tikki commented, brightly.
“How gross,” Marinette heard Plagg comment from her desk. Adrien rolled his eyes, and Marinette laughed.
“He’s busy gulping down the cheese I brought, he has no room to talking at all,” Adrien complained.
“Let him be, silly.” Marinette scolded lightly.
“Listen to the girl,” Plagg chimed in.
“Why don’t you take her advice and leave them be?” Tikki told him.
Marinette glanced upwards, getting an idea. She used her arm to knock over a basket, causing a ball of yarn to roll out onto Adrien. Distracted, he pawed at it and let go of her. Taking the opportunity, Marinette jumped out and ran to her desk. Adrien gasped.
“You little trickster!” he cried.
“Looks like I win after all,” Marinette chuckled gleefully. He stood up, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Are you refusing me my cuddles?” Marinette turned to her tablet and started working on it.
“Maybe,” she responded, distractedly. She didn’t notice he was right behind her until she was lifted out of her seat. “What the…put me down!” He didn’t listen, holding her over his shoulder. “Adrien Agreste, put me down this instant!”
He snickered. “Okay,” He placed her down on her bed. He then lied down next to her and hugged her again.
“Oh…!” Marinette muttered angrily. “…I give up! I just give up!”
Adrien laughed. “Just give them an excuse.” he stated childishly.
“I doubt any teacher would accept the excuse ‘My boyfriend refused to let me do my homework because he wanted to cuddle’.” she retorted.
Adrien pouted. “Fine…” Finally relenting, he let her get up to get her tablet. Seeing his defeated expression, she laughed lightly. Bringing all of her materials onto the bed, she wrapped her blanket around the two of them.
“Better?” she asked.
“Best,” he responded, cuddling with his arm around her shoulder. Marinette giggled as she got to work.
Somehow, snuggling with a warm kitty helped her focus. Maybe it was his soft purrs or their shared warmth, but Marinette thought she would definitely be willing to have an afternoon like this again.
I wanted to share these WIPs that I’ve been reading and adoring with all my heart, written by amazing writers, with everyone. Of course, I am a huge purveyor of Cullavellan so all the below are fics with that pairing. Most, if not all, deal with a Lavellan mage.