#also never found out if that was deliberate or accidental

[the-travelling-witch]

SPEAKING OF ‘WHATEVER’ i love the new Scara stickers, they were made for u Holly! Ur MODREN au is speaking (please Tell is one day she’ll come back home)

BUT!! To this day whatever.. and a certain Scara smut Fic u Wrote. What who said that? Is my absolute favorite, not only writing wise but how u portray(srs the best I’ve ever seen!! U and a writer called Zoro!! I love u both dearly also u both like twisted wonderland u should be pals!!) my beloved Scara

ACTUALLY THIS IS MY REMINDER TO RE READ THEM TOMORROW!!!

he’s so cute in all his stickers, i’m picking him up and swinging him around jsjsjhs but i’m glad to hear the modern au is still sitting in people’s hearts and minds despite me being so inactive writing wise

as for a comeback, we’ll have to wait for when i get back into writing and don’t feel like jumping out of a window anymore. unfortunately i don’t know that writer but i also don’t think it’s too unusual for people to play both genshin and twst tbh

and ahhh thank you so much for saying you like my characterisation, that’s so important to me :]

[bbdeongi]

Do you do requests? If so may I have a Yeosang x Reader smut?

YOU’RE MINE NOW

☆PAIRING: fathers friend! Yeosang x fem! Reader

☆GENRE: smut, fluff a the end

☆WARNINGS: age gap (7 years), fathers friend, degration, praise, pet names, jerking off, riding, ext.

☆SUMMARY: Yeosang is your fathers friend and obviously he knows you. You do have a little crush on him aswell.. (There isnt a big age gap. Your 19 and he is 26) but basically your dad has to go on a week business trip (since he is a mafia) and makes you stay at yeosangs house even tho you insist you could take carr of yourself.. and yeosang as a mansion tho hes single.. but a few days after staying there, one night you walk in to his bedroom and accidentally caught him in an act..

☆A/N: YOU ASKED AND YOU SHAKL RECEIVE!! Also i type fast.. so i apologize for any misspelling

You sighed as you tossed your bag onto the guest bed, the soft thud echoing in the spacious room. The sheer size of Yeosang’s mansion always felt intimidating, no matter how many times you visited. But this time, it wasn’t just a casual drop-in or family dinner. This time, you were staying for an entire week.

Your father had been firm—he didn’t want you alone while he was away on business, especially given the nature of his work. “It’s not safe,” he’d said before you could even argue. And despite your insistence that you were 19, perfectly capable of handling yourself, he sent you here.

To Yeosang.

Your father’s closest friend, his most trusted confidant, and the man you’d secretly had a ridiculous crush on for years. It didn’t help that Yeosang was only seven years older than you, making it far too easy to notice his quiet charm, sharp jawline, and the way his dark eyes seemed to hold secrets he’d never tell.

He greeted you at the door that first evening, his calm demeanor and soft smile doing little to ease the nervous flutter in your chest. “Make yourself at home,” he’d said simply, his tone polite but distant, as always.

The first few days passed without incident. Yeosang gave you your space, checking in only to ask if you needed anything or to quietly share meals with you in the grand dining room. He was polite, almost overly so, keeping his usual reserved demeanor firmly in place. But the longer you stayed, the more restless you felt.

The house was too quiet, the rain outside only amplifying the stillness. By the fourth evening, you found yourself wandering the halls, your feet carrying you to places you hadn’t explored before.

That’s when you ended up outside Yeosang’s bedroom.

The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out into the dim hallway. You hesitated, unsure if you should knock or simply leave. But curiosity got the better of you. Without thinking, you pushed the door open.

“Yeosang, I need your hel—”

The words died in your throat.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head tipped back, the soft glow of the bedside lamp highlighting his bare shoulders and chest. His dark brown hair was slightly damp, as if he’d just showered, and his lips were parted as soft breaths escaped him.

Your eyes traveled downward before you could stop yourself. His hand was wrapped around himself, his movements slow but deliberate as he pumped his cock. Heat rushed to your face as you took in the sight, but it wasn’t until you heard your name—whispered in a low, breathy moan—that your heart stopped. “Y/N… oh fuck~”

Your gasp broke the silence. His eyes snapped open, wide with shock as his hand stilled. For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension in the room thick and suffocating.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice hoarse, his gaze locked on yours. Panic flashed across his face as he grabbed the nearest throw blanket, hastily covering himself. “W- what are you doing here?”

“I—” You stammered, unable to form a coherent thought. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Get out,” he said quickly, his tone sharp and commanding, though the flush on his face betrayed his composure.

But you couldn’t move. Your legs felt rooted to the floor, your mind racing as the image of what you’d just seen replayed in your head. “You—”

“Don’t,” he cut in, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. His dark eyes met yours, a mix of frustration and something else lingering in his gaze.

“I heard you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He froze, his jaw tightening as the realization settled between you. “Y/N,” he said again, this time softer, almost pleading.

The silence that followed was deafening. You should’ve turned and left, but instead, you took a hesitant step forward.

You stepped further into the room, your pulse hammering in your ears as the tension between you both became almost unbearable. Yeosang’s gaze followed you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the blanket he had hastily thrown over himself.

“Sh- shit…” he started, but his voice faltered.

“What were you doing?” you asked, your voice trembling as you took another cautious step forward.

His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, his eyes darted away, focusing on anything but you as his face burned crimson. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until you broke it.

“You were saying my name,” you said quietly, your voice wavering as you forced the words out.

Yeosang’s head snapped up, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a mix of panic and vulnerability. He opened his mouth, but no sound came, leaving him completely speechless.

“Do you… like me?” The question fell from your lips before you could stop it, the weight of it hanging in the air between you.

His fingers tightened around the blanket, and his gaze dropped to the floor. He didn’t answer, but the slight twitch of his jaw and the redness creeping down his neck told you everything you needed to know.

“Yeosang,” you pressed, your voice firmer now as you stepped even closer. “Do. You. Like. Me?”

His shoulders tensed, his body stiffening as if bracing for impact. Slowly, painfully slowly, he nodded, his head barely moving. “Fuck.. Yes..”

Your breath caught, your heart pounding as a rush of emotions swept over you. “I like you too,” you admitted, the words spilling out before your courage faltered.

Yeosang’s head shot up, his eyes widening as he stared at you in disbelief. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of your mutual confessions settling over the room.

Then something shifted in him.

The vulnerability in his eyes darkened, replaced by something more intense, more primal. His grip on the blanket loosened as he rose to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate. You took a step back instinctively, but he closed the distance between you in two strides.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice lower now, filled with an edge you’d never heard before. His hands reached out, gripping your shoulders gently but firmly, his dark eyes searching yours. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“I do,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the way your body trembled under his touch.

“Im your fathers friend… Im older than you—” you then cut him off once more. “7 years. Plus, im age of consent. I like you, Mr. Kang”

That was all it took.

Yeosang’s hands slid down to your waist, his grip tightening as he guided you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. With a firm yet gentle push, he had you seated, his towering presence looming over you as he stepped between your legs.

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as his fingers brushed against your cheek. “Hearing you say my name… thinking about you… wanting you…”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could respond, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back, deepening the kiss until you were breathless.

Your hands found his bare chest, your fingers splaying against his warm skin as you tried to steady yourself. His muscles tensed under your touch, his sharp intake of breath making your heart race.

Yeosang pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made your stomach flip. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice firm and possessive. “Screw your father…”

Before you could respond, he was guiding you further onto the bed, his movements controlled but urgent. You found yourself lying back against the soft pillows, Yeosang hovering over you as his hands trailed down your sides. His touch was both gentle and commanding, sending sparks of heat through your body with every movement.

Yeosang hovered over you, his palms planted on either side of your head as his intense gaze locked onto yours. His platinum hair framed his sharp features, and the warmth of his bare chest so close to your skin made your breath hitch. For a moment, he simply stared, as if trying to process everything that had just happened.

“How long?” he finally asked, his voice low and laced with curiosity.

You blinked up at him, your lips parting slightly. “How long what?”

“How long have you liked me?” he clarified, his expression softening just enough to make your heart ache.

You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning under his scrutiny. But there was no point in hiding it now. “Ever since I laid eyes on you,” you admitted, your voice quiet but steady.

His cock twitched, so hard and throbbing, but his eyes darkened, a mix of desire and something deeper flickering in his gaze. “You’ve been keeping this from me all this time?”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against the strands of his hair. “What was I supposed to say? That I have feelings for my father’s best friend? That I think about you fucking me?”

His jaw clenched, and his gaze flickered over your face, searching for something. “Your father—”

“Fuck him,” you cut him off, your voice firm. “I don’t care what my father thinks. I don’t care if he finds out. I need this. I need you.”

The raw honesty in your words made him falter. His breath hitched as he stared down at you, his features a mixture of disbelief and longing. “God you’re so fucking perfect, love…” he murmured, his voice soft yet heavy with meaning.

“I’ll be your good girl,” you replied without hesitation, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I love you, Yeosang. I’ve loved you for so long, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t…”

Something inside him seemed to snap. His lips crashed against yours in a kiss so heated, so consuming, that it left you breathless. His hands roamed down your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You responded eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

The kiss deepened, becoming messier, more desperate, as Yeosang pressed his body against yours. His fingers found the hem of your dress, and he pulled back just enough to look at you. “This dress,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. “It’s been driving me crazy all night.”

You smirked, your fingers trailing along his jawline. “Then take it off daddy~”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands gripped the fabric, sliding it up and over your head in one swift motion. The cool air of the room hit your skin, but the warmth of Yeosang’s gaze made you forget everything else.

His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you, completely bare beneath the tiny black dress. His breath caught, and his hands froze mid-motion, his dark eyes meeting yours with a mix of surprise and heat. Your tits were the perfect size. So plump and round. Your nipples already hardened and your pussy was soaked..

“You’re not wearing anything,” he said, his voice low and rough.

“Not a thing,” you replied with a small smile, your heart pounding in anticipation.

Yeosang exhaled sharply, his control visibly slipping as his gaze roamed over you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice tinged with both frustration and awe. “God, look at your pretty pussy..”

He leaned down, capturing your lips again as his hands explored every inch of your body, the intensity between you two reaching an entirely new level. The weight of his body, the heat of his skin, and the way he murmured your name against your lips made your head spin.

Yeosang’s lips moved down your neck, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses that made your entire body tingle. His hands explored your sides with a reverence that made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, his voice raw with emotion. His lips found the hollow of your throat, pausing there as his fingers intertwined with yours, pressing your hands into the plush mattress beneath you.

Your heart raced as his body pressed against yours, the warmth of his skin making your head spin. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the careful restraint as he held himself back, as though he was giving you one last moment to stop this if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

“Sanige~” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head to meet his gaze. His dark eyes bore into yours, filled with a mix of tenderness and desire that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yes, sweetheart? ” he asked softly, his thumb brushing against your knuckles as he held your hands in his.

“I want this,” you said, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I need you to fuck me.. please?”

A low groan escaped him at your words, his forehead resting against yours as he closed his eyes for a moment. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted, his voice thick with longing. “How long Ive been waiting to fucking claim you .. your stupid father has always been in the way.” Your tiny moans where heard as he said that.

You leaned up, capturing his lips in a kiss that was soft but urgent, your hands slipping free from his grasp to trail up his arms and into his hair. His platinum strands were silky under your fingers, and you tugged lightly, earning a deep, guttural sound from him that sent heat pooling in your stomach.

Yeosang shifted, his weight pressing into you more fully as he adjusted his position, one hand sliding under your thigh to guide you closer. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, the sheer vulnerability between you both making every touch and movement feel electric.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as he spoke.

“I won’t,” you replied, your voice trembling but confident.

His hand slid down, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path along your skin. He moved with a mix of patience and urgency, his touch igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t contain.

He leaned down again, his lips finding yours as the two of you melted into each other. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sound of your breaths mingling, the rain tapping softly against the window, and the feeling of his body against yours.

“gonna fuck you so good, princess..” He slammed his cock inside of your dripping cunt, earning a loud and lewd noise from you. He moaned as you clenched around him. He was so big and girthy, and you were tight.. “Baby… I could just cum right here..”

He started to thrust faster into your hole, making you grip his shoulders and scream.. he was bigger then you thought. “O- oh- fuck!”

Yeosang’s grip on your hand tightened as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. The slow, deliberate rhythm he’d set began to shift, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding.

“You feel so fucking good, baby..” he murmured, his voice rough and laced with emotion. His free hand slid down your side, his touch firm yet tender as he adjusted his position, his cock hitting your cervix, pressing even closer to you .

Your fingers clung to his shoulders, your nails digging slightly into his skin as your breaths came faster, your body responding to his every movement. The softness in his gaze earlier had been replaced by something deeper, something raw and untamed.

“Yeosang!,” you gasped, his name escaping your lips as he began to quicken his pace, his movements sending waves of heat coursing through your body. His balls slapped against your ass as he threw his head back.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes smoldering as his hand cupped your cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice low and rough, each word punctuated by a deliberate thrust that left you breathless.

