I have been,,,having Thoughts about kink discovery Shane playing around, waiting for Ilya to be out of the house and he makes a big ol protein shake…perhaps a little bigger than usual,,,, and he drinks it all himself, experimenting with the feeling and having some Realizations
Shane kink discovery 😭 so precious to me
here’s my vision, which is a lil more on the accidental kink discovery side…
It’s the end of a long, beautiful summer at the cottage and Ilya has left to drive back to Ottawa that morning, Shane is staying another day or two.
Shane goes to make his usual protein shake, a fancy affair with fruits and frozen kale and and protein powder that he does in the blender, and it’s only when he’s finished that he realises through sheer force of habit he’s made enough for two, him and Ilya.
It’s fine. It aches a bit because he misses Ilya so much already. But he can just store the extra in the fridge for later.
He drinks his portion. It’s nice, cool and filling. He’s had to get used to being full over the last few months, coming back from the post-playoffs leanness to preseason shape. It’s been easier with Ilya around, Ilya who likes to cook and has managed to cajole Shane sometimes into going off his diet plan. Ilya who has seconds, thirds, without shame and makes it feel easier for Shane to do the same. Shane feels strong, ready for the year ahead (and his belly is a little soft, his abs covered with a layer of fat that he knows will be gone once hockey starts in earnest, and he sometimes finds himself stroking his fingers over it without knowing why).
Shane’s looking at the rest of the shake. He could have a little more maybe. He refills his glass halfway. the thick mixture slides down easy enough but it’s tipping him into too-full territory. He puts a hand on his stomach, pretty sure he can feel it swelling up with every swallow. He’s hot, flushed, a strange buzzing feeling under his skin that he associates with…
The sound of the door opening makes him jump, nearly drop his glass.
“Shane,” Ilya’s voice calls out. “I forgot my…”
Ilya trails off as he rounds the corner. sees Shane standing there, one hand still resting on his bloated belly; Shane drops it quickly, but too late. Ilya’s got that head-cocked, sharp-eyed look as he comes closer. stands right in front of Shane, then leans around him to the counter, unplugging his phone charger from the wall.
“Enjoying your shake?” he asks. something so knowing in his tone, something that makes Shane shiver.
Shane puts his glass down quickly. Wipes his mouth - a little sticky trail of shake running down his chin.
“Yeah.” It comes out breathless. “It was good.”
Ilya makes a thoughtful humming noise. Looks at the blender, the remaining shake.
“You haven’t finished.”
“Oh,” Shane says. “I accidentally made too - ”
He breaks off when Ilya gets his hands on the blender’s jug, untwisting it from its base. He stares, heart hammering, as Ilya lifts it.
“Open, malysh.”
Shane does open his mouth. He opens it to say No, to say, I’ve had too much, or I’m so full. The words don’t come out. Instead, Ilya uses his free hand on Shane’s jaw to tilt his head back, and pours all the remaining shake down Shane’s throat.
When Shane’s finished, panting and overfull and - most confusingly - so hard he feels dizzy, Ilya brushes his fingers lightly over the round bulge of Shane’s belly - then trails down to where Shane’s dick is straining against his shorts.
“Good boy,” Ilya says. “Finishing all your shake. You deserve a reward, I think.”
Sinking to his knees. And Shane tries so, so hard not to think about the fact that when Ilya, in the middle of blowing him, reaches up to push on the fullest, firmest part of his stomach, that’s the moment Shane comes.
A few weeks later in Montreal, Shane gets an unexpected delivery. He opens the package. Inside are dozens and dozens of small cartons, labelled Boost. He reads the label of one - the number of calories alone makes him feel light-headed. Sick but also, gnawing deep in the pit of his stomach… hungry.
He texts Ilya a photo, because who else could they be from?
What the fuck is this?
Ilya’s reply is quick.
For your protein shakes.
Shane holds his phone with shaking hands. It buzzes again.
You need them. My growing boy.
That makes him blush, cheeks hot. Palming automatically at his little belly - the stubborn pudge that somehow hasn’t yet melted away, pushing out over the waistband of his pants.
That’s crazy, he types before he can overthink it. They’ll make me fat.
When Ilya texts back, it’s straight out of Shane’s darkest, most twisted fantasies, because somehow Ilya has always been able to do that. To know exactly what Shane needs.
Summary: Lan then crouched down beside him, stroking a hand down his cheek. It was ice cold. Like he’d pressed his hand against the frozen section on purpose.
He gasped at the delicious contrast, trying his best to nuzzle against Lando’s hand.
“You like that, baby? You want me to help cool you down?“
OR: Lando and Oscar’s air conditioning breaks while they’re in England for duties at the MTC. Oscar suffers more in the intense heatwave but his boyfriend has a fun idea of how to help…
Rating: Explicit ⚠️
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: Smut and Ice Play 🤭🧊
Read on AO3 | or read below 👇🏼
~
Oscar groaned as he closed the car door, grimacing as he leaned back into the passenger seat. The car had been baking outside in the car park while they’d been safe inside the air-conditioned MTC.
He clawed at the vents on the dashboard, adjusting them to aim at his face as his boyfriend started the engine. He’d swear that Lando was part reptile. Cold-blooded and always wearing layers, no matter the temperature in whatever country they were in. He was happily wearing a hoodie, while Oscar felt like he was in an oven in his shorts and t-shirt.
Yes, he was Australian, but he only got to go back there for two weeks of the summer. The U.K. heat and humidity just hit differently in the worst way, and he’d lived here for almost half of his life at this point. Singapore could be more bearable than this.
“Don’t you dare turn it down!” he cried as Lando’s fingers wandered towards the controls. Oscar’s own went straight to the window button on his door.
“I was checking it was still on max for you. If you open the windows, the air con isn’t gonna do shit.”
“Fine. Just drive, please!” Oscar begged, digging out his water bottle from his bag. He counted his lucky stars that their apartment was a newer, modern one with its own air conditioning. That was pretty rare in London.
Their car was a graphite Mercedes saloon. More inconspicuous than a McLaren supercar on purpose, with its standard number plate and ample room for Lando and Max’s golf clubs, or his nieces if they were visiting.
Feeling the air start to cool down as they set off for home, he sighed and relaxed back into the seat. Lando’s country playlist rang out at a comfortable volume, their hands entwined on the centre console between them. As much as he hated being a passenger in a car, with Lan driving, he could easily be lulled to sleep.
After a day of constant interactions with people from different departments at work, it was nice to sit in companionable silence, Lan singing under his breath every so often.
With their lifestyle, they were used to hopping between locations throughout the year, and having a London base beat flying to and from Monaco several days in a row for factory work, or the odd visit to the Quadrant office. Their high-rise apartment had a lovely view over central London, with top-notch security and privacy, all of the staff fully vetted and bound by NDA’s.
An hour later, the car was a comfortable igloo, and Lan was driving with his hands inside his hoodie sleeves. They pulled into the underground car park and made their way upstairs.
Upon opening the apartment door and expecting the coolness to hit him over the threshold, Oscar found himself groaning in disappointment when it was as hot as it had been outside. The thermostat on the wall read a number far too high, and he huffed as he dumped his bag on the floor and went about searching for the air conditioning remote. The curtains were all wide open, allowing the heatwave to enter their apartment unobstructed through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
“Didn’t we leave it on?” he asked as he jammed the button at the unit on the wall.
It wasn’t working.
And the thing was open like it should be on.
“We always leave it on,” Lando soothed him, rubbing his back before opening the two tilt windows in the open-plan kitchen and lounge space.
“It’s not working, Lan. It’s fucking broken!”
Lando took the remote from him and tried it himself, but the unit neither opened nor closed with the press of the buttons. No beeping noise. No refreshing cold air hitting them.
Storming through to the bedroom, he found the same thing. Overbearing, stuffy heat, bright sunlight, and a broken air conditioning unit. Fuck.
Opening the windows as Lan had done in the kitchen, he slumped back to his boyfriend, who was already on his phone. Calling their reception by the sound of the one-sided conversation.
“That’s great. Yeah. Cheers, bye. One of their guys will be up first thing in the morning to fix it, baby.”
Oscar groaned as he kicked off his shoes and tugged off his socks. Sinking to the vinyl tiled floor, he starfished out on his back. It wasn’t enough. His t-shirt and shorts joined his socks and trainers, leaving him in just his boxers for now.
Stripping completely naked felt too much for the kitchen floor. They could take a freezing cold shower together instead.
Lando, however, seemed content. He leaned against the counter, his eyes roaming hungrily over Oscar’s newly exposed sweaty skin.