You couldn’t respond, the intensity of his gaze and the feeling of him overwhelming every thought in your mind. Your hands slid up to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss as his cock pounded into you.

The kiss was messy, desperate, a reflection of the growing urgency between you. Yeosang’s control seemed to slip further with every passing moment, his movements becoming rougher, his grip on your hip firm as he guided your body in perfect rhythm with his.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “No one else can have you.”

“Only yours,” you managed to reply, your voice trembling as your nails scraped lightly down his back, earning a deep, guttural sound from him that sent a shiver through your entire body.

The sound of the rain outside faded into the background, replaced by the rhythm of your breaths and the occasional soft gasps and moans that escaped you both. The bed creaked beneath you, the room filled with the heat and intensity of your connection as Yeosang pushed you further and further toward the edge.

His hand left your cheek, sliding down to grip your thigh and hitch it higher around his waist, allowing him to press even closer. The new angle sent a shockwave through you, your head falling back against the pillows as a cry escaped your lips.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly, his voice deep and filled with emotion.

“I said look at me, whore.”

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze as he leaned down, his forehead pressing against yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your breaths mingling.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion as you held onto him tightly, your body arching into his with every movement.

you suddenly flipped him over, to where he was lying against the headboard and you were ontop of him, sinking back on his cock. You whined as it hit much more deeper this way, and Yeosang jusr bit his lip and moaned.

You started to bounce up and down on his cock, uour tits jumping with you. You were putting s show on for him.. your eyes rolling back along with your head. “Daddy…”

Yeosang bit his lip and grabbed your ass, helping you pick up the pace as he pounded into you. “Sweetie… taking d- daddys cock like a good slut..” Tears started to swell up in your eyes and that just made the man smirk.

“Is my little slut crying? Huh?”

“such a good little girl..”

“fuck.. take it, whore”

He was so sweet to you in general, but in bed he was not.. well he was, making sure you were okay, but he was mostly rough.

————————-

You cried as he put you on all fours.. it had been an hour and he wouldnt let you cum once. You gripped the sheets and couldn’t help but drool. You were sure you would be so sore in the morning..

“Be quiet, we don't want my guards to hear you being a slut, now do we?” He slapped your cunt once more, leaving another hickey on your back.

“d- daddy.. I- i really need to cum..”

You couldn't hold it anymore. You said that for the past hour, but now.. you really couldn't.. you didn't realize how much stamina this man had.. but he was close now as-well

The pace between you had become frantic, the intensity of the moment driving you both closer and closer to the edge. Yeosang’s breaths were ragged, his forehead pressed against yours as he moved with an urgency that made your whole body tremble.

“S- sangie,” you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders as the heat inside you built to an unbearable peak.

He groaned deeply, his jaw clenched as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin with every labored breath. “I’m close,” he murmured, his voice low and strained.

You felt the tension in his body, the way his movements grew erratic, as though he were holding back just for you. The realization sent a rush of warmth through you, and you arched into him, your own release dangerously close.

“Where—” he started, his voice breaking as he fought to speak. “Where do you want me?”

His question sent a thrill through you, and you tilted your head back, your lips parting as you whispered, “In me. I want all of you.”

Yeosang froze for a fraction of a second, his body trembling as your words registered. His head lifted, his dark, heated gaze locking onto yours, searching for any hesitation. When he found none, he groaned deeply, his hand gripping your hip tightly as he leaned down to capture your lips in a desperate, heated kiss.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice strained, the restraint in his tone making your heart ache.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer. “I want all of you, Yeosang.”

He let out a shaky breath, his lips brushing against yours as he began to move again, his pace rough and desperate as he chased both of your releases. The feeling of him, the sound of his breath mixing with yours, and the sheer intensity of the moment sent you hurtling over the edge.

You didn’t know you were able to, but you squirted all kver his dick.. moaning loud. His white seed spurted into your tight cunt, slowly dripping out of you. He moaned at the sight as he slowly thrusted in and out of you, eventually pulling out.

“god.. that was.. fucking amazing.. youre perfect Y/N..”

—————————

The warm water lapped gently at your skin, soothing the soreness from earlier as you lay nestled against Yeosang’s chest. His arms wrapped around you securely, his touch tender as he held you close. Despite the intensity of what had happened between you just minutes ago, his demeanor now was the complete opposite. He was gentle, careful, treating you as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

“You okay, love?” Yeosang’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as his lips brushed against the top of your head. His fingers trailed through the water to find your hand, lacing them together as he waited for your response.

“I’m okay,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You shifted slightly in his arms, leaning back to meet his gaze. The concern etched into his features made your chest ache, and you smiled softly to reassure him.

“You sure?” he pressed, his free hand coming up to brush damp strands of hair away from your face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart swell, and you shook your head quickly. “No, Yeosang. You didn’t hurt me,” you assured him. “You were... perfect.”

His lips twitched upward into a small smile, relief washing over his expression. “Good,” he said simply, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “But if anything hurts, or if you feel anything later, you have to tell me, okay? No hiding it.”

You nodded, letting your head rest against his chest again as the warm water cradled you both. His hands moved slowly, gently running a soapy cloth over your arms and shoulders, his movements unhurried and deliberate.

Yeosang hummed softly, the deep timbre of his voice vibrating through you as he continued his careful ministrations. It felt so intimate, so tender, that you felt your throat tighten with emotion. He washed you with a level of care that made you feel truly cherished, his lips occasionally grazing your temple or your cheek as he worked.

The silence between you was comfortable, broken only by the soft sound of water splashing as he bathed you. But as the minutes stretched on, an unspoken question lingered in the back of your mind, one you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Yeosang,” you began hesitantly, your voice barely audible over the gentle rippling of the water.

“Hmm?” he responded, his hand pausing as he tilted his head down to look at you.

You turned slightly in his arms, your gaze meeting his. “What... what are we?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, and you felt your cheeks heat as uncertainty crept into your chest. What if this was just a one-time thing? What if it didn’t mean as much to him as it did to you?

But then, Yeosang’s lips curled into a slow, confident smirk, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “You’re my pretty girlfriend,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Your breath hitched, his words settling over you like a warm blanket. “Your girlfriend?” you repeated, as if needing to hear it again to believe it.

He nodded, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Mine,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and possessive. “And I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

The kiss deepened for a moment before he pulled back, his gaze softening as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. “You’re mine now, Y/N. No one else gets to have you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, a shaky laugh escaping you. “I’m yours,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

Yeosang’s smile faltered slightly as he noticed the way your shoulders tensed, and he tilted his head in concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, his hand moving to rest on your back.

You hesitated, biting your lip before speaking. “It’s just... what if my dad finds out? What would he say? What would he do?”

Yeosang’s expression darkened slightly, his jaw clenching as his arms tightened around you protectively. But before he could respond, you shook your head and let out a soft, bitter laugh.

“Actually, I don’t care,” you said, surprising even yourself with the conviction in your tone. “I don’t give a fuck what he thinks. I’ve spent my whole life doing what he wants, being who he expects me to be. For once, I want to do something for myself.”

Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke, and Yeosang’s expression softened. He reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb before pulling you closer.

“You don’t have to worry about him,” he said firmly, his voice steady and sure. “You’re mine now. I’ll protect you, no matter what. Your father won’t lay a finger on you as long as I’m here.”

His words were like a balm to your frayed nerves, and you let out a shaky breath as you leaned into him. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” he said without hesitation, his tone resolute. “I love you, Y/N. And nothing—not your father, not anyone—will ever change that.”

Tears spilled over, but this time they weren’t out of fear or worry. They were tears of relief, of gratitude, of love. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace as the water sloshed gently around you.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

Yeosang held you like you were the most precious thing in the world, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. “Always.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms as the warmth of the water and the comfort of his presence eased every lingering doubt. Yeosang continued to bathe you, his touch gentle and attentive as he whispered soft reassurances in your ear.

When the water began to cool, he lifted you effortlessly from the tub, wrapping you in a soft towel before carrying you back to the bed. He dried you off with the same care he’d shown in the bath, his hands never leaving your skin as he made sure you were comfortable and warm.

As you lay in his arms that night, your head resting against his chest, you realized that for the first time in a long time, you felt truly at peace. Yeosang was yours, and you were his. And no matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew you would face them together. He then mumbled something…

“You’re now mine.”

[count-on-mi]

Mommy's little boy Part 3 (Jeongyeon)

A/N: I am really sorry that I am suffering from the heavy workload for my job so I don't even have any mood or time to write, so just upload an draft that was ready for so long, and my first Jeongyeon smut.

My mum, Jeongyeon usually looks noble and elegant, like a lady, I accidentally discovered a little secret she hides - she is particularly interested in using handcuffs during sex.

One time I went to her bedroom to look for something and found a brand-new pair of leather handcuffs hidden in a box under the bed. At the time, I thought it was Jeongyeon’s collection. After all, she is the kind of girl who likes to collect small objects. Later, I discovered several pieces of sexy underwear and stockings in the handcuffs' packaging bag, and then I realized that these might not be just "collectables."

Sure enough, I eavesdropped on several phone conversations between her and her friends, and I heard Jeongyeon complaining that my dad had never tried to discipline her with handcuffs, saying how much she longed to be tied up and ravaged, to experience that sense of futility, helpful and stimulating feeling.

It turns out that Jeongyeon, who looks noble on the outside, also has perverted desires in her heart, which gave me a new understanding of her and an interest in her. Whenever I see such a twisted mind hidden under her noble and elegant appearance, I get so excited that I want to immediately hold her down and punish her so that she can know what true happiness is.

One evening, I walked in while Jeongyeon was practicing pole dancing in her exclusive practice room. At that time, Jeongyeon was only wearing a tight dance suit, with her slender legs exposed and her breasts swaying slightly due to the intense exercise. I deliberately interrupted her practice and went up to chat with her.

"Mom, your pole dancing is getting better and better! I really want to know what would happen if you were tied up there?" I said with a smirk.

"Oh! Don't make such a joke!" Jeongyeon scolded me with a red face. I knew this little stimulation was enough to arouse her arousal.

"If Mom really likes handcuffs so much, why not try it today?" I took out the handcuffs I had prepared and waved them in front of her.

"My son…what do you want to do…" Jeongyeon's voice was trembling, and I knew she was already a little emotional.

"I want to give Mom a little surprise." I approached her, easily wrapped my arms around her waist, and pressed her against the steel pipe.

"Ah…My son…don't…" Jeongyeon's tone has softened, and I know that she has completely surrendered to her desires.

I clasped her hands together behind her back, and then slowly took off her dance clothes until she was completely naked before my eyes.

Jeongyeon's body was flawless, and her snow-white skin reflected a soft light in the dim training room. I stretched out the tip of my tongue to lick the two bright red spots on her chest. I kneaded her elastic buttocks with one hand and probed into her private parts with the other hand. I easily found the hidden flower core and drew circles around it to tease.

"Um… My son… no…" Jeongyeon's body trembled slightly, and the corners of her eyes were filled with confusion. She tried hard not to scream, but every time my fingers brushed the sensitive flesh The core caused her to let out a low moan.

I held the cock that was already ready for battle, rubbed it against the entrance of her flower hole, and then pushed forward with all my strength. "Ah…it's too big…My son…" Jeongyeon finally couldn't help but scream out. She arched her back to bear my fierce attack, and honey juice continued to flow out from the place where the two of them met.

"Mom, you're so tight down there. I've long wanted to fuck you until you lose consciousness." I leaned down and bit her ear, gasping while thrusting vigorously.

"Ah… My son… slow down… I want to be fucked by you…" Jeongyeon's reason has been swallowed up by desire. She twisted her waist to meet my movements, craving like a complete bitch. More.

I hit the deepest part of her hard, each stroke bringing us huge pleasure. Jeongyeon was moaning loudly after being fucked by me. Her whole body was covered with a thin layer of sweat, making her look extremely sexy and sultry.

"Scream louder! I just love hearing my mother scream!" I grabbed her hair and pulled it back, forcing her to look up at me.

Jeongyeon's expression is both painful and happy, and her wet eyes make me feel pity for her, but I can't help but want to destroy her last shred of self-esteem.

"Mom, do you think this is too perverted? You are my mother, but you are doing this kind of thing with me…" I deliberately slowed down and changed to slow friction. Every time I pressed against the most sensitive part, on one point.

"Ah…don't…stop…My son…continue…" Jeongyeon's mind was already in confusion. She shook her head randomly, unable to understand what I was saying.

I quickened the pace again and took all of her wildly. "Mom, do you know who you are having sex with? It's me, your son!" I laughed maliciously, and every time I penetrated her deeper, she moaned louder.

"Oh…My son…I can't stand it anymore…I'm almost there…" Jeongyeon's eyes turned white and she was foaming at the mouth. I knew she was about to climax.

I pushed hard to the end, then leaned on her, sealing her mouth with my lips. Our tongue tips chased and sucked each other, sharing each other's saliva. Jeongyeon's orgasm was so intense that she clutched my back, her nails leaving deep scratches on my skin. I also reached the extreme at the same time and ejaculated a large amount of hot cum in the deepest part of Jeongyeon.

We held each other tightly, enjoying the afterglow of orgasm. Two lines of tears fell from the corners of Jeongyeon's eyes. I don't know whether it was because of pleasure or shame, maybe both. I kissed the corners of her eyes gently, kissing away those tears one by one.

I've been waiting for this day for so long - finally being able to fuck Jeongyeon in my fantasies. Jeongyeon was trembling slightly under me, her lips were slightly open, her eyes were out of focus, and her expression was like that of a girl who had just gone through puberty. This gave me an indescribable sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.

I know that Jeongyeon must be ashamed at this moment, but the more she shows this reaction, the more my desire to conquer is aroused. I raised Jeongyeon's legs again and wrapped them around my waist, and then buried myself deeply inside her again.

"Oh…My son…slow down…I can't bear it…" Jeongyeon begged me to slow down, but I remained unmoved. Instead, I thrust into her deepest parts even more fiercely. "Mom, you're so hot inside, it's like you were tailor-made for me." I smiled proudly, while increasing my speed, thrusting to the bottom every time, feeling the pleasure of her tight muscles wrapping around me.

"Ah… My son… you are too… too big…" Jeongyeon was so fucked that she lost her voice. She tried to raise her neck to escape from my attack but to no avail.

I looked at Jeongyeon's painful expression under me, and I felt an evil fire rising in my heart. She is supposed to be my mother, but now she is like a doll, letting me do whatever I want. This feels so wonderful!

I increased my speed a little more, hitting her G-spot hard every time, causing her to scream again and again. Jeongyeon was fucked so hard by me that she became incontinent, and a warm current surged out of her body, but I continued to fuck her, trying to force out more of her body fluids.

Jeongyeon looked at her hands that were handcuffed to the steel pipe, and then at her son who was raping her, feeling a sense of shame and guilt. But what followed was an unprecedented pleasure - which was completely different from what her husband had given her. Her son's thick, long and powerful flesh blade was raging inside her body, bringing intense pleasure with every blow.

She recalled her married life with my father, a weak man who could not meet her needs no matter what. As time passed, her interest in sex became less and less. It wasn't until my appearance that she rekindled the flame of desire.

Now, she was lying here, being raped by her son, and she was still enjoying the pleasure! This made Jeongyeon feel extremely ashamed, but she couldn't control her body and instead actively catered to her son's attack.

I roughly took possession of every part of her, from her breasts to her thighs, to the center of her body below. There was no part that I missed. Jeongyeon never thought that she would be so addicted to sex, especially when she was possessed by her biological son. I suddenly quickened my pace, and each thrust violently opened her door, reaching the deepest part of her soft flesh. Jeongyeon's reason completely disappeared at this time, leaving only endless desire dominating her. She yelled for her son to push harder and push it all in, not caring what a ridiculous request it was.

"My son…you are so powerful…you are going to break me…" Jeongyeon screamed incoherently. She had lost the ability to think and could only follow her instincts to pursue the greatest pleasure.

I heard her words and was obviously encouraged. I growled and accelerated the rhythm. Each stroke was more ferocious than the previous one, driving straight into the deepest part of Jeongyeon, as if I wanted to fuck the entire body.

"Mom, do you know how much I long for you? I have been imagining the scene now - occupying every inch of your skin, doing whatever I want inside you… Now I finally did it!" I shouted, like It violently fucked Jeongyeon’s pussy like a wild animal.

"Ah…My son…you are so big…I won't be able to do it…" Jeongyeon was so stunned by me that she raised her head, her eyes were blurred, and she was completely lost in the whirlpool of lust.

I looked at Jeongyeon underneath me. This was the image I had been dreaming about for many years - my mother was naked, being held down and fucked wildly by me. The place where she once gave birth to me has now become mine. plaything. This taboo stimulation makes my blood boil. I just want to violate her more fiercely and turn her into my private property.

I picked up Jeongyeon's thighs, folded her into a very aggressive position, and then thrust inside her hard. "Ah——!" Jeongyeon exclaimed, her lower body was completely filled by me, and the deepest part was completely occupied by me.

"Mom, you see clearly, I am inside you now, and we are finally truly one." I showed a proud smile and began to thrust vigorously.

"Oh…My son…you are going to…break me…" Jeongyeon cried. She twisted around desperately to escape my attack, but I held her firmly and refused to let her go. "No, Mom, you are mine now and will never leave." I gasped and sped up, each stroke bringing out more body fluids from Jeongyeon's body, making my pubic hair wet.

"Hmm… My son… you are much stronger than your dad… fuck me… harder…" Jeongyeon was immersed in my offensive. She forgot all shame and just wanted to pursue a bigger one. pleasure.

"Mom, it turns out that you have always wanted me to treat you like this, so let go of everything now, and I will give you an orgasm you have never had before." I smiled proudly, grabbed Jeongyeon's wrist and pulled her up, letting her lean against her. My body takes my fucks.

"Ah… My son… I really can't do it anymore… Where are you going to cum…" Jeongyeon felt my flesh blade expand more and more inside her body, and knew that I was almost there. "Of course, I will cum directly inside you, Mom, I want to fill you with my seed." I accelerated my thrusting, and finally buried it deeply into her bottom, shooting out wave after wave of hot semen on the center of the flower.

"Oh——!" Jeongyeon screamed, completely filled with my heat, and her reason completely collapsed.

I looked at Jeongyeon who was fucked into a daze by me, and the desire to conquer in my heart was satisfied to the greatest extent. From now on, Jeongyeon is no longer my mother, but a woman who belongs to me. I can possess her, manipulate her at any time, and turn her into a sex-chasing machine.

I leaned down and kissed Jeongyeon's lips. Her tongue immediately intertwined with mine, and their fluids exchanged. I slowly pulled out but remained inside her, ready for the next round of fighting.

"Mom, are you ready? We have a whole day ahead," I murmured in her ear as I pushed forward and penetrated her again.

"Ah…My son…don't…" Jeongyeon's body has been toyed with by me until her whole body aches, but I still have no intention of stopping. She didn't know how many times I had cum inside her, and her body was filled with my sticky semen, which even continued to overflow from our joint and wet the sheets underneath her.

"My son… I can't stand it anymore… let's stop, please…" Jeongyeon begged me, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, but more of them were the remnants of pleasure. "It's impossible, Mom, I'm going to fuck you to the core, and I won't stop until you completely belong to me." I smiled evilly and increased my speed as if I wanted to stuff my whole body into Jeongyeon's body.

"Ah…oh my god…" Jeongyeon shouted in a daze. She desperately grabbed my shoulders to use her strength, for fear that I would knock her apart.

I picked up Jeongyeon's body and turned her over to kneel on the bed. This position raised her buttocks high, making it easier for me to penetrate further. I held Jeongyeon's waist, entered her body again, and then started thrusting hard.

"Mom, do you feel it? I have reached the deepest part of you. I want to take it completely, including your most private part." I growled, pushing against Jeongyeon's heart with every stroke, like As if to open it completely.

"Ah…My son…you are going to fuck me to death…" Jeongyeon cried, she was completely under my control and could only let me do whatever I wanted inside her.

In this way, I continued to fuck Jeongyeon for several hours, until the sunset and shone into the room through the window, I reluctantly withdrew from Jeongyeon's body and unlocked her from the handcuff.

At dinner time, Jeongyeon and I sat down to eat together. On the surface, it looked like normal. But I know that Jeongyeon has not completely let go of the shame and guilt of my raping her. She just doesn't want me to see her weak side.

I gently caressed Jeongyeon's belly, which still contained the bodily cum I had just injected. The blood of the mother and son mixed, forming a twisted connection. "Mom, what do you want to do tonight?" I asked knowingly, but actually I wanted to guide Jeongyeon to give up resistance and obey my wishes.

"…I want to sleep, My son." Jeongyeon replied coldly as if telling me that this is the end of tonight.

I'm a little disappointed, but I also understand that Jeongyeon needs some time to adjust to this new relationship. So I had to let her go and let her go back to her room to rest. At night, while my dad was away at work, Jeongyeon suddenly came to my room with a pair of handcuffs in her hand. I was a little surprised and didn't know what she meant.

"Mom, what are you…" I tried to persuade her to give up this stupid behavior.

"I haven't settled the accounts with you for what happened during the day." Jeongyeon's tone was cold. She grabbed me by the collar and threw me hard on the bed. "Mom, what are you talking about…" I tried to stand up, but saw that Jeongyeon had already handcuffed my wrists.

"Since you raped me during the day, it's my turn to take revenge on you." Jeongyeon looked at me condescendingly, with a trace of madness in her eyes.

I was a little panicked, but I also knew that I couldn't stop Jeongyeon. She quickly took off my clothes, exposing my whole body, then climbed onto the bed, spread my lips with her fingers, and penetrated me unceremoniously.

I tried to resist, but once I was subdued by Jeongyeon, all my efforts were in vain. Her fingers were domineering inside my mouth, roughly exploring every corner, forcing me to serve her. "Well… you learn so fast… good boy." Jeongyeon took out her fingers, which were stained with my saliva. She stuck out her tongue and licked the water on them, her expression showing great enjoyment.

I knew Jeongyeon was trying to humiliate me, but my physiological reaction was out of control. Under Jeongyeon's stimulation, my lower body gradually began to react, and the flesh blade set up a small tent under my shorts.

"Humph, you reacted so quickly? It turns out that you are also looking forward to being violated by me." Jeongyeon looked at me contemptuously, stretched out her hand to touch my cock, and kneaded it through the fabric.

"Um…Mom…don't be like this…" I twisted around in embarrassment, but was pinned down by Jeongyeon on the bed, unable to move.

"Don't worry, I will love you well." Jeongyeon smiled and took off her clothes, revealing her beautiful body.

I stared at Jeongyeon's body closely. She was like a sexy goddess, approaching me step by step, but I was trapped in place, unable to do anything.

Jeongyeon sat astride my thighs, holding my flesh blade with her hands, and slowly sat down after finding the correct position. I only felt a sultry heat wrapping around my front end, and Jeongyeon's body cavity was extremely soft as if my flesh blade had been swallowed alive. "Oh…Mom…it's so deep…" I moaned unconsciously, the pleasure of being completely possessed by Jeongyeon almost overwhelming my reason. "Moan louder, don't hold back, My son." Jeongyeon looked down at me, with the pride of a conqueror in her eyes.

She began to move her waist up and down, allowing my meat blade to move in and out of her body. My cock was lubricated by her nectar, and the movements became smoother. The walls of Jeongyeon's body cavity squeezed my crown, causing a numbing sensation. I couldn't help but gasp loudly.

"Oh…Mom…slow down…" I begged Jeongyeon to slow down. Her fierce attack made me unable to resist.

"No, I want to penetrate you and take all of you." Jeongyeon's voice became hoarse and sexy. She sped up the swing of her waist, and at the same time, she used more force on my cock.

There was a dizziness in front of my eyes, and the pleasure brought by Jeongyeon came in waves like a tide. I couldn't think at all and could only follow my instinctive reaction. My breathing became rapid, my chest heaved up and down, Jeongyeon's fingers twisted my nipples, and the double stimulation of the sensitive parts made me crazy.

"Mom…I'm almost there…" I realized that I was about to cum inside Jeongyeon, but I couldn't control my emotions. "Cum for me, spread all your seeds inside me." Jeongyeon shouted without restraint, and she increased her speed, as if she wanted to drain my whole body.

At the last moment, my sanity was disconnected, I pushed forward with all my strength, and ejaculated inside Jeongyeon. Wave after wave of hot water spurted out, and I felt unprecedented relief, and my whole body was trembling with orgasm.

"Ahh…" Even though I had reached my climax, Jeongyeon had no intention of letting it go. She was still swinging her waist, letting my cock rub and pump inside her. My already extremely sensitive area was stimulated again, and I couldn't help but cry out.

"Mom…that's enough…let me take a rest…" I looked at Jeongyeon helplessly, only to see her eyes were blurred, and the corners of her mouth raised a coquettish arc.

"Look, you're hard again. Didn't you beg for mercy just now?" Jeongyeon held my cock, feeling its hardness and pulse.

I did have feelings again. How could I resist the hot squirming in Jeongyeon's body? But my rationality tells me that if I continue, I will be tortured by Jeongyeon until I become dehydrated.

"I really…can't do it anymore…Mom…" I almost burst into tears. This sex was really beyond my ability to bear.

"Oh? Are you afraid that I'll hurt you?" Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow. She sped up her lower body movements, and my cock rubbed red inside her body.

"No…I'm afraid that I can't bear it…" I confessed frankly that Jeongyeon's skills were so good, she seemed to know how to stimulate me to the maximum extent.

"Don't worry, I will make you so happy." Jeongyeon smiled charmingly, and she increased her speed and intensity, as if she really wanted to torture me to the point of insanity.