“Sorry, I’m a bit desperate if you can’t already tell. You might have to drag me to the bathroom.”
Lando licked his lips. “Nah, I think you can stay right there, my love.”
Pleasure sparked down his spine, the usual delicious flush not at all helping his current state.
“Laaan,” he moaned with a gasp. “I’m too fucking hooot.” He turned his head to rest his cheek against the floor. But once again, the temperature difference wasn’t enough.
“You are fucking hot, baby. Look at you, all spread out for me.”
He twisted his head again just in time to catch Lan palming himself over his baggy jeans. It went straight to his own dick, already tenting in his boxers. “Fuck,” he squirmed. If he tried hard enough, he could make himself roll over and crawl to the bathroom.
Lando turned away, and he whined until he saw his boyfriend opening the fridge freezer. After a few moments, he closed it and walked back over to him, his hips swaying, stripping off his zip hoodie and throwing it over the nearest chair. His toned, sun-kissed biceps flexed beautifully, and Oscar was pretty sure he was drooling.
Lan then crouched down beside him, stroking a hand down his cheek. It was ice cold. Like he’d pressed his hand against the frozen section on purpose.
He gasped at the delicious contrast, trying his best to nuzzle against Lando’s hand. Fuck the shower, he might have to crawl inside the bloody freezer.
“You like that, baby? You want me to help cool you down? I have an idea that I think you’ll love very much. Just stay right here, okay?”
Oscar would take anything right now, even if it meant sacrificing some of their food. He nodded, his hips rutting up automatically, though there was nothing to give him relief. He moved his hand, but Lan caught his wrist, his other hand firmly pressing on his hip.
“Keep your hands behind your head, baby. No touching yourself, okay?” he whispered against his ear, and Oscar shivered at the lingering cold of his fingers and the teasing kiss pressed against his jaw. “I’ll take care of you. Be good for me.”
He let his arms be guided beneath his head, and he took several deep breaths as he watched his boyfriend walk away again. This time, he headed towards the bathroom. There was the unmistakable sound of a tap running, leaving him confused until Lan walked back into the room. Holding a soaking wet bath towel.
Thinking it might just be placed on him like a cooling blanket, he relaxed back into the floor. Lando, however, hovered above him.
“I’m gonna put this down and you can lie on it. Should be colder and nicer than the floor.”
“I fucking love you,” Oscar choked out as his boyfriend lay it beside him, and he shuffled onto it, immediately moaning in delight as it was beautifully cold against his sweaty back and legs. He closed his eyes and melted into it. “Best idea you’ve ever had, darling.”
He heard Lando chuckle. “Still think I can make it better. Just you wait, my love.”
He opened one eye, curious. Lan was back at the fridge freezer, rummaging around. It was a bit late to freeze any tea towels or any of their clothes for right now, but maybe something that could help them sleep later that night. He wouldn’t be against that at all.
So when Lando strode back over holding a bag of ice and a tea towel, Oscar wanted Lando to fuck him right then and there. There was a clatter as the ice hit the floor, but he didn’t care about it getting too wet as he urged Lan to kiss him.
He obliged with a wicked grin, his massive hands slightly wet now from the ice bag and the towel, and Oscar moaned loudly against his mouth at the sensation of those cold, wet, slender fingers exploring his abdomen.
Jesus.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby. I’ve got you right where I want you.”
Fuck, that was nice. So fucking good. He needed more.
“Please, Lan.”
“Tell me to stop if it gets too much or you need a break, yeah?”
He nodded, breathing heavily. The anticipation was killing him, his cock throbbing and aching. He was prepared to beg for relief if that was what it took.
Lan began to rub an ice cube between his huge hands, before using a small cloth as a shield between it and his fingers. As it touched his overheated neck, he moaned breathily, water sliding down his skin.
“Fuck.”
It was heavenly. Lando dragged it across his pulse point, the skin extra sensitive. Oscar’s head hit the floor with a thump, his fingers fisting in his hair.
“Steady, baby,” Lan soothed, before following the trail left by the ice cube with his tongue. He bucked up his hips, hands desperate to dive into his boyfriend’s curls.
The coolness of the wet towel beneath him, coupled with the frozen water, and then his boyfriend’s soft licks as he lapped up the ice remnants, made him wish he could bottle up this feeling and keep it forever. Pleasure coursed through him, overtaking the suffocating heat of the day and replacing it with chilled bolts of electricity, making his toes curl.
“So responsive. I’ve barely touched you.”
“Please, baby, I need more.”
Lando leaned forward, kissing his forehead before planting a chaste one against his mouth. Oscar whined as he tried to chase it. Lan simply grinned, two ice cubes in his hands this time, hovering them above Oscar’s torso. As they melted, they dripped down onto him like a freezing spit of rain, abs twitching and back arching at the feeling.
Lan pressed kisses into the drops this time, one massive hand spreading the liquid over his belly, the other popping the rest of the ice cubes into his mouth, making a clattering noise against his teeth and an ungodly sucking noise as they swirled around his tongue, before his other hand came up to Oscar’s mouth. Two soaked, freezing fingers hit his lips, and he wasted no time sucking them in, moaning long and loud once again as it soothed the heat of his dry mouth.
“Fuck, Osc. Look at you. Imagine me doing this to your arse.”
Oscar’s cock jumped at that, and he had to restrain himself from biting down on Lan’s digits. His boxers were painfully tight now. His boyfriend was still fully clothed. It was unfair!
“Undress,” he pleaded, though his voice was distorted around the welcome intrusion inside his mouth. Sucking on his favourite fingers like he was enjoying an ice cream.
“What was that, babe?” Lando asked, sliding out and thumbing over his lips.
“Wanna see you. Naked. Please.”
Beautifully cold lips crashed against his, and he sighed into them. Lan’s cooler tongue against his was like that first sip of water after a strenuous workout. After laps in Singapore. Bliss, and the need to pour it all over himself.
“Since you asked me so nicely,” Lan teased. He hastily pulled his t-shirt over his head before shuffling out of his jeans, boxers, and socks in one swoop of his paws. “I’ll get to you very soon, I promise.” He pulled the band of Oscar’s boxers before letting it go. He mewled at the light sting, his cock desperate for attention. Lando’s own hard-on bounced as he moved. His mouth watered.
He couldn’t take his eyes off his boyfriend, tanned and toned skin glowing in the evening sun. Lan reached back into the bag for some more ice, making a show of sucking one off again with his tongue. With another one, he rubbed it between his palms before touching Oscar’s inner thighs.
Like what he did with his neck, he dragged the cube along the sensitive skin and followed it with his mouth.
“Fuck, do that again,” he begged, warring between watching his boyfriend between his legs, and closing his eyes and soaking in the delicious sensation. Goosebumps erupted across his skin, the ice cooling him off despite the sexiness of Lando’s ministrations.
Lan repeated it on his other thigh, sucking the skin between his teeth before soothing it with his ice-cold tongue. Oscar whined, craning his neck to watch. Sweat beaded across his boyfriend’s forehead.
Lan rubbed his hip as he loomed over him, and Oscar grumbled, knowing he wasn’t supposed to move his hands. Featherlight fingers brushed his cock, and he thrust up to meet them, but Lan only cupped his jaw and kissed him fiercely, swallowing down his complaints.
“Please, please, please,” was all he could say against his lips.
His boyfriend was grinning devilishly again. “Nearly there, baby. You look so hot and flustered. So gorgeous. Nobody else gets to see you like this, only me.”
His hand was back in the ice bag. Playing the same trick, only this time rolling it between his fingers on one hand, the other braced against the floor to keep him hovering above Oscar.
“Close your eyes, my good boy.”
He obeyed immediately, melting into the short and sweet kiss he was rewarded with. When the freezing liquid drops hit his face, patting his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, and then over his lips and chin, he was babbling nonsense as the pads of Lando’s fingers spread them over his skin.
The cooling effect was instant, especially across his cheeks and forehead, and his cock strained in his boxers. He was surprised he hadn’t come already from the pleasure he was feeling, and how turned on he was. Once Lando actually touched him there, he wouldn’t be lasting long.
Lando peppered kisses all over his face, and Oscar could both feel and hear the ice cube inside his mouth. When their mouths connected again, he felt it bump against his teeth.
“Take it. Don’t choke,” Lan breathed, before relinquishing it. It was one of the hottest things Oscar had ever experienced, despite the sharp contrast in temperature as he swallowed. It was everything. It was like getting dunked in an ice bath, only gradual and sensual, and there was no way they’d ever get away with this in the paddock. “Fuck, you’re incredible, Osc. We’re at the best part now, like I promised. Keep your hands behind your head still, yeah? You can get me off after.”