My consciousness became increasingly blurred, and all the senses in my body seemed to be focused on my lower body. Every time Jeongyeon fucked me, I was intoxicated. My penis swelled more and more inside her, and the pleasure doubled. I no longer knew what I was shouting, I just kept shaking my head and buttocks in time with Jeongyeon's rhythm.

"Ahhh…I'm going…Mom…" I whimpered, my lower body reached climax again, and a thick white sticky substance spurted out from the cock, and all of it was injected into Jeongyeon's body.

However, Jeongyeon didn't stop, she was still bobbing up and down, and my cock continued to move in and out of her body. My reason has long been far away from me, leaving only the most primitive lust dominating my thinking.

"Mom…let me rest…I really can't do it anymore…" I struggled to get up, but Jeongyeon pushed me back to the bed.

"It doesn't matter, we still have a long time to play." Jeongyeon said with a smile. She increased the pressure of her weight, allowing my cock to go deeper into her body. I felt as if my body was about to be swallowed up by Jeongyeon. The wall of her body cavity was like a huge black hole, sucking in all my energy. My physical strength is draining away, and my mind is drifting away. I am like a toy in Jeongyeon's hands, letting her take whatever she wants.

Jeongyeon's speed is getting faster and faster, and I have feelings again. During this cycle, I didn't know how many times I had ejaculated, nor how much energy I still had. All I knew was that I was becoming addicted to this endless sexual affair and could no longer extricate myself.

"Mom…" I moaned, and another turbulence erupted from my lower body. "So good, You a lot more." Jeongyeon smiled frivolously, lowered her head, stuck out her tongue and swirled it around my nipples. My whole body was shaken, and the pleasure instantly spread to all my limbs. My cock also became erect again, as if it would never tire. "Mom…I'm really going to die…" I cried, but couldn't help but follow Jeongyeon's movements.

"Then you die under me." Jeongyeon said viciously. She sped up her lower body and sucked my nipples harder.

I was completely immersed in this infinite pleasure, as if I was in heaven. I no longer know where I am, and I don't care if I am still alive. I just want more, I want Jeongyeon to bring me endless orgasms.

"Ah…Mom…I'm coming again…" I growled, my body beating fiercely inside Jeongyeon. "Then cum for me, cum all for me!" Jeongyeon shouted wildly. She clasped her legs tightly on my hips and slammed her lower body against my cock.

My sanity finally broke completely, I roared loudly, and once again released a large amount of turbid hot liquid inside Jeongyeon's body. I feel like my cock has become numb. It only knows how to keep twitching and gushing, sacrificing everything it has to Jeongyeon.

In these rounds of sex, I seemed to have lost myself and became Jeongyeon’s exclusive plaything. The only thing I can do is surrender to her and give everything I have…

A whole night passed, and I was tortured by Jeongyeon until I became inhuman. I don't remember how many times I ejaculated, I just felt like my cock was about to explode. Jeongyeon's body was also covered with my seed, and there was thick white fluid inside and outside her body. But she didn't seem tired at all and was even more energetic than before. I was lying on the bed, my eyes were distracted and my consciousness was in a trance. My penis was hanging there limply, covered with traces of our intercourse. "How are you, my good son, are you feeling comfortable?" Jeongyeon climbed on top of me, and she stroked my body with her hands, her tone a bit teasing. I couldn't answer, so I just snorted softly.

"I thought you were going to be drained by me, but it turns out that you look like you are enjoying it." Jeongyeon sneered, and she used her fingers to rub circles on the cock, as if to wake it up again.

I tried my best to turn my head away from her touch. Although the cock has a tendency to rise its head again, I really can't bear it anymore. "Don't…Mom…I really don't have a drop left…" I begged weakly, tears flowing down uncontrollably.

"Oh? Really?" Jeongyeon stared at me playfully, and then suddenly kissed my lips. Her nimble tongue entered my mouth and intertwined with mine. My mind fell into chaos again, and my lower body became erect again uncontrollably.

"You see, you are just a greedy child," Jeongyeon said easily. She stood up, supported my cock and pointed it at her already-soaked pussy. I closed my eyes and waited for the arrival of a new round of violent storms…

From then on, whenever my father went out to work, Jeongyeon and I would have a lot of sex in bed, as if this had become our daily compulsory routine. Jeongyeon became more and more aggressive, trying various ways to possess me, whether it was a normal position or some unspeakable posture, she would try them one by one.

And I have been completely conquered by Jeongyeon. I am addicted to her sex and have become her toy that is ready for use at any time. I catered to her every request without shame and even made some perverted requests to please her.

Our lives seemed to consist only of sex. Except for going to school, we almost stayed in bed and had sex. My grades plummeted, but I didn't care. All I care about is her, my beloved mommy.

[summer-nights19]

Hellooooo <3

I saw your post about Tokyo Debunker and I would like to know your headcanon about guys with a partner who is shy about showing affection (hugs, kisses…,). It can be with the boys you want, although, could you add Rui and Yuri? I'm so curious how that dynamic would work with them, since one literally can't be touched and the other is a complete Tsundere haha

Thank you in advance, many hugs and kisses ✨️

Hi Anon <3 I honestly love this

Characters: Frostheim, Vagastrom, Jabberwock, Hotarubi (+ Rui and Yuri)

Jin

Oh God. He loves flustering you (he obviously won't do it in public - he has a reputation to uphold !)

Has you sit on his lap, cups your chin, wraps an arm around your waist ... you name it

Thinks it's adorable how shy you are about physical contact. Although that's something that he won't tell you (at least not at first) he definitely teases you about how easy it is to get you to become a blushing mess

Will find any excuse to hold your hand "to enhance his stigma" (he really just likes seeing how red you get)

Tohma

He thinks it's so cute that you get that flustered from the slightest

Isn't big on physical contact in public, especially at the start of the relationship, but will "accidentally" brush his arm against your or touch your hand if you're both reaching for the same thing

The most he'll do in public is cup your face or kiss the back of your hand

Acts all innocent afterwards while delighting in how flustered you look

"My, MC, do you feel OK ? You've gone quite red,"

Luca

It took him a little while to realise that you got flustered easily - at first, he freaked out because he thought he had done something wrong or you were suddenly feeling unwell

Like the gentleman he is, he'd never deliberately fluster you in public - he hates the idea of embarrassing you by mistake. Honestly, the most he'd do is hold your hand (if you're ok with that), link arms, or kiss the back of your hand when he's greeting you

In private though it's a whole different question

He's very gentle, especially at the start - hugs, kisses on the cheek, hand holding ... but that doesn't mean he finds it any less cute when your cheeks become bright red

Kaito

Ah yes the boyfailure

You two are a match made in heaven

It takes him a WHILE to notice how flustered you are because while you're freaking out and blushing, he's busy doing the exact same thing

After a lot of talking to each other (and taking it slow) you both begin to relax more about physical affection, though it takes a of encouragement and reassurance for him to reach that stage

As your "knight", he'll try to initiate any physical contact. However, if you decide to initiate anything, especially in the early stages, he will literally combust

Alan

A bit wary of touching you at first, just because he's used to putting up so many walls to protect himself, and the idea of being intimate is scary at first

He's also terrified of hurting you by mistake - even if you're pretty tough, he's a ghoul, and one of the strongest ones at that, so he'll still see you as fragile

However, after some time passes, he'd start to initiate things like hand holding or cuddling. Sometimes, he'll even pull you onto his lap

When he first saw you flustered you got, he was worried he'd done something wrong. However, after he understood that you were just a bit shy about physical contact, he found it so sweet

Won't try to fluster you in public, but now he can't keep his hands off of you when you guys are alone <3

Sho

He understands why you're blushing straight away and teases you endlessly about it

Will definitely fluster you a bit in public - he secretly loves PDA because it makes him feel like you belong to him

However, most of that is left for when you guys are in private - he'll shower you with praise and kisses

Definitely spoon feeds you your food sometimes or does the whole "you have something on your lips" thing as an excuse to kiss you

If you're cooking together, he'd 100% hug you from behind while instructing you (not that it's easy to focus with his body and the smell of his cologne that close to you)

Leo

He also teases you constantly, but a bit more maliciously about it than Sho

"Oh gross, Honor Roll. Why are you getting all red ? I bumped into you by mistake,"

Even though he won't admit it, he'll try to fluster you subtly because seeing his reaction is a huge ego boost for him (he also finds it adorable, but you'd have to torture that out of him)

It takes Leo a while to become more deliberate about physical contact, but when he does, he's all about PDA - he loves showing you off and seeing you blush when he's doing it

Haru

When you guys first become close, his touch starts off very platonic - a hanc in your shoulder, a friendly hug, that kind of thing

However, when he sees how flustered you get after you two start dating and he becomes more intimate, it has a bigger impact on him then he'd thought

Definitely teases you in a good natured way and tries to make you blush if you two are alone

When he's worn out from all his chores, he'll call you yo his room so he can cuddle you

Ren

Although he's completely in denial about it, he's also a flustered mess

He's not used to physical affection and is a bit closed off, so it takes him a bit to start exploring that area of your relationship

He'd definitely pretend it's accidental at first- something like your fingers brushing or your legs touching when you're sitting next to each other

When he sees how pink your cheeks become, he grows even more flustered - why are you so adorable

"Wh- Hey MC, what are you staring at ? You're going all red like an idiot,"

Despite his efforts to hide it, you make him just as flustered

Over time, with a lot of patience (mostly on your end) you guys begin to feel more calm about physical affection. However, it'll definitely stay private as Ren is not into PDA at all

Towa

Another guy who keeps his hands constantly on you - he's so clingy

Whenever he sees you, he'll hug you hard and for a long period of time.

Since night is the only time you get to hear his voice properly, you two often go out then and fall asleep cuddling under the stars

When he noticed you got flustered, he didn't have much of a reaction to it - he just kissed your cheek before continuing to hug you

Subaru

As a gentleman, and someone who's quite shy, Subaru doesn't do much physical contact at first, limiting himself to hugging you, holding your hand and giving you brief kisses when you guys are alone

At first, your reaction concerned him that he'd crossed a boundary by mistake. However, it was weirdly comforting for him when he realised you were flustered, because, despite not showing it, he felt exactly the same way

Would never fluster you deliberately, although he thinks you look cute - he's just too much of a gentleman. However, he'll definitely begin showing more physical affection as you both grow more used to it

Haku

Despite his charming act, this man loves touching you at every chance he gets. He won't even bother to hide it

Holds your hand everywhere you go and always pats your head/ruffles your hair after hugging you. When he's seated, he definitely loves having you on his lap

He likes PDA, but is also more than OK with only showing physical affection in private - it's ultimately up to you

Teases you a little bit about how much you're blushing, but it's mostly in a flirty way - he honestly thinks you're adorable

Zenji

Positively beamed when he saw how much you were blushing after he tried to hug you - he finds it so sweet that even the idea of his touch makes you react like that

Although he can't technically touch you yet, he keeps working on it. For now, he just tells you what he'd like to do with you, and he finds it delightful if that's enough to fluster you

He's too much of a gentleman to try to fluster you publicly but he'll definitely do it in private

Gets so clingy if he ever does find a way to touch you

Taiga

He's super clingy - it's surprising if you manage to leave his side at all

Definitely has you on his lap while he gambles to "act as a lucky charm" (show you off to the casino patrons)

If he's lounging about in his room, he'll definitely want to make out or sleep with you

Finds it cute when you get flustered and goes out 6 his way to make you blush at every chance he gets

Romeo regularly tells him to get a room

If he catches one of the other casino patrons looking at you, that guy will go missing by tomorrow, and your neck will be full of love bites to remind you of who you belong to

Fico Romeo

Romeo finds it endearing when you get so flustered, but he has a reputation to uphold, so he won't be telling you that anytime soon

Although his PDA is pretty limited, he'll still link arms or drape an arm around your waist so the rest of the casino knows you're his

When you're alone, he definitely gets an ego boost from flustering you deliberately (he also gets a lot more handsy - loves when you sit on his lap as he works on his desk)

He'd definitely say something like "Hey, BB ! Come over here," before pulling you into his lap

He'll tease you about how stupid you look when you're going all red, but he actually loves it

Ritsu

Honestly, physical affection isn't really his thing, so it would take ages for him to notice that it flusters you

He smirks slightly when he sees your cheeks going red - you're just adorable

Definitely not one for PDA. He also doesn't show much physical affection in private compared to others, but he does enjoy it when you guys share an intimate moment

Rui

The fact that his curse means that he can't touch you is the biggest source of heartbreak in his life, although he doesn't let you see that

He yearns for the day that you're both cured and he can hold you and let his hands explore your body, imaginig how you'd react

His fantasies are spurred on when he realises that you get flustered so easily - he thinks you look so adorable when you blush

In the meantime, he tells you about everything he wants to do to you and showers you with praise. This guy is a massive flirt

If Rui could touch you, he'd enjoy PDA - he'd love showing you off on his arm to the rest of the academy

Yuri

Yuri would never tell anyone this , but it takes him some time to feel secure enough in your relationship to start exploring physical contact. The very fact that he's considering it is off putting to him - it was just never something he thought he'd want or need

At first, he uses your checkups as an excuse to touch you - he lets his hands linger a bit longer than necessary and helps you put on your patient robe because "you're taking too long"

Seeing how much you're blushing honestly just makes him freak out more - you just look way too cute

Starts insulting you and telling you to stop looking at him like that

However, after passing the early stages of the relationship (and after you show him a lot of patience) you start showing each other proper physical affection in private

He's not really the type to go out of his way to fluster you, but he'll definitely tease you light heartedly

Masterlist

[dittolicous]

zosan fic idea with a dash of pudding love:

not long post-series, Sanji is working on setting up his own restaurant on the All Blue, with the idea that once everything is built and set up he'll leave it under Zeff's management while Sanji continues to travel as a Strawhat - he's still in his prime, not ready to settle down yet, and wants to be with his nakama! so the crew hangs around while he works and/or helps (Franky is the main shipwright for the new restaurant, Robin's helping scout or interview cooks/employees, Nami's helping set the accounting up, etc.).

enter: Pudding - she spent so long under big mom's control, but is finally free to choose how she wants to live... so when she hears Sanji's looking for cooks, she jumps at the opportunity! its a chance to find herself, completely outside of her family's domain, where she isnt shackled by her past! but its also because she knows Sanji is completely genuine and would never hold anything against her... he makes her feel safe. even if he doesn't stay, its ok. like living under the protection of an emperor, she knows shes safe in his restaurant.

and sue her, she knows she doesn't stand a chance with him (the Strawhat's will ALWAYS come first), but she can crush on her own private time!

Sanji is of course surprised at her wanting to work at his restaurant, and after some short deliberation, decides to hire her. she is an absolutely fabulous and skilled chocolatier in her own right, one of the best (something he does know first hand), and look, he's not Zeff - he doesn't need to kick everyone to run his ship, so there's no issue there XD

the other Strawhats are a little shocked or skeptical, but they trust his judgement... however this doesn't stop Nami from moaning to the others about her concerns and Puddings behavior back at WCI.

this makes Zoro, protective nakama and jealous Sanji lover in denial that he is, is every bit the grouchy guard dog around Pudding. he can clearly see she has a thing for the cook, but he doesn’t trust her worth a damn... so he hangs around like to moss that he is, constantly watching her to make sure theres no funny business

what he doesn't expect is for her and the cook to hit it off like old friends. theyre constantly together talking about.... cook things, working on the restaurant, with the other chefs, nailing down a menu plan, hell, she even seems to be getting along with Zeff! yet that old bastard gives Zoro stink-eyes all the damn time (you bleed out on a guys poarch ONE TIME-)!

it drives him up the fucking wall. his only reprieve is that eventually everything will be set up and they'll leave the restaurant and Pudding behind to continue their adventures.

except, slowly, doubt and anxiety starts to build up

what if the cook changes his mind? what if his new found friendship with his former bride reignites something? what if he realizes just how well suited Pudding is for him and decides to marry her for real?!

what if he decides to stay?!

and it actually terrifies Zoro a little. hes not ready to part from him! he thought he had more time to pine silently and bother the cook to his hearts content! thought they would have a thousand more adventures together before the idea of separating would even grace their minds!

he miiiight be panicing a little (and likely making the witch's life harder with his bitching)

eventually it all comes to a head when Sanji finally picks up on the building tensions/Zoro's dislike for Pudding, which leads to them fighting and a very impromptu, accidental confession from Zoro. and likely a fair amount of property damage. oops. sorry Franky.

once Sanji finishes blue-screening and his brain reboots to this new world where holy fuck Zoro LIKE-LIKES him?! hes able to give his own confession in return and clears up Zoro’s concerns - yes, he likes Pudding but not like that, you idiot, and that in reality, he was actually working closely with her because he was going to make her acting head chef alongside Zeff while Sanji was away! afterall, the old geezer is, well, an old geezer! he could use a young hand to help get everyone in line, and Pudding is no push over! she can give just as good as she can take, while staying cool under pressure. all of which, he could have told Zoro if the idiot had just ASKED.

Zoro is too busy riding the high of reciprocated feelings to care about everything else

bonus: Pudding could see how badly Zoro was pining for Sanji, she's connecting the dots, and purposefully acts flirty with Sanji - not to actually get with him, but to make Zoro jealous enough to actually make a damn move already.

mission: success (it wins her many brownie points with Nami)

[inferno-0]

Choleric

────────────────────────────

Just the attitude of the Titans to your temperament.

Let me remind you: Choleric is active, impatient and hot-tempered extroverts.

────────────────────────────

Godzilla

* Being a serious and calm creature, Kaiju is not used to your persona. He was amazed at your courage in front of him.

* He liked your extroversion to some extent. Unlike him as a loner, you literally communicated with every creature in your path. But the best quality he has revealed is to be a Leader.

You literally managed to chase away the skullsaurs that interfered with him, of course, it was not without escape, but still.

A Brave Man.

* Wanted to chase you away, but you were too persistent.

*You are now his Watchdog.

* To be Choleric is to be aggressive to some degree. To be honest, it sometimes amuses him. If you were a Titan, you'd definitely start fighting him to the end. But I like to watch how some little guy tries to move the tip of his tail and shouts something very bad at him.

* Thankful for keeping the raging gulls away from his dorsal plates while he swims. Will wait for the moment when you banish the Monarch from his eyes.

Mothra/Mosura

* She likes your activity and perseverance. You're eager to learn anything and everything that Mothra is amused about. But your short temper . . .

* It's not that Mothra is annoyed, she's worried about you. After all, the argument gets out of control at some point.

Your impatience may be misplaced somewhere, and the Titan tries to calm you down so that there are no unnecessary problems.

* Your irritability frightens her.

Even though it's several thousand times bigger than you.

* Sometimes he presses you to his fur, hoping that you will calm down and stop driving anger to the whole world.

* Tries not to glow too much at the sight of you. Since there was a moment where you accidentally ordered her to turn off her flashlight out of annoyance, to which Mothra choked.

I think she'll give you a lecture.

* She also appreciates your leadership skills.

Rodan

* Someone, help him.

* I have never met such a person as you in my life. No, of course he is. Partially. But this Titan is compared to you, forgive me, Bug. Your audacity amused him. Until you started throwing rocks at his beak and eyes, to which the Titan was ready to go back to the volcano and anywhere else from you.

* His ego has been suppressed since that time. You're not afraid of him.

And now he thinks: Are you stupid or are you really driven by something?

* He was surprised when he found out that you wanted to be friends with him. Okay, instilling fear throughout the city wasn't good, he needed communication. Of course, your character is not great, but at some moments he is ready to laugh at you heartily. Especially when you are the one who gets into trouble.

* And now let's forget about aggression, let's remember about Leadership qualities:

"Wake Up, Silly Bird"

"Thank you so much for this morning, kind little creature," ─ grunts Rodan as he emerges from his warm nest.

* No, he sometimes likes your mindset to boss others around. Although, he has frequent flashbacks about it.

King Ghidorah

* Very brave. Very brave.

* Three heads could have hit you to certain death right away, but something caught on them. Your aggression was wonderful, of course it's a pity to hear it from a person.

* Throwing sticks and anything else you can get your hands on when he literally saved your life for five minutes.

Only these five minutes still last for some reason.

* Okay, it them off, but it's still funny. A brave little king. Ghidorah kept you as a pet, but only because you weren't a coward.

* Ichi is proud of your anger at other creatures. He likes the way you command them.

Ni has the same relationship to you as Ichi, but is only watching for fun.

San is a little disturbed by your behavior, believing you to resemble his brother Ichi.

*Sometimes they deliberately bring you into conflict (mostly Ni) to laugh at your face.

Although, in the absence of an instinct for self-preservation, you give them a savory response, to which the Titan begins to retreat.

* Humans and other Kaiju find both of you insufferable. Godzilla is even willing to ask people to take you away from there, as Ghidorah's yells from another argument can be heard even in his nest.

King kong

* You didn't look like Jia. Jia is calm and understanding, and you are like a tomboy, irritated about everything. He still thinks about how his little human friend made friends with you.

* Jia introduced you as a good person, but with a strong character that you just have to accept. Kong had expected anything but this. Although he appreciated the ability to command others. You'd be good at managing your own tribe, if you had one. But given the Skullsaurs that are on the run all over the island from you, humans would have joined them themselves. Your aggression was out of bounds.

* Kong sometimes worries about your recklessness. You're not someone who sits still like Jia. You're always going somewhere. And he doesn't understand what you need. And Jia, who is used to all this, just says to calm down.

* Kong has never been in conflict with you. He tries to stay on the edge of patience.

The truth is trying..

He likes that enthusiasm, but please stop. Otherwise, he'll put you in this flying object that people use.

────────────────────────────

[fayes-fics]

Mrs Bridgerton

Mrs Bridgerton Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. Your ex-husband craves you in a way you had no idea about until one fateful call...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, explicit language and thoughts, dirty talk, sexting, sex tape, masturbation, pregnancy kink, smidge of breeding kink. Mentions of marriage, divorce, pregnancy, custody, parenting, heartbreak, emotions. Bit angsty maybe? Not sure.

Word Count: 4.3k

Authors Note: This is an anon request fill from January here. (tldr summary: ex-husband Benedict can't stop thinking about you) Nonny, I changed up a couple of details of your ask; the porn he watches is your old sex tapes from when you were married. Also, he doesn't call once he was spent; he accidentally calls very much in the act ;) I hope that is okay. Guys, I have no idea what this is; sorry. Thanks to @colettebronte for checking I haven't completely lost it and @eleanor-bradstreet for the gif used above. <3

“Mrs Bridgerton!.... Mrs Bridgerton!” A teacher calls out across the playing field as she jogs towards you. It takes you a few seconds to realise she is indeed addressing you. It's been a couple of years since you went by that name—almost a ghost from the past at this point.

“Ah, actually, it’s Ms y/l/n now,” you correct as she draws closer. “I’m, well, I’m divorced from Emilia’s dad,” you explain somewhat apologetically.

“Oh, I am so very sorry! I'm new here. I just asked her if her parents were here, and she pointed you out.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It's an entirely fair assumption to make,” you placate, shielding your eyes from the sun to catch Emilia's gaze and give her the thumbs up at the end of the grassy running track.

“Well, I just need one of you to sign this permission form for the trip to the Science Museum next week,” the teacher states, thrusting a clipboard towards you.

“Oh certainly, no problem,” you assure, taking the proffered pen and signing on the dotted line she indicates. You know how excited Emilia is about that upcoming trip, even though she insists on going to the museum with you or her father at least once every few months.

“Wonderful, thank you.”

You just nod as another teacher brings them all to the starting line with a blast from their whistle, and your focus shifts entirely to cheering on your five-year-old daughter in her first school race.

-----

He knows you haven't seen him, and he doubts even Emilia has clocked him, wearing a baseball cap pulled low as he is. He deliberately keeps a low profile when you arrive. He is here to see Emilia on her first sports day. Only that. Or so he keeps telling himself.

But then he sees you, and something in his stomach knots hard. It’s been more than two years, and still, every time, it floors him. A few months after your split, he took to using Eloise as the go-between for your shared custody arrangements and has never stopped. Since then, he has not seen you in person, too cowardly to face you. His biggest mistake was letting you go.

You met in your late twenties at a party hosted by mutual friends, and that night, he knew his life would never be the same. Something about the connection was instant and electric. He had the best sex of his life, right there in a spare room of a party. Both drunk and foolish, you didn't use protection. So it was only a few weeks into your burgeoning relationship when you found yourselves staring dumbfounded at a blue and white stick that would alter your lives forever. You married quietly two months later at the town hall, with just a few family members and close friends attending, neither of you wanting a big fuss. It was a big gamble in many ways, but you were both willing to try, crazily in love and filled with a youthful optimism that can be so blinding.

All was well until parenting a newborn drove you both to exhaustion and beyond. A wedge grew between you, even as your beautiful daughter developed into the best miniature version of both of you, with his beauty and your brains. You tried to make it work. But bickering about petty things and distancing became the only constant in your dynamic. Part of him had hoped Emilia would be enough glue to hold you together, but it was too much to pin on a small child. Just after her third birthday, he watched his world crumble as you tearfully packed up your possessions and took the light from his life with you.

And now. Now it's a regret that haunts him every day. Replaying the mistakes he made over and over, the ones that meant you slipped through his fingers. Too preoccupied with his career frustrations and plagued by chronic lack of sleep to realise the damage before it was irreparable. He knows now, too late, that with a little more effort and compromise, perhaps you would still be together as a family. He certainly never stopped loving and desiring you.

So when the teacher calls out Mrs Bridgerton, his heart almost stops beating and, to his shame, there is a stirring in his jeans. God, he wishes that was still your name, so much so there is a bitter taste in his mouth as he watches you correct the teacher in an endearingly accommodating way. A large part of him wants to leap up and grab you, lift you into his arms, beg that you use the name again. His name. But he doesn't; he just lingers in melancholic reverie, recalling with perfect clarity how it felt to push the white gold band shakily onto your left hand as you recited your vows.