Lan’s hands slid down his torso, mapping out his muscles. Oscar found himself rutting his hips again, knowing he was finally about to get some relief.
“Steady, baby. I’ve got you.”
He heard the rustling of the bag once again, then Oscar made the loudest moan yet, limbs lifting off the towel as Lando palmed his aching dick over his boxers. There was a cube in his hand. He could feel the chilly wetness seeping through the thin fabric. It was too much and not enough at the same time.
“Shit! Fuck! Lando, baby, take them off, please!”
His abdomen twitched as Lan placed the melting cube by his belly button and finally peeled his underwear off, Oscar planting his feet on the floor to buck his hips and get them off faster.
“Fuck, Osc, look at you. You’re red and leaking, I bet you’re so close already.”
He whined. “Yeah. Please do something or I’m gonna die.”
“Dramatic baby,” Lando cooed, making eye contact with him as he slipped another cube between his teeth. He held his hand up to show another between his fingers, escaped drops hitting his thigh. “You ready?”
Oscar tried to move his legs to surround Lando, his feet digging into whatever part of him they could reach. Lan grabbed them, kissed them, and teased them with the ice.
“Fuck, please, come on! I don’t wanna come yet!”
“Think you can hold off until I tell you that you can?”
“I’ll do anything for you to get your mouth on me and your fingers up my arse, fucking hell.”
Lan giggled, and Oscar found his fingers clenching in his hair again. He’d have to think of a way to get Lan back for this, take him apart achingly slow, teasing, and edging. Testing his patience and seeing how he liked it.
He was distracted thinking of such ways that he was unprepared for Lan to take him in his mouth so quickly and fully. Instead of the usual wet heat swallowing him down, the melting ice left his boyfriend’s insides more like a freezer, but Christ was it the most euphoric feeling.
“Oh fuck, yeah,” he moaned, breath coming out in heavy pants. Lando circled his tongue around him, and Oscar could feel the last of the cube melting against him.
The filthiest noises filled the air, Lan making sure to move himself over every inch of his cock, sucking and lapping, deep and then shallow, and it was a real challenge now for Oscar to keep his hands to himself.
When the hand holding the other ice cube trailed down towards his hole, Oscar honestly thought this might be it for him. Why hadn’t they ever thought of doing this before?
The freezing cold cube rapidly melting against the heat of his arsehole was even more delicious than across his face. Coupled with Lan blowing him, his legs were flailing, unable to stay in one place.
The obscenest wet popping noise hit his ears as Lan lifted himself off his cock. His lips were swollen, his eyes full of unshed tears, and all of his skin that he could see was flushed.
He was so fucking beautiful, and Oscar still couldn’t believe at times that this was his reality. Lando Norris fucking him, taking care of him, making him laugh, never letting their work come between them. Putting his hands on him every chance he got, that incredible nervous tic he had with his tongue, falling into bed with him every night. It still felt like a fucking dream sometimes.
Lan knelt between his legs, and the opening of the lube caught his immediate attention because where the fuck had that come from?
“Nabbed it from the bathroom earlier,” his boyfriend explained. “It’s been in the ice bag, so I bet it’s also nice and cool just for you, baby.”
Oscar was actually going to die.
“Jesus.”
“Name’s Lando, actually.”
“Please kiss me before you kill me,” Oscar whined. “It is agony not being able to touch you right now.”
“Aww, you miss my lips, my love?” Lan braced his arms on either side of his chest as he lowered himself down. “You’re so pretty.” A searing kiss. “How are you feeling? I can just finger you if you want until you com–”
“–Fuck me,” he demanded. “Please, baby, I need all of you.”
Another desperate kiss. Lan stroked his cheek. “Soft? Hard? Ice? No ice?”
“I don’t care, I’ll take whatever you give me. I just need you.”
“Okay. You can move your arms and touch me all you want, just don’t touch yourself, yeah?”
Oscar immediately dove his hands into his curls, sighing into the kiss at how he was able to dictate the pressure and length. Then he gave his shoulders a playful shove. Lan giggled, trailing kisses all the way down his abdomen as he settled himself back between his legs. Oscar moved his hands through his curls, Lando moaning at the pull. He only let go once he moved out of reach.
He heard the cap of the lube again, followed by the squirt, and he braced himself for the cold. Usually, Lan would warm it up between his fingers, but there was no need for that today, so Oscar was ready when he began to tease his rim.
His feet were firmly planted on the towel, allowing his boyfriend easier access, and he moaned loudly at the feel.
The sensation was heightened by the cold, Oscar melting into the floor, his head tipped back towards the windows, sun flooding his eyes as Lan breached him with a first slender finger. It slid in and out with ease, and he could feel it even more than usual with the stark temperature difference.
“Fuck. More, Lan, please.”
He wasted no time slotting in a second, scissoring them and stretching his hole, the cold intrusion fucking amazing against the tight heat around them. Oscar whined as they left him, but then let out a string of swears as Lan’s three fingers were colder and wetter, and he could feel the trail of the ice cube against him once again.
When they brushed his prostate, Oscar’s vision whited out, and he lost control of his mouth. Somehow, he didn’t come, but the pleasure was all-consuming, combined with Lando’s mouth against his thighs. His whole body felt like a taut elastic band ready to snap.
“So good for me, Osc, baby. Fuck.”
“Please, please, please,” he rambled.
“I’m here. I’ve got you.”
He heard more lube, then the dragging of the ice bag as it was placed near his right hand. Oscar’s fingers dove into it as Lan slicked himself up. Grabbing two, he held one between his teeth, while rolling one in his hand to soften it before placing it on his chest.
“Fucking hell, Osc. I’m not gonna last long.”
Oscar, ice in his teeth, winked at him, his cold, wet hand reaching for Lan’s huge neck.
As Lan finally, finally pushed in, Oscar bit down on the ice cube as they both moaned. Jesus, the size of him never got old. His massive paw of a hand stroked down his side as they both adjusted, then it moved to the cube on his chest, teasing around one of his nipples. He let out another string of swears at the sensitivity.
“You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight, so beautifully cold. ”
Oscar pulled him in for a hungry kiss, the melting cube clattering between them. Lan sucked it from his mouth, both of them groaning and panting as his thrusts deepened.
“There, right there,” Oscar wailed, sparks lighting in his abdomen. His boyfriend was everywhere. Sliding inside him, balls slapping against his arse, his massive hands squeezing his pecs, his nipples hard from the ice water, his lips against his jaw, his neck, and his chest.
Oscar’s own hands couldn’t stop exploring. Stroking his man’s curls, fingers scratching down his spine, fanning out across his muscles, squeezing his arse. His ears filled with obscene noises, both of them lost to the ultimate pleasure of being entwined together.
Sparks exploded into fire, and he cried out in euphoria.
“Lan, darling, please!”
“You need to come, baby? You’ve been so good. Come for me.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” His hips bucked to meet Lando’s thrusts as a cold, wet hand surrounded his cock and barely tugged before his vision whited out again. Warm cum hit his chest, and Lan was still fucking him, and his hands clawed at him. “On me, please.”
He whined as Lando slid out of him, but he kept enough awareness to rub one last ice cube between his hands before throwing it aside and grabbing his huge cock. Lan was swearing up a storm above him, egging him on as he jerked him off.
“Fuck, yes, Osc! Ohhh, baby!” Lan’s cum joined his across his chest. They both moaned. His legs gave out and he collapsed on top of him, both of them breathing heavily, Oscar’s arms protectively hugging him, Lan leaving soft kisses against his shoulder. He stroked one up through his curls again.
“Fuck me, that was incredible,” he panted. “Never thought I’d be into that. You ever done that before?” Lan had certainly seemed to know what he was doing.
“Not on a guy. But fuck, I’d do that to you again any fucking day.” Lan lifted himself enough so they could see each other. He stroked a hand through Oscar’s hair. “You were perfect, my love. Do you feel better?”
Oscar nodded, despite how aware he now was in the aftermath. The towel beneath him was no longer cold from his body heat, the sticky cum stuck between them, and both of them sweatier from fucking. But he didn’t care too much. The ice bag had been a true stroke of genius, and he’d be up for trying it out again in their Monaco home.
For now… “So much, darling,” he smiled, kissing Lan’s forehead. “Thank you.”
Lando used the towel to wipe them both down, chucking the ice bag into the sink. They washed up in a freezing cold shower, lazily making out, before passing out on top of their bedsheets.
After their nap, they both drank a lot of water while they ordered some food so they wouldn’t have to make the apartment hotter by cooking. They cuddled on the couch in just their underwear, enjoying the fan Lan had rush-delivered from the nearest store.