Then with a sharp nearby whistle blow signifying the race start, his focus is pulled back to why he is here. His little wonder, the centre of his universe. Emilia Bridgerton. The most beautiful person on the planet. 

“Go, Emilia!!” he shouts, transfixed as his little girl moves out ahead of the pack, unthinking of anything but supporting his baby girl.

-----

Your head cuts to the side, and you freeze. You would recognise that voice anywhere. And how many Emilia’s can there be in the race?

He's not looking at you; his whole focus is on the field, but you can't seem to look away. Not even to watch your precious daughter. You haven't seen your ex-husband in more than two years. Using his sister as a go-between just seems like the best way to deal with your residual guilt about leaving him. But now? One look and your insides feel like you are falling down a chasm, lungs suddenly too small for the breaths you need to take.

Time seems to slow like molasses as you observe him. He’s wearing a baseball cap, almost akin to a disguise, but you can see underneath it that profile that still makes your heart flutter. Too much, really, considering you are exes. But his beauty was never the problem; it was part of the reason you always stayed. Those soulful eyes would draw you back every time. Those eyes that now haunt you daily, the Bridgerton genes far too strong not to override all of yours. Emilia is the prettiest little female version of your ex-husband you could ever imagine, and it's both your greatest joy and your greatest pain point, living with a growing reminder of the person who still owns your heart regardless of how much you might wish otherwise.

Looking back now, leaving him was an impetuous decision made from a place of utter exhaustion, not able to see a way out of the treadmill your lives had become at that time. But pride stopped you from admitting perhaps you made a mistake, serving divorce papers before you could think too hard about it. He didn't contest and agreed to all of your terms of custody without a fight. You didn't ask for spousal support; you earned more from employment anyway, most of his income coming from his trust. You never loved him for the Bridgerton name or fortune; in fact, sometimes, it felt like you loved him in spite of it. 

And now, one look at him, and you are breathless and in a complete emotional and, yes, physical quagmire. Your body yearning for him, your traitorous brain supplying image after tumbling image of intimacy, the likes of which you have never known before or since—warm bodies wrapped around each other in ecstasy, that velvet voice pleading with you to come with him, for him, always so eager. It makes your chest heave so hard you have to look away to regain composure, doing so just in time for the universe to seemingly return to normal speed, as you watch Emilia cross the line, victorious in her first-ever race. 

You cannot help it; you leap up and cheer too. And she looks over, beaming and jumping up and down. Running towards you and throwing herself into your arms as you kneel with a huge grin.

“Mummy mummy mummy!!” she peals excitedly, her breath gusting hard into your ear. “I did it! I won!”

“I know; well done!” you exclaim, rocking her happily in your arms. “You did wonderfully!!!”

“Did I see Daddy?” she asks, craning over your shoulder. You tense and swivel yourself to follow her eye line, but where he was standing just moments ago, there is now just an empty patch of grass.

“Oh, I don't think so, my love; it was probably someone else’s daddy who looks similar,” you suggest, the lie feeling odd on your tongue, It's obvious he doesn't want to be seen, and a part of you is grateful to avoid an awkward meeting. Emilia is still scanning the crowd, unconvinced by your assertion. “How about an ice cream from the van over there?” you offer cheerily, wanting to distract her from looking too hard for him.

“Okay!” she chimes happily, squirrelling a warm little hand into yours and pulling you towards the pedestrian gate. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spy a navy blue Jaguar pulling out of the other gate and know without a doubt it was him.

-----

He couldn't do it. He thought he could, but he feels the weight of your stare and has to leave. The minute Emilia crosses the line, he gives a little victory punch and takes off. Not able to face you. So much of him wants to, but the gutless part of him apparently resides in his leg muscles. Before he knows it, he is in his car and pulling out onto the West London streets, not daring to look back. It's not his day to pick up Emilia; that's still two days away. He would not want you angry for overstepping the agreement you have in place.

As he pulls up at a traffic light, his phone pings a match on the dating app Anthony bullied him into downloading last week. The temptation to fling his phone right out the window is strong. The idea of being with someone else, especially after the tumult of seeing you today, just feels wrong. 

The only person he has slept with since your divorce was the second biggest mistake of his life. Someone he met at a bar celebrating Colin’s last birthday after too many whiskeys. A close enough facsimile to you that, through the haze of alcohol, he let himself be seduced. The lizard part of his brain somehow convinced it was you, even as she rode him in a way that chafed. Nothing like the way you moved, positively undulated, on his cock. Regret clung to his skin, the fug of hangover already kicking in as he watched her wordlessly re-dress and leave almost immediately, never exchanging numbers. He never saw her again. The fact he called your name as he came was probably the majority of the problem.

The only thing that stops him from flinging the phone is all the history it contains. Pictures of Emilia growing up from a tiny infant to now. But also his text exchanges with you, that increasingly he finds himself scrolling back through on self-indulgent nights, back to when things were good, and you would send each other little notes of love interspersed with sexting that; even now, he can barely read without getting hard. Unable to resist, as he waits for the light to go green, a dozen or more quick thumb flicks upwards on the thread for your previous number, and he finds some of his guilty pleasures.

8 March, 3:25 pm

Y/N: You had better plough me over the kitchen table when you get home xoxox

4 April, 5:02 pm

BB: Tough work day, need you, babe

Y/N: How’s this, daddy? 

Y/N: [photo of your naked glowing, slightly rounded pregnant body]

BB: Fucking helllllll, I am one lucky man

Y/N: Come home, fuck me, daddy

BB: You need to stop calling me that…

Y/N: Why? I am literally pregnant with your child.

BB: Yeah, and that’s why it's so wrong…

Y/N: Just get here, pls. I am so fucking wet….

He is pinch-zooming on the photo, head tilted, his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth… when a car horn makes him jump, the phone slipping from his grip and falling onto his emergent hard-on. 

The traffic light has turned green. 

With an apologetic nod in the rearview mirror, he drives off, shaking his head, knowing it’s probably very wrong to be looking at pictures of you, his ex-wife, and wanting to fuck you so bad that his foot leans heavily on the accelerator. His blood pumping hard, already knowing he will be taking himself in hand the minute he gets to his place.

-----

Emilia is happily smushing the cone of her 99 ice cream in her little fist as you walk the few streets to your sister's place, where you left your car earlier. She has kindly agreed to let Emilia stay tonight and have a sleepover with her cousins. 

Later, you have your first date since your divorce, and you’ll probably need the rest of the late afternoon to psych yourself up enough to go. You've already cried off so many matchmaking attempts that you had to say yes eventually, just to stop the incessant badgering from all angles. Strangely, this one is Eloise’s doing, and you are still slightly weirded out that your ex-husband’s sister is engineering your first date in more than seven years.

Waving goodbye a few minutes later, you slip into your car and sit for a few deep calming inhales, trying not to think of how much Benedict stole your breath earlier. Some part of you thinks maybe you just imagined him there, a fevered mirage, your subconscious telling you to cancel this stupid date idea and stay home with your two best friends, Ben and Jerry. But then Ameila seemed to think he was there too, and honestly, it feels like you don't know what to do about anything anymore. 

-----

He wastes no time, flinging aside the cap, tossing his car keys onto the hallway table and sprinting upstairs to his bedroom, only pausing to insert his noise-cancelling earbuds and discard his clothing.

He is already leaking a little when he throws himself onto the bed and fists his cock with a groan. His other hand is hovering over the play button on the video he definitely knows he shouldn't be watching, hidden in a nondescript folder.

Your soft giggle tickles his eardrums as the video jolts to life. It's one he shot of you on his phone on your honeymoon—it’s one of his favourites lately.

“Bennnnn,” your voice a teasing murmur as the screen fills with a glimpse of your breasts, his hand trying to take a sweeping shot of your body as you writhe underneath him, both of you buried in a soft glow under a tent of sheets wrapped around your bodies.

His own younger self chuckles loud in his ears, behind the camera as he is, both of your breaths loud as the movement becomes more pronounced.

This is him fucking you and filming it. The camera pans down, and there, almost too tough to see in the grainy low light, is his cock surging into you; the shot is never still enough to see in full detail.

Somehow the lack of clarity makes it more of a turn-on. Benedict whines low as his hand moves in a firm motion, jerking hard, losing himself in reminiscence of what it is like to be buried inside you, your scent, younger you panting hard, pleading quietly for him.

His hand speeds up, and he gasps as the video grows more urgent, the noises so loud right in his ear. He can hear the delicious sound of your wet cunt around his shaft, and it's like a sense memory, that viscous heated cling he can never forget.  

“Ben, oh god Ben, you are so good, fuck me harder,” younger you moans loudly on the video, and both Benedicts, the old and new, couldn't resist that siren call.

“Y/n, oh god, give me your all, y/n,” Benedict growls, screwing his eyes shut, just relying on the auditory experience of the video now. 

But not realising with his slurred speech; it's just given his phone a command…

-----

You are driving towards your place when your hands-free car display lights up with the last name you expect.

Benedict.

Your stomach plunges. Just like earlier when you found yourself staring at him and reimagining so many things you know you shouldn't. You reach over and click the little green button to connect the call, heart in your mouth.

“Ben?” you say his name softly, almost timid. Worried about what it might mean after that strange non-encounter less than an hour ago.

The noise that greets you makes every hair stand on end. It's a throaty groan. He seems to hiss your name, and all you do is frown as your car speakers vibrate with the sound.

“Ben, are you okay?” you check.

“Oh god, I am more than okay, baby,” he growls, and every inch of your body is rioting. “Just please, please don't stop, fuck you feel so good. So tight and hot. I want to live inside you,” the words panted, desperate.

Your foot slips hard on the pedal, and you almost crash into a damn tree. 

-----

Your voice sounds different in his ear, and there is a background hum that wasn't there before, but he is so close to something so intoxicating he doesn't think to open his eyes and check the video.

“Talk to me,” he pleads low, knowing you on the video won't respond but somehow still wanting to talk to you regardless, “tell me how you feel.”

There is silence and then a slight shaky exhale. 

“Ben.”

“Yes, yes, yes, say my name,” he pleads, leaking over his own knuckle as his hand becomes a frenzy on his cock.

-----

You pull over, quaking. There is only one reason he uses that tone. That's his bedroom voice, and fuck if it doesn't make you as weak now as it did back then. You can only assume his phone has accidentally dialled you while he is what? Masturbating? You flush so hotly at the very thought, and yet you can’t school what you say next. Your treacherous libido taking command of your lips.

“Are you touching yourself for me, Ben?” you breathe, and your clothing suddenly feels too tight, too hot.

Your speakers vibrate your seat as he groans loud and lewdly, and it's a beeline straight for your clit, now throbbing insistently against your car seat.

“Yes baby,” he moans and now, in the background, you can hear it, a slight slapping sound, his cock passing through his fist. 

Your pussy clenches instinctually, and you feel a heavy pull, a depth charge of lust. Your lips tingle with the thought of kissing him, running your mouth over his body, wrapping around that cock you remember so well.

“I want you to come for me, Ben,” you plead, a hand straying down between your thighs, scarcely believing what is happening, what you are doing so brazen, parked up on the street mid-afternoon on a Wednesday.

“I will; oh god, I'm going to come so hard,” he snarls. “Do you want it inside you?”

Your fingers glance your clit over your yoga pants, and the heat is overwhelming. “Yes, Ben,” you pant, “inside me, give it to me, give me more of your beautiful babies.”

What you are saying is taboo. And so truthful you don't think to censor it. You would bear as many children as he wants to fuck into you. Still, even now.

“But you are already pregnant with my baby darling,” his voice taking on a softer edge, more wistful, “and you look so, so beautiful.”

You freeze.

“Benedict?” you say quietly.

“Yes, my love,” he purrs.

“Who do you think you are speaking to?” your ask is awkward, screwing your eyes shut, your hand moving away from the apex of your thighs. Suddenly mortified, perhaps it's not you that he thinks he is speaking to after all. Oh shit, did he get someone else pregnant? The panicked bile rises until he sighs the following words.

“Y/n, my wife, my life. God, I miss you so much. I know this must be a fever dream; I know we didn't talk like this in the video, but fuck if it doesn't sound so real,” he ends so wistfully.

“What video?” your question is slow, a weird weight on your chest that is your heart pounding out of control.

“Our honeymoon, darling,” he moans, and you can hear he is still masturbating, although slower-paced now. “When you let me video us fucking. I watch it so much these days that I'm surprised it's not worn out. And yet I can't not; every time I fuck my fist, it's to you.”

“You watch us? Every time you…?” your hand clutching your chest now.

“Yes, my love. I miss you so so much. I should never have let you go. You are my angel, the love of my life, the mother of my child and the only person I ever, ever want to fuck.”

The confession knocks your whole world off its axis. And you crave him. The feeling is so utterly all-consuming you struggle to take your next breath. You have to go to him. You have to see him. It's not even a choice not to. Every fibre of your being needs him.

“Ben,” you murmur, “don't come for me yet; I want to fuck you.”

“You do?” the hope in that gasp makes you lightheaded.