The next day, when they got back from the MTC to the glorious cold of the air conditioning working once again, Oscar took his turn taking Lando apart on the kitchen floor.
Could you possibly uncover some hidden kink fics for me? Something where one of the boys discovers the other is into something extra “weird” and “unusual” and they experiment with it…
Your help is appreciated as always!!!!
Hi! Here are some kink discovery/exploration fics...
strong poison by attheborder (E)
Crowley's venom has the power to induce a sedated state of extreme arousal.
Naturally, Aziraphale wants a go.
Book of Revvelations by Suvroc (E)
After resisting long and hard, Aziraphale finally agrees to go to a car show with Crowley. Little does he know how affected he will be by what he experiences there. Or: Angel with a Revving Kink.
Serving Suggestion by accidentaldemon (E)
"Just… I love to see you eating." It's little more than a murmur. It's not that Crowley is embarrassed, no. It's just a rather private matter.
"Yes, I know darling. I have known for a few thousand years."
"No, Aziraphale. I mean, I really love to see you eating. To a degree that it has sometimes been inconveniencing me."
----
Aziraphale and Crowley decide to play with Crowley's food kink.
Biting by goldenfences (E)
Biting: receiving sexual pleasure from biting your partner or being bitten.
-
“Az,” Crowley pants, looking panicked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I’m, I’m not sure what happ…”
He trails off as Aziraphale hooks a finger under his chin, raising it and holding withering eye contact.
“Did you just bite me?”
Crowley’s tongue darts out to wet his lips and he nods slowly. “I… I think so?"
Like a French Pastry by Blueroses_23, joy_shines (E)
During a quiet bit of Sunday banter, the tipsy husbands get to talking about their fantasies.
One of them involves Crowley shaking hands with Aziraphale's cervix, and Crowley is Very Interested.
Shenanigans ensue. (Sober and with consent!)
the salt down your spine by cassieoh (E)
Their first time together, three weeks after the world failed to end, had been everything he’d imagined and more. He’d learned that Aziraphale was just a little bit ticklish and he wiggled adorably when Crowley kissed his spine, that his angel was a cuddler, that his lips tasted like ozone and salt and everything Crowley had ever told himself he shouldn’t want.
He’d learned that his imagination had limits and that the things they shared beyond those limits were beautiful and tender and perfect.
Except….
There is a bruise on the side of Aziraphale’s neck, already shifting from red to purple save for the sharp white impression of teeth in the center.
He’d never imagined hurting Aziraphale.
Cha Se-gye couldn’t help the defeated groan that escaped him when his return home was met with sullen silence from Shin Seo-ri. The woman was nothing if not stubborn and her petty rage at his stealing her side dishes hadn’t subsided despite his apologies, half-hearted as they were.
“Are you still pouting? You know I can get you all the side dishes you want,” he sighed, shrugging his coat off and making himself comfortable right next to her on the coach.
She made a face, nose scrunched into her usual expression of haughtiness before she scooched over, putting some space between them before turning her nose up at him.
An odd mixture of annoyance and fondness surged in his chest at the sight. If that was how she wanted to play it…
Se-gye turned on the TV, playing the new Joseon era drama she had acted in. They sat in silence for a few minutes before he moved a little closer, pushing himself more into her personal space. Seo-ri shot him a sharp look, plastering herself against the arm rest. He kept moving closer, fighting to keep his face blank as his antics slowly riled her up. Finally, she had enough.
“Cha Se-gye!” she fumed, breaking her silence to kick at his legs and shove him further away. “Stay on your side of the couch!”
“Oh, but I quite like where I’m sitting,” Se-gye teased, leaning further into her space and throwing an arm around her shoulders. Realizing that she was trapped and how close they were, Seo-ri tried to wiggle free from his grasp but he only had wrap his other hand around her waist to keep her in place
“Unhand me, you degenerate!” she demanded with all the authority of a Joseon queen. But he knew better than to believe that wicked poker face of hers by now — it was just bluster to hide how flustered she was. How flustered he made her. Her reddening ears always gave her away.
“Oh, I’m back to being a degenerate, am I?” Se-gye challenged. “I’ll show you how a degenerate acts, Shin Seo-ri!”
Without warning, he began tickling her, gently digging his fingers into her sides. Seo-ri started, an involuntary shriek escaping her before she started laughing. It was an uncharacteristically high-pitched and girlish sound that he adored hearing.
“He-Hey!” she protested, squirming desperately to escape the tickling sensation. “Cease this mad-madness, you– you—”
“I what?” Se-gye teased as she trailed off, overcome by laughter. A snort escaped her and Se-gye couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning over to kiss a trail down the back of her neck, which only served to further her laughter.
Her face had flushed a deep crimson when he finally stopped and she slumped in his arms, too exhausted and out of breath to further reject his affections. She would’ve slipped away long before if she really didn’t enjoy his company.
“How’s that for degeneracy?” Se-gye asked, eyes glinting with a smugness that he knew infuriated Seo-ri. She bit the arm he had wrapped around her shoulder in retaliation, earning an unmanly yelp for the man as he tried to shake her off. “What are you, a wild beast? Quit biting me!”
Seeing that she stubbornly refused to let go, Se-gye bit her back, sinking his teeth into the crook of her neck. Seo-ri shuddered, abruptly releasing him as she took a sharp intake of breath. Fearing that he might’ve hurt her, Se-gye did the same and she pulled away, covering the bitten area with her hand.
“Are you alright?” he asked, peering at her in worry. “What was that?”
“You simply… took me by surprise,” Seo-ri answered in an uncharacteristically halting manner. She was stiff as a board and wasn’t meeting his gaze, so he’d either hurt her and she wasn’t telling him for whatever reason or…
Se-gye’s gaze flicked to her ears, which were still stained with a deep red flush. A slow smile crept across as the realization dawned on him.
“Let me see,” he offered gently, pulling her hand away to inspect the bite mark. It was hardly visible, with small reddened indents where his teeth had poked her skin — nothing compared to the angry red spot she had left on his arm. “It doesn’t seem too bad. Does it hurt?”
“No, you haven’t caused me any harm.”
“Tell me, then, does this hurt?” he asked in a dangerously soft tone and it was all the warning she got before he bit her once more. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, barely more than a nibble, but she shuddered once more, exhaling sharply.
Took her by surprise, his foot.
She was into this. Shin Seo-ri was into biting.
“You— This isn’t—” she sputtered in protest but the way she was melting into him, making no effort to pull away, gave away her true feelings. “This is improper,” she whispered, her breath hitching as he bit a little harder.
“Improper?” he murmured against her skin, pressing a kiss to the bitten area. “I told you, didn’t I? When there’s no one here but us, Shin Seo-ri, we can be as immature and improper as we want,”
All further protests died at her lips as he pulled her closer, gently grazing her neck with teeth before catching her earlobe between them and biting. The sound she made was electrifying – a low, cut-off whimper he’d never heard before.
He wanted to hear it again, to coax all kinds of sounds from her.
All thoughts slipped from Se-gye’s mind as the air grew thick with heated tension, time slipping by in a blur of rough, intimate biting and desperate kissing. His Seo-ri certainly hadn’t been shy herself, emboldened by desire, and the tender bite marks she’d left on his neck and shoulder showed that.
“Shin Seo-ri,” he whispered hoarsely as he broke away from their kiss. Her eyes were dark with hunger and impatience, annoyed that he dared to interrupt the moment. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold myself back if we don’t stop now.”
Seo-ri’s eyes flashed, first with understanding, then with fondness. There was something deeply enchanting about the intensity in her eyes as she reached, cupping his face with her hand. “And who told you to hold yourself back, Cha Se-gye?”
He didn’t need to be told twice. After all, there was nothing he hated more than wasting time.
A guy who is so unsuspecting in his daily life. Literally just the sweetest person. Kind and forgiving. Full of positive vibes and tender touches. In the beginning I’d love how soft he would be during little intimate moments. Feeling so confident in how gentle he would be, only for him to completely shock me the first time we actually have sex.
His surprisingly powerful body pinning me down too quick to react, his gentle hands turning rough and groping me all over, his hot tongue melting my skin as vulgar twisted words drip from his usually honey sweet lips. To see his dark hidden desires cloak his usually light smiley face. Watching his mask slip off and his dominance radiating through me. Controlling my body and mind in ways I never thought he could. To be consumed by his overwhelming lust and fucked within an inch of my life.