“Yes,” you breathe, “I miss your cock so much.”

You scramble to throw the car into gear and pull out into traffic. You are about a minute's drive away or less if he is home. Something in your movements so very urgent.

“Tell me what you are doing,” you whisper, trying your best to pitch the ask just the right level of seductive as you race down the road, turning into his street.

“I’m fucking my fist,” he moans, “but I wish it were you, my love.”

“I'm almost there,” you pant, pulling into his driveway with almost a squeal of tyres. You grab your phone and jump out of your car, crushing the handset to your ear as you run up to his front door and punch in a code, hoping it's still the one he uses. The crest of victory is palpable as the lock beeps and relents, the door popping open.

“Keep stroking yourself gently,” you order as you close the door and start to disrobe as you bound up the stairs.

“Y/n…” his voice is suddenly tremulant “this…. This isn't a dream, is it?”

“No, Ben, it's not,” you breathe, and you are down to your underwear as you skid into his bedroom, panting.

His eyes are wide with shock as you stride across the room, his cock still in hand and utterly naked; he looks just as delicious as the day you married him.

“Hello, Mr Bridgerton,” you purr.

“Y/n,” he stutters, and it's everything—surprise, desire, hope, relief, yearning and ardent.

“Call me Mrs Bridgerton,” you shoot back, and the responding noise he makes is so utterly feral you almost orgasm without so much as touching him.

-----

Eight months later

“Emilia, not there,” Benedict chuckles good-naturedly.

“Then where daddy?” her pout turns epic as she hands the offending item to him. “You do it!” she huffs.

“Okay, hold still,” he laughs and slides the small tiara into her hair. “See? Just perfect,” he opines, dropping a kiss onto her chestnut tresses.

“I look like a princess!” Emilia exclaims proudly, twisting to look into the mirror.

“Yes, you do,” Benedict concurs. “A pretty princess bridesmaid.”

“The prettiest,” you agree from the doorway, and both heads turn around and greet you with mouths that gape open.

“Oh, Mummy, you look like a real princess!” Emilia gasps, running towards you and giving you a quick hug before skipping out of the room gleefully as her grandmother Violet calls her name from downstairs.

“You look breathtaking,” his tone full of wonderment as he slowly gets to his feet, his eyes never leaving you. “But isn't it bad luck for me to see you like this?” he adds with a flash of concern.

You move towards him, and him towards you, drawn together. “I think we’ve had all the bad luck we are going to have,” you smirk, very much enjoying the sight of him in a sharp, custom-tailored suit. “At least I hope so, seeing as we have this thing to deal with,” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to your five-month bump.

“Thing? Darling, I thought we agreed; his name is Henry,” he sighs in mock indignation, his large hands skating around the swell of your belly, his lips warm on your temple.

“When did I agree to that name?” you frown amiably.

“Last night,” he responds silkily, right into your ear now.

“Oh no, you can’t possibly hold me to that,” you decry. “Anything said when inside me is null and void, Mr Bridgerton; you know I can barely remember my own name at that point.”

His rich chuckle vibrates against your whole body. “Well, let me remind you….”

“I’m listening,” you sigh, eyes closing as you sway into his hot neck kisses.

“It's Mrs Bridgerton,” he rumbles. “Or it will be again in about an hour.”

“I can't wait”, you whisper. “Say it again.”

“Mrs Bridgerton,” A dark, slow tease. 

You are almost late for your own (second) wedding just downstairs.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus

[patrixjia]

Velvet Chains (Part III)

Plot Overview:

Y/N is caught between her father’s crumbling empire and Chan’s rebellion. As she help Chan track down missing operatives, their bond grows, leading to a deadly confrontation that forces Y/N to question her loyalty. Chan offers a chance to dismantle her father’s empire, and though torn, Y/N chooses to join him, starting a dangerous journey to reshape their future.

Warnings: BangChan!Mafia, Mafia!AU, mature themes, emotional distress, angst, violence, dangerous situations, strong language, mental health struggles, (the smut will be in the next chapter🤭)

PART I, PART II, PART IV, PART V, PART VI, FINAL PART

Author note:

Well, well, well, look at us—third chapter in, and I’m still alive to tell the tale! 😂 This chapter? Yeah, it’s a beast. I’ve never written anything this long or complex, and honestly, I’m half-wondering if I’ve accidentally started writing an entire novel instead of just a chapter. But here we are, diving into some serious emotional roller coasters, plot twists, and the kind of chaos that makes me question my sanity.

I really hope you all enjoy this wild ride as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it (even if it has given me a few grey hairs along the way). Your support means the world to me! So buckle up, we’re just getting started. And, as always, drop me a comment if you’re loving or hating something—I’m here for all of it. Let’s keep this adventure going! ✨ Also, just a little heads up… the next chapter is going to get a little smuttier 😉.

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The first rays of sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, the muted warmth doing little to soften the chill that lingered in the room. You stretched, pushing off the weight of sleep with a growing restlessness. The space was luxurious but sterile, the kind of calculated opulence that screamed control rather than comfort.

When the door creaked open, breakfast was placed on a table near the window, and the figure delivering it slipped out as quickly as they’d come. You ignored it, slipping through the door before it could click shut. You weren’t going to spend the morning caged.

The hallways were quiet, the air filled with a faint hum of electricity. The mansion was sprawling but not ostentatious, its corridors lined with muted artwork and design choices that reeked of deliberation. It wasn’t your father’s world of obvious power and intimidation. It was colder. Subtler.

You found yourself wandering into a study. Unlike the other rooms, this one felt alive. A faint coffee scent lingered, mixing with the tang of paper and leather. A massive map dominated one wall, scattered with colored pins and strings. You moved closer, scanning the markings.

It didn’t take long to piece together what you were looking at. It was a blueprint of Victor’s empire—supply chains, strongholds, key distribution hubs. The red pins marked locations already compromised, while others, still green, pulsed with potential. A web of alliances and pressure points sprawled before you like an open wound.

You leaned forward, your eyes narrowing as they landed on a cluster of yellow-marked routes near the northern sector. The shipping lines there were irregular, crisscrossing in ways that screamed inefficiency. You could see where Chan’s strategy was stuck—his carefully laid plans bottlenecked by gaps he hadn’t yet closed.

Your fingers brushed across the documents scattered on the desk—financials, coded logs, surveillance notes. Victor’s empire wasn’t just cracking; it was being dismantled piece by piece.

“You’re full of surprises.”

The sound of Chan’s voice cut through the stillness, low and smooth. You straightened but didn’t turn. “And you’re full of shadows. How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to wonder if I should be worried.” His tone carried its usual casual confidence, but his eyes flicked toward the papers you’d been studying. “Finding everything to your liking?”

You turned, leaning back against the desk with deliberate nonchalance. “Interesting work. Though I can’t tell if the overcomplication is intentional or just your style.”

Chan stepped closer, his hands in his pockets, his gaze sharp as it swept over you and the map. “Overcomplication?”

You tilted your head toward the yellow routes. “You’re clogging your own lanes. The northern supply chain is built for redundancy, but instead of reinforcing efficiency, you’re creating a choke point. It’s obvious Victor did it to keep people guessing, but now you’re tripping over it.”

Chan’s eyes flicked to the map, and for the first time, he hesitated. “Interesting observation.”

“Observation? No. Solution,” you corrected, stepping toward the map. “You’re trying to seize control of both eastern and northern routes simultaneously. That’s why it’s falling apart. Drop the secondary lines from the north—they’re dead weight. Consolidate the flow into two hubs instead of four, and you’ll cut transit time by half.”

He stared at the map, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow. “You’re welcome.”

His gaze returned to you, sharper now, as if trying to read the thoughts you hadn’t spoken aloud. “Why are you helping me?”

You held his stare, refusing to flinch under the weight of his scrutiny. “Maybe I like a challenge.”

His smirk grew, slow and deliberate. “That’s not an answer.”

“No,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “It’s not.”

The room seemed to shrink under the tension, the air thick with unspoken questions. Finally, Chan broke the silence. “You know, if you keep showing off, I might start thinking you want a seat at the table.”

You crossed your arms, meeting his smirk with a wry one of your own. “Maybe I just like proving you wrong. You’re not as untouchable as you think, Chan. Your plans aren’t perfect.”

“And yet,” he countered, “here you are, improving them.”

You exhaled sharply, turning back to the map. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you could keep up.”

He chuckled, the sound low and amused. “And?”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your smirk sharp as a blade. “Jury’s still out.”

Chan stepped closer, close enough that you could feel his presence but not enough to invade your space. “You’re still dodging my question, Y/N. Why help me? Are you so confident Victor can withstand it?”

Your jaw tightened at the mention of your father. “Maybe I’m not as confident in Victor as you think.”

That seemed to catch him off guard, though he quickly masked it. “Careful. That almost sounded like an admission.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you shot back, your tone lighter but no less firm. “I haven’t picked a side. Yet.”

The faintest flicker of something crossed his face—respect, intrigue, or perhaps a mix of both. “Fair enough,” he said finally. “But when you do, make sure it’s the right one.”

You laughed, the sound short and humorless. “And which side is that? Yours?”

“I’m not the one clinging to a crumbling empire,” he said smoothly. “I’m building something new. Something better.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deception, but all you found was unshakable confidence. It annoyed you as much as it intrigued you.

“Better is subjective,” you said finally.

“Then help me define it.” His voice dropped, soft but unyielding. “You’re smart enough to know the cracks in Victor’s empire can’t be patched. The question is, what do you want to see rise from the ashes?”

For the first time, you didn’t have an immediate answer.

Chan’s smirk returned, lighter now but no less self-assured. “Think about it,” he said, turning toward the door. “I’ll see if your suggestion works. But if it doesn’t…”

“It will,” you interrupted.

He paused in the doorway, glancing back with a grin that was equal parts challenging and amused. “We’ll see.”

The door closed behind him, leaving you alone with the map, the documents, and the weight of his words.

What do you want to see rise from the ashes?

The question lingered, unsettling and persistent.

And for the first time, you weren’t sure of the answer.

The days since the confrontation with Chan had been strange, to say the least. The mansion’s rhythm ebbed and flowed with calculated precision, as though every movement, every conversation, had been planned days in advance.

You spent your time exploring its sprawling halls, learning its rhythms, and testing your boundaries. The guards rarely spoke to you beyond clipped warnings when you wandered too close to restricted areas. You couldn’t tell if they were following Chan’s orders or acting out of their own wariness.

Chan, however, was different. He appeared only when he wanted to, catching you off guard with sly remarks and a confidence that made it clear he was always one step ahead. His teasing came with a sharp edge, but there was no denying the undercurrent of mutual curiosity between you.

You didn’t trust him, and he didn’t trust you. Yet, in those fleeting conversations, there was a spark—an understanding that neither of you were playing at full strength yet.

Then, one morning, the mansion’s calm shattered.

You’d been in the study, feigning interest in a book, when the sound of hurried footsteps caught your ear. The low hum of conversation from the hall was sharper today, clipped and urgent.

Moments later, Chan strode into the room, his usual composure marred by a tightness in his jaw. He moved with purpose, his focus so sharp that he didn’t acknowledge your presence.

“You’re upset,” you noted, setting the book aside.

He ignored you, striding to his desk and pulling up a screen.

Before you could push further, another figure entered the room: Changbin. His pace matched Chan’s intensity, his voice low and urgent as he spoke.

“Victor’s people hit the northern base,” Changbin reported. “They’ve taken out the comms tower. Felix and Hyunjin went dark an hour ago.”

Chan froze for a split second before his mask of control slid back into place. “Casualties?”

“None confirmed yet,” Changbin said. “But it’s not looking good. We have partial intel—they’ve shut down our local network, and the safe houses are at risk. If they’ve got Felix or Hyunjin…”

Chan exhaled through his nose, his focus razor-sharp. “Start evacuation protocols for the northern sector. Clear out the Graham location and put everyone in safe houses on standby. If they’ve been compromised, I want them out of there before Victor’s people can move.”

Your ears perked at the name, a chill running through you. “Wait—Graham and Sons?” you interrupted, stepping forward.

Both men turned to you, Chan’s eyes narrowing. “What about it?”

You frowned, your mind racing. “That’s not just a random location. It’s one of Victor’s decoy transport hubs. If you’ve got people stationed there, they’re already compromised.”

Changbin looked to Chan, his expression unreadable but tinged with suspicion. “You trust her?”

Chan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied you, his gaze intense. “How do you know that?”

“Because I grew up in this,” you shot back, folding your arms. “You think I don’t know the names he hides behind? Graham and Sons isn’t just a front. It’s bait. Victor uses it to lure out threats to his network—and he won’t hesitate to cut down anyone who gets too close.”

The silence that followed was heavy.

Changbin crossed his arms. “And we’re just supposed to take her word for it?”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “Fine, don’t listen to me. But if you wait too long, Felix and Hyunjin won’t be unaccounted for—they’ll be dead.”

Chan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then he turned to Changbin. “Pull everyone from Graham and cross-check her intel with what we’ve got. Double it with our sources on the ground. If it matches, we move.”