…I want to be ruined by a wolf in sheep’s clothing
Something that came to mind after writing and drawing scenes from my fanfic "Who's A Good TV?", the idea that most likely Tenna would indulge Spamton with a softer side of his kink after being the center of attention so much. Granted he wouldn't be into it as much as Spamton as it's uncomfortable for him, but sometimes he feels it's nice to give him some extra special attention.
Jungkook confesses his secret, embarrassing kink to Taehyung.
Taehyung decides to test what Jungkook really means by it.
—
CW: burp kink, nsfw, coming in pants
It was late at night after a party that bts were told to show up to. It was fun, as these parties usually are, but it left most of them exhausted by the end. They stumbled back into the dorm at around midnight, saying their goodnights and going to their respective rooms to “sleep for the next 3 days.”
The only ones not exhausted were the youngest two, Taehyung and Jungkook. They were wide awake, almost two hours after the party, giggling and basking in each other's company. The night had melted into this perfect intimacy, like the world outside didn’t exist anymore. They never got as tired as the others. They were rowdy when together, sure, but that’s not why they were still up. Tonight, it was because of their “routine.”
This routine happened after parties like these. They’d take the unopened alcohol for themselves, and that’s pretty much all it was.. they just had this habit of drinking more and more. Of course, they’d ask the host if they could take it—giggling and stumbling while asking, making it obvious they really didn’t need it—but who could say no to those faces? No one could; so they always ended up with more alcohol than needed, and these nights happened more often than not.
Nearing 2 am, the only light in the room came from the lamp in the corner and the glow from the window. Jungkook sprawled across the couch, his cheeks flushed in the way they always were when he had this much alcohol. Taehyung was sitting against the armrest facing him, eyes crinkled with laughter at something Jungkook had just said.
Jungkook could only stare at him. He felt this loving, warm feeling in his chest when he was the reason Taehyung laughed the way he was. His laugh—his real laugh, it was this rich, full, unrestrained sound that carried through the room. It was just one of many things Jungkook felt honored to hear. He couldn’t stop the grin stretching across his face as he sat up to face him, like he had to mumble something to release the butterfly-like ache in his chest.
“God,” He muttered into the rim of his bottle, shy even though he was tipsy, “you’re so loud when you laugh.”
Taehyung’s laughter only doubled at that. His eyes were bright when he looked at Jungkook again. “Yeah? Well, I’m loud with lots of things…”
Jungkook tilted his head, already smiling, thinking Tae was talking about his sneezes (cause damn, were those loud.) “Like what?” he encouraged, thinking in this moment how grateful he was for the soundproof-ish walls. (Plus, the others were heavy sleepers when they were drunk.)
“Like when I burp,” Taehyung announced proudly, like it was a badge of honor. “Isn’t that always super loud?” He laughed at his own words and tipped the bottle back, gulping a long swig.
Jungkook laughed at that, a little too fast, but he shoved it down and just kept talking.
“Yeah, yeah, well… like, other things can be loud too,” He mumbled, trailing off at the end like he didn’t know where he was going with that.
Taehyung tilted his head, laughing at the sudden blush growing on jungkooks ears. “why are you blushing?”
Jungkook, without thinking, covered his face with his hands and argued back an “I’m not!” which Taehyung found even more silly.
Jungkook knew he was blushing. He knew he did a bad job of hiding when he felt… aroused, in a way. He didn't expect Taehyung to bring that up. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked.
He had a secret.
The truth was that Jungkook had a fetish for that stuff— burping aroused him. Not usually himself; it was always from others. It was worse now that he was drunk. It was really bad. He hadn’t been able to tell anyone because he swore that he never would.
At some point before now, he wanted to tell the others, if it ever got easier to do so, for this exact reason. He couldn’t help himself from “reacting” when certain things happened, blood rushing to his cheeks whenever anything piqued his arousal and then threatening to rush down. He knew one of his bandmates would find out at some point; his reactions weren’t exactly easy to hide—and he’d rather confess himself before they found out in some weird way. He’d just feel like a pervert if that ever happened.
Yet, the strangest thing—as time went on, he realized it was specifically Taehyung who had that effect on him. Tae was right in saying his burps were loud—that’s particularly why Jungkook could almost see it as this strange, intimate thing. No matter how loud Tae got, his burps were the loudest when it was just them two.
That’s what drove him so crazy. Especially if they were doing something in public or filming, and little noises were stifled, Jungkook felt that he “knew something” the public never would. It’s such a stupid little thing nobody else would think of, but he’s always thought that way. The reality of it bricked him solid.
So, with all that said, it’s no surprise that at the end of these nights, Jungkook stays in his room jerking off to the thought of Tae burping for him next time.
Like that would ever happen.
Realizing he was staring off into space, Jungkook stiffened without meaning to, eyes darting to Taehyung’s mouth before snapping them away.
It was stupid. So stupid, because his fantasies made him react in such a way. More blood rushed hot to his ears, heat crawling down his neck.
Of course Taehyung noticed the stiffening and change in hue, because how could he not? His laughter slowed, the corners of his smile twitching with curiosity.
“You okay?” Taehyung finally asked, leaning a little closer.
“Yeah,” Jungkook said too quickly, clearing his throat. He forced a laugh, waving it off, instantly blushing at how stupid this was. “It’s nothing.”
Taehyung wasn’t convinced. His brows pulled together slightly, staring at him a bit harder. He knew Jungkook too well. He could tell when something was gnawing at him.
“Seriously, what?” Taehyung prodded, tilting his head, eyes flicking over Jungkook’s face like he could read his thoughts if he stared hard enough. “Why’d you look at me like that just now?”
Jungkook swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Fuck, Tae wasn’t gonna let it go. “No reason.”
“Liar,” Taehyung pointed, leaning closer until Jungkook could smell the warmth of beer on his breath. “Come on. What’s up?”
Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You wouldn’t get it.”
But his voice faltered, and that was the mistake. He knew it, the second he said it, that he hadn’t completely shut the door. He could feel Taehyung catch it, his sharp eyes narrowing.
“You’re hesitating. That’s how I know you actually wanna say it.”
Jungkook’s face burned hotter.
“You’ll think I’m crazy,” Jungkook mumbled finally, shaking his head. He couldn’t even meet Taehyung’s eyes, staring instead at the label on his bottle, peeling at it with restless fingers.
“Hit me,” Taehyung said easily, voice gentle. He shifted even closer on the couch, shoulder brushing Jungkook’s arm. “I’m serious- you know I don’t care. Tell me.”
The words hung heavy in the air. Jungkook could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears—he could also feel his throat tightening, as if his body was trying to physically block him from speaking. He really wanted to change the subject. He hated himself for even reacting in the first place, otherwise they wouldn’t be here.
Though, he wouldn’t have been able to control it if he tried.
It was time, wasn’t it?
Taehyung was right there, watching him, genuinely curious about it, and Jungkook’s chest was aching with the weight of keeping it in. That stare, he just…
His voice came out low and broken.
“I get turned on by that kind of stuff,” Jungkook blurted, eyes squeezing shut. “I—um, I guess I have something of a burp kink. It’s… yeah.”
The words had barely left his mouth before he regretted it. He couldn’t bring himself to look up. He hated silence more than anything, and right now, the silence was deafening.
When he lifted his gaze, Taehyung was staring at him- head tilted slightly, brows furrowed in confusion. Yet there was no mockery in his expression. It was nothing Jungkook had braced for, It was just… genuine curiosity.
And, somehow, that was worse.
Taehyung wasn’t giving him an out. He was just staring, staring, staring, as if Jungkook was a puzzle he wanted to figure out. Jungkook could feel his face heating more with every second of silence. He looked down to the side almost immediately after the eye contact. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime.
Say something. Please, just say something. Anything.
But Taehyung didn’t.
He just leaned in, and Jungkook barely had time to blink before Taehyung let out a burp, loud and deliberate, right in his face.
“Yah!” Jungkook yelped, shoving at him, hands flailing to push him away. His nose wrinkled into mock disgust, the same way he always reacted when one of them did something gross. The way he trained himself to react.
But… again, clockwork—his body betrayed him instantly after.
The heat that shot through him made his face go scarlet in an instant, every nerve lighting up like fire. His chest squeezed, and there was no denying the way his body reacted, hard and fast, right there in his sweatpants.
Taehyung’s laughter filled the room again. He pulled back just enough to look at the younger boy properly, and when his eyes flicked down, Jungkook knew he saw it. He knew it was obvious.
“Oh,” Taehyung choked out between laughs, pointing blatantly at the very obvious erection. His grin spread wide like he saw something truly amazing. “You really weren’t lying, huh?”
“Stop!” Jungkook barked, swatting at Tae’s hand. He didn’t expect Tae to be so fucking bold. His stomach twisted with humiliation, but underneath it… goodness, underneath it was that unbearable thrill. He wanted to die and melt into the couch, but also, he… didn’t want Taehyung to stop looking at him like that.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Taehyung’s laughter softened into something more curious, his tone leveling out. “So… not judging you or anything, but…” he gestured vaguely, bottle dangling loosely from his fingers. “Have you always gotten turned on when me or one of the guys burped? And just never told us?”
The genuine curiosity on Taehyung’s face made Jungkook’s stomach flip, but the question just made his skin crawl with shame.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “No… well, maybe, but it’s like… ah, I don’t know, it’s just… I don’t know!” He wanted to shove the words back into his throat, but Taehyung’s eyes were locked on him, waiting for him to say more.
Jungkook felt like such a pervert.
He was still twitching with need at Taehyung’s stare. He didn’t know why the questioning and staring was making him ten times more horny, but Taehyung ended up noticing it.
“You’re really worked up,” Taehyung murmured, almost to himself, studying the boy. “Like, way more than I expected.”
“Hyung, I shouldn’t have said anything,” he blurted out, voice small, almost broken. “This is—fuck—it’s weird! I’m really weird for this.”
Taehyung tilted his head again, eyes narrowing, like he was reading between the lines. “So you.. feel like a pervert, then?”
Jungkooks lips parted at the sudden question, strange ass question at that, but nothing came out. His body pulsed with arousal he couldn’t fight, and yet all he could think was yes. Yes, I feel like a disgusting pervert.
He just weakly nodded.
Taehyung’s voice softened, but the curiosity didn’t fade. “How long have you known? That this… does something to you?”
Jungkook’s stomach flipped violently. “I—” He shook his head, struggling. “I don’t know. A long time.” His voice cracked on the last word.
Taehyung’s brows twitched upward, intrigued. He leaned back, bottle still dangling between his fingers. “And every time one of us—” he gestured vaguely, “you just… what? Pretend it’s nothing?”
Jungkook couldn’t find the words to even answer that. His erection was throbbing now, humiliatingly obvious. The pressure of Taehyung’s questions only wound him tighter, and he hated himself for it. He couldn’t help shit.
Even with his eyes pleading that he didn’t know—eyes that Taehyung definitely knew how to read—Taehyung didn’t let up.
“Have you ever gotten hard around us before? Like at the dorm?”
“Fuck,” Jungkook rasped, curling in on himself, holding himself like he was cold. “Don’t make me answer that.”
Taehyung’s voice dropped lower. “That means yes.”
Jungkook weakly shook his head, even though they both knew it was a yes. He felt like he’d ruined everything—that Taehyung was staring at him differently now.
But Taehyung just chuckled, shaking his head as well like it wasn’t a big deal at all. “Well, I’m not judging you or anything,” he said easily, “But you’re one lucky boy if that’s the case. Living with all of us.”
Jungkook’s breath hitched, because he knew exactly what Taehyung meant, and it made him feel naughty to think of it that way—the seven of them, crammed into the dorm for years, sharing everything—yeah, they’d been disgusting. “Boys being boys” when it was just them. Stupid contests of such a sort, laughing until their stomachs hurt.
In all honesty, Jungkook found himself getting horny from those moments. More times than he cared to admit.
But it wasn’t like he could help it. His body reacted, and every time it did, he shoved it down the best he could. He buried it under guilt and dealt with it in his room later.
But now Taehyung knew. He couldn’t exactly do that anymore.
Jungkook kept his head bowed, nails digging into the hem of his hoodie, but his eyes betrayed him. They flicked up, darting toward the beer bottle in Taehyung’s hand, then away again like he’d burned himself just looking.
Taehyung’s able to read Jungkook well. He couldn’t help but think of how needy the boy really was, having just told him this, now all he can do is plead with his eyes? He was definitely getting teased for it later. Now, though, being so brave with confessing his secret, he does deserve something.
Taehyung brought the bottle back to his lips, tipping it back. The amber liquid sloshed down his throat in a long pull, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. Jungkook looked up immediately, gaze locked onto the movement, wide and desperate, as if he were starving and Taehyung was dangling food in front of him.
Taehyung smirked around the glass, savoring the power of it. He didn’t even have to guess anymore—he could feel the heat of Jungkook’s stare and the way it clung to him.
He set the bottle down with a soft clink on the table, tongue running briefly across his lips. Then, without warning, he let out a loud, guttural burp, leaning back a little with the sound.
Jungkook jerked, thighs clamping together. His cock twitched visibly in his sweatpants.
Taehyung exaggerated a sigh afterward, lolling his head back against the couch cushion, making it look like the release had drained something from him. He even dragged a hand lazily down his stomach, like it had taken effort.
The sound Jungkook made was barely audible, like a choked whimper he tried to swallow back. Shame spilled off of him in waves, but at the same time, there was no hiding how much it got to him.
Taehyung sat up and leaned forward again, smiling sweetly at Jungkook as if he hadn’t just activated all of his neurons. “That got you, huh?” he asked softly, almost curious, but his eyes gleamed with mischief.
Jungkook shook his head too quickly, too forceful to be believable.
Another burp cut through the air, even louder this time, dragged out until it echoed in the quiet room. He didn't even bother to move away beforehand.
Jungkook pulled his knees into his chest, wanting to hide his face in them. He looked like he might break apart at the seams, and he felt like it too. His body was almost shaking with arousal, but he was still trying to fight it, for some reason. Taehyung felt a thrill run down his spine at the sight. He just… has to win that fight, he guesses.
He went again, pushing a third out, deeper, rougher, like he was testing how hard he could. And then a fourth, letting himself completely give in to it, rumbling low in his chest before the sound tore through the air.
Jungkook was gone. He thought about how Taehyung was just forcing them out now that he had the permission to. He straightened up a bit, his movements jerky, now hugging his knees. His body screamed its betrayal louder than any denial from his mouth could cover. He couldn’t stop shaking as he stared.
Taehyung chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, more to himself than to Jungkook. He wiped his mouth lazily with the back of his hand, tilting his head as he studied the trembling mess in front of him. “Guess I’ve got a real talent for this, huh?”
Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, unable to answer. His cock strained painfully. It made him feel like crying. He wasn’t about to just pull it out, but in his mind, he was screaming for it. He needed Taehyung to give him permission. He could pass out right about now.
Taehyung was making him wait, though. The tease he was. Of course he could tell how bad Jungkook needed it, the trembling made that obvious from the start. He was a pretty bad liar. His body told the story for him.
Taehyung leaned back again, gaze locked onto the boy. He wanted to see just how far he could push him. Jungkook hadn’t said a word since Taehyung said that thing about being lucky, yet his squirming and little whimpers said more than words. So he started to experiment with that.
He took another long pull from the bottle, making sure Jungkook was watching, before letting go and tipping his head back deliberately as he burped, long and rough, exposing the pale line of his throat. The sound echoed through it, rolling out with more weight than usual. Jungkook’s eyes locked onto the movement of Tae's throat, a helpless whine spilling out before squeezing his eyes shut again. He was squirming like crazy. He needed to touch himself badly.
Taehyung smirked to himself. Interesting.
He let his shirt ride up with a flick of his wrist, baring his skin casually, almost lazily, right before forcing out another deep, chesty sounding burp. The way his abs flexed with the sound wasn’t lost on Jungkook. His eyes snapped downward as his thighs twitched and squeezed into each other. He shifted, letting his knees down so that they were now crossed. He shoved his hands into the space between his crotch and his legs, and the strangled sounds that left his throat as he grinded into the couch were so raw that Taehyung had to bite back a laugh. He wasn’t making fun of his baby, but he loves that sound so much, he can’t help but to laugh.
He could feel the power pooling in his own chest now, humming under his skin. Jungkook was giving him everything without a single word. He needed to do something else that might make him even hornier.
Taehyung looked down at his abs, thinking, before placing his hands on them and pushing. Jungkook was staring, obviously waiting for it. Taehyung pushing on his stomach like that would only cause more air pockets to dislodge. After a while, Taehyung's stomach gurgled loudly before forcing out another loud, long burp. It strung out, almost stuck—he placed his hands lower and pushed inwards for a few seconds, and then everything else came rumbling out. He sighed a breathless groan afterwards, letting his voice drop low and casual. “Ahh, that felt good…”
Jungkook moaned helplessly. His head tipped back against the couch as his hips stuttered forward in a helpless rut. His whole body shook like the sound alone had undone him—and it did. He was grinding hard into his hands, digging into the couch.
Taehyung felt his own cock twitch in response, heat coiling low in his stomach. Oh. He loves that one.
Taehyung hummed under his breath, almost proud of himself. He had Jungkook wrapped so tight around his finger, unraveling under every little test, trembling right there in front of him. At this point Jungkook’s cock was pressing up against his sweatpants in a way that made Taehyung wonder how he hadn’t started touching himself.
Taehyung finally decided it was enough, Jungkook had suffered enough. Tae’s voice dropped low, commanding yet amused.
“Go on, baby. Touch yourself.”
Jungkook froze, chest heaving. His face flushed an impossible shade of red, eyes darting down like maybe he hadn’t heard right.
“T-Tae…” His voice cracked, a whimper laced into the sound.
Taehyung’s smirk widened. “I know, baby. You want it. So do it.”
Just the tone Tae was using, along with the weight of being seen so completely, broke the last of Jungkook’s restraint. He let out desperate whines as he looked down and slid his trembling hand down his stomach until it cupped himself through his sweats. The relief of finally touching, even through fabric, made his eyes flutter back instantly, lips falling open in a whimper.
Taehyung didn’t let up. He looked down at the sight, before using a fist to pound his chest, forcing out another deep burp just inches away. He followed it with a sigh so dramatic it made Jungkook instantly buck into his own hand.
“Ahh… god, that one was so strong. You like that, don’t you?”
Jungkook choked on a whine, nodding furiously even as he hid his face in his other hand. “I—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” Taehyung cut him off, his voice suddenly sharper. “Say it.”
Jungkook whimpered again, palming himself harder, hips twitching against his hand. The sensation was making him delirious. His body wanted to scream the truth while his mind told him he’d die from saying it out loud.
Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. He leaned closer until his breath ghosted against Jungkook’s ear, gently rubbing the boy's shoulder as he tried to coax a second confession out of him. “Admit it, love. Admit you want me to keep going. Admit what you’re thinking while you jerk off in front of me. Or I’ll have to stop…”
Jungkook cracked. “I—I like it, hyung,” he blurted, voice high and broken. “S—sorry, I love it so much, I can’t stop thinking about you burping like that—I—just please, don’t stop—”
Taehyung’s lips curled in satisfaction. “Atta boy, using your words for me.” He took his hand away from Jungkook’s shoulder to thump on his own chest, letting another burp rip out, long and guttural, then dragged a hand lazily across his stomach as if to draw Jungkook’s eyes there. “You’re really such a mess for this, huh…” He said, almost breathless, like it was taking effort now to force them out.
Jungkook whimpered loudly at the thought, pumping himself harder now, lashes down like he was on the verge of tears. Every word, every sound from Taehyung fed directly into the fire building in his belly.
“Look at youu…” Taehyung teased, voice dripping with a mockery and fascination that he knew his baby loved. “You really, really meant it. You’re really gonna cum just from me burping in your face like this? Unreal.”
“Please,” Jungkook begged, barely coherent. His thighs quivered, his hips stuttered helplessly into his fist. “Please, Tae—I can’t—”
Taehyung nodded softly. “Go ahead. Cum for me, baby.”
Jungkook let out a strangled cry, collapsing forward as his whole body jerked with release. Hot spurts soaked the inside of his sweats as he gasped and whined, his other hand gripping desperately at the couch cushion. His head dropped forward, bangs sticking to his damp forehead, as a long, broken sigh fell from his lips.
He was ruined. It felt so, so fucking good.
Taehyung just sat back, eyes wide, a stunned laugh bubbling out of him. “Holy shit. Yeah. You weren’t lying one bit. Like… damn.”
Jungkook made a little noise in response. There was no denying it. Taehyung just saw it for himself. There was a wild, undeniable relief in it too.
Taehyung's expression had softened, the sharp teasing melting down into something fond. With a hum, he reached out and guided Jungkook to cuddle with him and lay on his chest, then proceeded to rub slow circles between Jungkook’s shoulder blades.
“You really went through it just now, huh, baby?” he murmured, his voice low and gentle. “Sorry for making you wait.”
Jungkook whined quietly at the words, embarrassed but too tired to pull away. Instead, he burrowed closer, hiding his face against Taehyung’s chest like a child seeking comfort. His body was still trembling faintly. Taehyung responded by sliding his fingers into Jungkook’s hair, combing through his head in a soothing rhythm.
“You did so good, though.” Taehyung whispered. “Still my baby, no matter what weird things you’re into.”
That made Jungkook let out a broken laugh against Tae’s chest as he shifted again. He still felt like this was a fever dream, but no, it’s all real. Tae now knows. It’s as comforting as it is embarrassing.
Taehyung’s hand kept rubbing Jungkook’s back slowly. After a while though, he tilted his head, thinking of trying something else. He shifted his palm into firmer pats, a steady rhythm between Jungkook’s shoulder blades, like he was coaxing something out.
“You drank a lot tonight, too.” Taehyung mused, a grin tugging at his lips. “I know you’ve got something in you. Cooome on, baby, don’t hold out on me now.”
Jungkook groaned, already red-faced, but the gentle pats combined with the comfort of being pressed so close to Taehyung’s chest did its work. A deep burp rattled free against Taehyung’s shirt as his body gave in, making him jolt in embarrassment.
Taehyung’s chest shook with laughter. “There it is!”
Another burp came when Taehyung kept patting, and Jungkook, mortified, just buried his face harder into Tae’s chest. He normally wasn't embarrassed by his own burps, not at all, but it was just the context of the situation that made him want to die.
Taehyung couldn’t stop laughing as he held the boy. Not cruelly, but with genuine endearment at the way his baby reacted. He had to admit, it was pretty cute to watch.
“Never gonna be as good as mine,” he teased lightly, brushing his fingers through Jungkook’s hair again. “But oh well.”
Jungkook let out a tiny laugh of his own, muffled into Taehyung’s shirt, “Nope…”
Taehyung’s grin softened, his hand resuming its slow, soothing strokes along Jungkook’s back. “That’s fine. You’ve got other talents.”
Jungkook finally peeked up at him, eyes half-lidded but shining, his cheeks still pink. Taehyung pressed a kiss to his damp hairline, then tugged him closer until Jungkook was practically draped across his chest, boneless and comfortable.
The room was quiet now, except for their slowed breathing, and the occasional little laugh that slipped from Taehyung when Jungkook twitched at his teasing pats. The sharpness of earlier had dissolved completely into warmth, an easy affection that wrapped around them both like a blanket.
For all the chaos of what just happened, Jungkook felt safe here. Yes, he just absolutely milked himself dry from that, but he still felt deeply calmed… because no matter how much Taehyung teased, he always ended it like this, grounding him, which reassured him that he was still loved.
And Taehyung, stroking a hand down Jungkook’s spine one last time, thought privately to himself: what a strange little thing to discover about his baby.
S/tar W/ars Snz Fic: P/admé (F) has a sneezy cold and A/nakin (M) takes care of her and discovers something new. NSFW! (Minors DNI)
Kink headcanon based off this red/dit post I saw once about this guy who had just gotten married and was super head over heels in love with his wife, and just started developing fetishes for different parts of her body. You don't really need to know anything about s/tar wars for this tbh!
"Here, this will keep you warm." Anakin wrapped a blanket around Padme's shoulders. His poor wife had come down with a miserable cold. She'd nearly collapsed into his arms when she got home and sneezed harsher than he'd ever heard.
Padme blinked as she watched Anakin make her tea. Ugh her head felt so fuzzy after the long and disappointing day she'd had at the Senate. Her throat still hurt since she'd woken up and her nose was running nonstop. And now of course "hehh hehhdktchieww!" She sneezed into the blanket covering her arms.
"Bless you." Anakin placed the tea in front of her and gently rubbed her back. She reached to pick up the mug but put it right back down as she immediately felt another sneeze overtake her "HEHTGXSHOO" she sniffled and rubbed her eyes.
The tea helped her throat a little, but it was hard to drink while constantly swiping at her runny nose. After she finished her tea the two started making their way to the bedroom. Padme's breath caught and she held into Anakin's arm to steady herself.
"Hihhh HAHHTCHOO!"
"Bless you" Anakin said in concern. His poor angel couldnt even make it down the hallway! She still had her eyes closed and the back of her hand pressed under her nose. Anakin was sure she wasn't done, so he scooped her into his arms bridal style before-
"HUHHTGXCHOO!"
The sneeze was uncharacteristically harsh, she hadn't moved her hand from where she had pressed it to her nose. It was starting to leak out, but trying to keep it contained only meant the liquid could slosh around inside her nose. This tickled the insides of her sensitive nostrils terribly.
"HHHNGXTSHH.. HHNGGT.. NNNNXTCHSHHH"
She pressed her hand harder to her nose with each sneeze, which were sounding less and less like normal sneezes with each occurrence.
Looking at her red scrunched nose it was clear to Anakin trying to suppress them was only making it worse.
"Padme, please stop" he sat her down on the bed and gently pulled her hand away from her face. The back of her hand was now covered in snot, even starting to run down her arm. She barely seemed to notice and she gasped and nearly sobbed into a final huge messy sneeze.
"Hehhhhhh hAhhh HEHHHHYATSTCSHOOOO!" She snapped forward and sprayed down onto herself, covering her dress and part of his arm.
Anakin froze in place, stunned by the display. He had never seen his beautiful Padmé come so undone. It was kind of, well-- hot. He'd only heard her make sounds like that in bed, in the heat of the moment.
Padme whimpered out a small "excuse me" with a weak, unproductive sniffle that snapped Anakin back to reality. No time to dwell on that, your angel needs you!
"Bless you, my love" Anakin said empathetically as he floated a whole box of tissues from the side table over to them. Just like she always did for him, Anakin pulled out a few tissues and started to gently wipe the tears from her eyes and her cheeks, then cleaned the mess from her nose, lips and chin and held it for her to blow. She coughed weakly as he took her hand in his and finished cleaning up her arm.
Padmé would have been completely mortified had this been anyone else in the galaxy. But after the long day she'd had, it felt so good to be cared for by her husband. She leaned into his touch and nuzzled back into his chest once he was done.
After a moment and another weak sniffle she asked "Can you get mby nightgown?"
"Of course." Anakin got up and went to her closet. He looked at her expansive selection of sleepwear and chose a simple blue gown that looked like it would be the warmest. He brought it back to her and helped unzip her formal Senate dress as he got into his own soft black pajamas. She pulled the nightgown over her head and sat back down to take off her tights the rest of the way off.
Anakin kneeled in front of her and took over the task. There was something that always felt right about kneeling for her, like a knight at her service. He pulled the tights down off her legs and began gently massaging her feet. He knew how sore her fancy heels could make them. Padme hummed in contentment and leaned back on her arms.
A moment later Anakin heard a breathy "ohh no" and looked up to see Padmé with her lips parted, her nostrils flaring and eyes unfocused. Then he noticed she was starting to bring her hand up to her face. 'Oh no' was right! He didn't want to see her get stuck again like earlier.
He quickly grabbed both her hands and held them in his. Confusion managed to shine through her sneezy facial expression. "Let it out, Padmé. It will feel better."
"hihh- hhehhtchshiewww!"
She sneezed off to the side. Although it wasn't as harsh as earlier, the sneeze still left her with a small droplet at the tip of her nose.
Anakin froze for the second time tonight, now transfixed by her pretty red nose. He loved her, loved her so much, every single inch of her. He couldn't help staring at her nostrils and little crease between them leading up where the droplet was resting.
"You are so beautiful." He blurted out without thinking.
She laughed, a little hoarsely. "What?" Padmé saw the sincerity in Anakin's face and she knew he wasn't joking. He had a tendency to fixate on unusual parts of her body. This had happened with her feet, her ears, her armpits. It never bothered her and she was happy to indulge him. It seemed this cold was awakening a new fixation.
His face was closer to hers now and he was staring at her intensely. "You are." Their foreheads touched and Padme sniffled "careful Ani, you'll be miserable with my cold."
"I don't care-" he pressed his lips to hers and kissed deeply. He could feel the dampness of her nose against his cheek and shuddered. Padme broke the kiss, a little sooner than they'd both have liked, so she could catch her breath.
Her little nose is so stuffed she can't even breathe through it. Anakin kissed the bridge of her nose and then her forehead. He felt her brow start to crinkle under his lips.
"Oh uhh.. hehhh"
Padme was taking in a shaky breath and her features were crumpling. Anakin sat back on his knees and continued to watch, drinking in the view. Her nostrils were flaring and almost pulsating, with a shine of wetness just around the edge. He desperately wanted to kiss them.
"Hihhdtchshieww!"
She sneezed onto his shoulder. Before he could process this Padme was hitching and ducking down again.
"hAH.. haeeh'hhshooo!"
The spray misted his shoulder. Anakin was surprised by how gentle it felt, wet with her breath behind it. And how he could hear her voice in it and all her little breaths right by his ear. Oh the affect this was having on him. He could feel the heat in his cheeks... and in the lower part of his body.
"B-bless you" although he truthfully felt he was the one being blessed by his beautiful angel and her sneezy little cold.
Padme sniffled and glanced down. The bulge in his pajama pants confirmed her theory from earlier. She would have some fun with this cold after all.
She took his face in her hands. "You like this, don't you?" She started kissing his cheeks up to his ear, leaving a small wet spot from her nose after each kiss. She nuzzled into his ear and he moaned.
"I really do, Padme" he shuddered hearing her sniffle against him. "I want your cold, I want to feel it-you inside me. Please."
He was becoming desperate, practically humping her legs now, his eyes full of need. These fixations could drive him crazy.
How could she deny such a request? Of course she would give him her cold. She kissed him again, not bothering with the wetness dripping onto her upper lip. When the kiss broke he started rubbing their noses together, one hand on the back of her neck. It didn't take long before his nose was as wet and dripping as hers. He pulled back slightly, exposing a thread of snot connecting their noses and sniffed hard. Padme could almost feel it being suctioned out.
Anakin tilted his head back and smiled smugly. "I can't believe you just did that." Padme laughed, which turned into a few coughs. He kissed her again and this time she leaned back onto the bed, guiding him on top of her.
He slinked his arm underneath her and lifted her so she was resting against the pillows. He wrapped a blanket around the two of them, making sure his angel was warm and comfortable.
Anakin could feel her nose pressed against his face with every kiss. He nuzzled his nose against hers and felt her warm breath on his skin. His hand traced along the curve of her breasts and then moved down between her legs. Padme gasped and moaned as he began his ministrations. He tilted his head up and kissed the tip of her nose, then her nostrils and septum, taking in the delicate feel of them through his lips.
"Your nose is so perfect." He kissed it again before trailing kisses down her neck. How had he never noticed this before?
Padme giggled and twitched her nose. "I don't know, its kind of ih-itchy."
Anakins eyes snapped back towards her face to see her hazy expression. "Are you going to..." sneeze? What? He couldn't even say it, as though it were some kind of perversion.
Padme filled in the blanks for him. "Hihh-ehhhtshieww!" She sniffed and smiled down at him as he blushed and murmured "Bless you" into kisses along her collar.
Padme shuddered and moaned into his touch, her hips bucking at his fingers. With a sly smile Anakin turned his mechano-arm to the vibrate setting he had engineered. Padme gasped and clung to him in pleasure until she came, the tremors shaking through her body.
She then put her hand around his hardened member and guided him inside her. Anakin thrust his hips and soon fell into a steady rhythm.
This cold was making Padme so stuffy and itchy, sneezing actually provided some short relief in congestion. Between that and the newfound affect it had on Anakin, maybe it wasn't so bad. She twitched her nose, she desperately wanted to sneeze now, with Anakin inside of her.
"Ahhhh" She gasped, flaring her nostrils, trying to will a sneeze into action. She tilted her head back "ahhhhchoo" she breathed out. It wasnt a real sneeze, but she'd fake it till she made it. She lifted her index finger and rubbed back and forth under her nose. "Ahhhhchoo" her real runny nose was dripping onto her finger, she kept the tickly snot trapped inside her nostrils. The more she rubbed the more it tickled. Her brow furrowed and breath shook, but she tried to fake sneeze until- ahhh until- ahhhhhaeehhsshoooo! Uhh huhh haahhhshhieww!
Anakin was practically salivating watching her performance, and the way he could feel her tense up- "kriff Padme, im getting close."
Padme still had her finger under her nose, although it was drenched now. She sniffed, well snorted, and gasped into the grand finale.
"HAHHTKGSHEWW!"
This immediately sent Anakin over the edge, coming hard into her, whimpering when he was done.
...
Soft sunlight streamed in through the windows the next morning. Padme was startled awake by Anakin's loud sneeze next to her. Judging by his sleepy eyes and confused expression, it had woken him up too. Padme watched as he rubbed his eyes and sneezed again "hhuhhhd'shieww!"
She smiled and reached over to rub his shoulder. "Bless you." She winced at the sound of her congested crackly voice.
Anakin smiled back "Good mborning". He sniffled and pulled her into his arms.
"Sounds like you got what you wanted." Anakin hummed in contentment, possibly falling back asleep. There was still time before they had to get up.