Changbin hesitated, clearly wanting to argue, but nodded. “On it.”

He left the room, and Chan turned back to you. His gaze was sharp, calculating. “Why help me?”

You didn’t flinch under his scrutiny. “Maybe I don’t want to see Felix and Hyunjin killed. Or maybe I’d rather not see my father win.”

Chan smirked faintly, though his eyes were still hard. “Still haven’t picked a side, have you?”

“Would you prefer I did?”

His silence spoke volumes.

“I’ll take that as a no,” you said, your voice dry.

He leaned back against the desk, his posture deceptively casual. “If your information is right, you’ll have saved lives today. If it’s not…”

"You think I’m lying?”

“I think you’ve got more cards to play,” he replied smoothly. “And I don’t trust people who keep their hands hidden.”

You stepped closer, your voice calm but firm. “Then maybe you should play smarter.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze locked on yours. Then his lips quirked into a faint smirk. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I aim to keep things interesting,” you replied, your tone light but with an undercurrent of steel.

Chan pushed off the desk, brushing past you toward the door. “Keep proving yourself useful, and maybe I’ll start believing you’re not working an angle.”

You watched him go, the tension in the room thick and charged. Somewhere out there, Felix and Hyunjin were waiting—caught in the web of a game far larger than either of them could control.

And for reasons you weren’t ready to name, you hoped you’d been right.

Later that evening the tension in the mansion was palpable, an undercurrent of urgency threading through every hallway. Chan had been holed up in his office since the crisis broke, and though you were technically “off-limits” to the ongoing operation, you’d found a way to keep yourself within earshot of every critical update.

The news wasn’t promising. Felix and Hyunjin were still unaccounted for, and the evacuation of Graham and Sons had only confirmed what you’d already suspected: your father’s people had the upper hand.

When Chan’s voice called your name from the hall, you half-expected him to demand that you stay out of his way. Instead, his tone was calm, measured. Too calm.

You pushed the door open to find him standing at his desk, surrounded by screens displaying live feeds, maps, and rows of encrypted data. Changbin hovered nearby, arms crossed, tension radiating off him in waves.

Chan gestured to you without preamble. “You’ve been watching long enough. Sit.”

You raised a brow, keeping your voice steady. “I didn’t realize you were taking suggestions.”

“I’m not,” he replied, his gaze fixed on you. “I’m testing you. You know your father’s network better than anyone in this room. Prove it.”

You stepped into the room, feeling the weight of both men’s eyes on you. Taking the chair across from Chan, you crossed your legs and leaned back, affecting a confidence you weren’t entirely sure you felt.

“Where’s the hole?” you asked, nodding toward the map on the central monitor.

Chan exchanged a brief glance with Changbin before turning the screen toward you. “Here,” he said, pointing to a blinking red marker. “Safe house near Monroe. Felix and Hyunjin were scheduled to meet there, but they never checked in. No comms, no movement.”

You studied the map, your mind working quickly. Your father’s security protocols weren’t just strict—they were obsessive. If his people had cut communication lines, it wasn’t just to block intel. They were setting a trap.

“They’ll have a fallback,” you said. “Felix and Hyunjin. If they know the area’s compromised, they’ll move to the secondary site.”

“We don’t have a secondary site near Monroe,” Changbin said flatly.

“Not yours. Victor’s,” you clarified.

Chan’s brow furrowed, interest flickering in his eyes. “Explain.”

You leaned forward, pointing at the map. “Victor doesn’t trust his own men, let alone outsiders. Every base, every safe house—he sets up redundancies, but not for the reasons you think. It’s not to protect his people. It’s to catch them if they run.”

“And you think Felix and Hyunjin would know about this?” Chan asked, his tone skeptical but curious.

“They wouldn’t have to,” you said. “Victor’s patterns are predictable once you know them. He keeps fallback locations close but hidden, somewhere his own men wouldn’t think to look unless they were desperate.”

Changbin’s frown deepened. “That’s a lot of guesswork.”

You shot him a look. “Do you have a better idea?”

Chan held up a hand, silencing the argument before it could escalate. His gaze stayed on you, sharp and probing. “What kind of fallback location are we talking about?”

You tapped your fingers on the edge of the desk, recalling the layouts you’d studied for years. “Something off-grid. An abandoned structure, maybe a warehouse. He’d want it close enough to monitor, but isolated enough that no one would stumble on it by accident.”

Chan nodded slowly, his mind already working through possibilities. “Changbin, pull up the satellite maps for the area. Focus on industrial zones or decommissioned sites within a five-mile radius of the Monroe house.”

As Changbin worked, Chan turned back to you, his expression unreadable. “Why help them?”

The question hung in the air, heavier than you’d expected. You could have given him a dozen answers—some practical, some calculated—but the truth was simpler.

“Because I can,” you said quietly. “And because I don’t know yet what side I’m on.”

He studied you for a long moment, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Suspicion? Respect? Maybe both.

Changbin’s voice broke the silence. “Got something. Old manufacturing plant, shut down five years ago. It’s less than three miles from the safe house, just outside the patrol radius.”

Chan nodded sharply, already moving toward the door. “Prep the team. We’ll leave in five.”

To your surprise, he turned back to you, his gaze steady. “You’re coming.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You know Victor’s traps better than anyone. If this is one of them, I want you there.”

“And if I’m wrong?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Chan smirked, his confidence infuriatingly unshaken. “Then I guess we’ll both find out.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. Going with him meant stepping further into his world, further away from your father’s. It meant testing your loyalties in a way you weren’t sure you were ready for.

But it also meant a chance to prove you weren’t just a pawn in someone else’s game.

“Fine,” you said, rising to your feet. “But if this goes south, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Chan’s smirk widened, and for the first time, you saw something close to genuine amusement in his eyes. “Noted.”

As the team prepared to move, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment—this decision—was another crack in the foundation you’d spent your entire life standing on.

And you weren’t sure whether you were ready to see it fall.

The night had been long and tense. The team, guided by the plan you had proposed, moved quickly through the industrial zone. The dilapidated manufacturing plant you’d pinpointed turned out to be the fallback location Felix and Hyunjin had made for themselves. The security measures were minimal—just enough to keep outsiders at bay, but not enough to fool someone familiar with Victor’s tactics.

It was exactly as you’d predicted. Felix and Hyunjin had been trapped, but they hadn’t been caught. They’d already set up an escape route of their own, using an old underground access tunnel leading out of the compound.

As the operatives infiltrated the plant, you couldn’t help but feel a small rush of satisfaction. Felix and Hyunjin were safe—finally. The team worked in smooth coordination, securing them without any further casualties. You had been right all along.

“You were right,” Chan muttered as he surveyed the area with his usual stoic expression. It wasn’t much, but you caught the subtle shift in his eyes as he acknowledged your insight.

Felix gave you a tired but grateful smile. “Guess we owe you one.”

“Just don’t get caught next time,” you replied with a smirk, though the satisfaction of the mission’s success warmed something inside you.

But the victory was short-lived.

The atmosphere at the mansion had barely settled before the next wave of danger hit. As the operatives and the team returned, expecting a brief respite, a wave of alarms shattered the uneasy silence.

Chan’s hand flew to his earpiece, his voice hard as he barked orders to the team. “They’ve found us. Victor’s men are here.”

Your heart dropped as you turned to Chan, his eyes narrowing. “Get to the safe room. Now.”

Before you could even respond, the mansion was plunged into chaos. You moved quickly, following Chan and the team as they scrambled to reinforce key exits and prepare for a full-on assault. But even with the heightened security, the feeling of being hunted—of being trapped—was suffocating.

You had no time to think before the first round of gunfire hit, sharp and deafening, echoing through the halls. The mansion wasn’t just under siege; they were inside.

“Stay behind me!” Chan growled as he pulled you into a nearby hallway. You barely had time to register the sheer danger of the moment before you were crouched low, moving quickly as his operatives returned fire.

But then, in the chaos, everything seemed to happen at once. You ducked behind a pillar, narrowly avoiding a burst of gunfire. In the process, you twisted your ankle, collapsing to the ground with a painful grunt. Before you could recover, another round exploded too close to your position, a stray bullet grazing your arm.

You hissed in pain, clutching at your bleeding arm. You couldn’t focus on it; the only thing you could focus on was the sheer force of the attack. You barely heard Chan’s voice over the clamor of the assault.

“Stay down,” he barked, moving toward you with a fierce protectiveness that was uncharacteristic of his usual cold exterior.

But you didn’t have time to argue as he swept you into his arms, pulling you behind the nearest barricade. The calculated focus in his eyes never faltered. He was in command, but there was something else—an urgency to keep you safe that you hadn’t anticipated.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his voice tense as he checked your injury. You could feel his hands on you, pulling your arm gently to assess the wound. Despite the high-stakes situation, there was a tenderness in the way he moved, as though he wasn’t just trying to save you from harm—but from something deeper.

His fingers brushed your skin, an almost imperceptible gentleness in the midst of chaos. For a moment, it was just the two of you—the madness of the world outside and the calculated storm of gunfire drowned out by the shared connection.

“This won’t be the last time,” he said, his voice low as he wrapped your arm carefully, making sure the pressure was right. You could feel his fingers, light but deliberate, as he treated the wound. There was no rush, no panic.

For a brief second, you noticed something about him—something that wasn’t calculated or cold. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as though he cared more than he was willing to show.

“You’re fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his gaze steady, but his expression softened for just a moment. “You’re not dying on me.”

You blinked, the rawness of the moment catching you off guard. “You’re sure?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, it was as if the world paused—if only briefly. The sounds of gunfire were a muffled background to the intensity of his focus. Then, without breaking eye contact, he tightened the bandage and stood, pulling you to your feet.

His voice was hard again as he guided you toward the nearest exit. “We don’t have time to talk. Let’s go.”

But even as you moved through the corridors, escaping the immediate danger, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the quiet moment shared between the two of you wasn’t one of simple survival. Something had shifted. Something unspoken.

And in the aftermath of the chaos, with the scent of blood and danger in the air, you realized you’d seen a side of Chan no one else had—one that made you question where your loyalties truly lay.

The hours following the attack passed in a blur. The mansion, once a fortress of impenetrable walls, now felt like a fragile shell that could crack at any moment. Chan and his team had neutralized the threat swiftly, using the knowledge you’d helped provide about Victor’s network and the strategic positions of his men. With a few tactical moves, the assailants were driven back, and though some minor damage had been done, the mansion stood strong. Felix and Hyunjin were safe. The team was intact. The immediate danger was over.

But the weight of the night hung in the air, heavy with the unsaid. The adrenaline that had coursed through your veins in the heat of battle had given way to something quieter, more complex. The echoes of gunfire were gone, but the tension between you and Chan lingered, thick and undeniable.

You were in the kitchen now, nursing a cup of water, trying to clear your mind. The events of the day had left you exhausted—physically, yes, but more so mentally. You had done your part, had proven your worth, but there was no escaping the pull that Chan seemed to have on you, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. The attraction was there, undeniable. But it was dangerous.

You felt his presence before you saw him, the subtle shift in the air when Chan entered the room. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was there—his energy filled the space. His sharp eyes on you, the silent weight of his presence, made your pulse quicken despite yourself.

“You should be resting,” he said casually, as though the tension that had laced his commands earlier had never existed. His voice, however, carried a hint of something else—an edge, a challenge.

You didn’t look up as you replied, keeping your voice steady. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” he teased, stepping closer, just enough to be in your line of sight. His gaze flickered to your arm, now bandaged and well on the way to healing. “You’re tough. I’ll give you that.”

You scoffed lightly, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your neck at his words. The way he was looking at you now—almost amused—felt like a game, but one you weren’t sure you knew the rules to. You took a small sip of water, needing to put some space between you and the emotions threatening to spill over.

Chan didn’t let up, though. “I’m surprised. Thought you’d be more upset about the whole ‘almost being shot’ thing.”

The teasing edge to his tone didn’t make it any easier to ignore the way your heart picked up its pace. You were keenly aware of how close he stood, of the heat radiating from his body despite the cool air. You could feel his presence pressing against you, and your mind refused to focus on anything but him.

“Well, I wasn’t shot,” you retorted, meeting his gaze at last. The challenge in your voice was as much for yourself as it was for him. “So I guess that’s something.”

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes darkening with a glint of mischief. “You know, I’m starting to think you enjoy the danger.”

Your throat went dry, and despite yourself, you laughed—short and sharp. “I don’t enjoy it. But I’m not exactly afraid of it either.”

“You should be,” he said softly, his tone turning serious for a brief moment. He leaned in, almost imperceptibly, and for a heartbeat, there was no room between you—just the quiet hum of tension that surged between you both. You could smell the faint trace of gunpowder on his skin, mixed with the ever-present scent of cologne. The proximity felt dangerous, yet the magnetic pull of him was impossible to ignore.

He was so close now that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and it made your body react in ways you couldn’t control. Every inch of you screamed to pull away, to maintain the distance that was keeping everything in check. But something about Chan—about the way he looked at you, about the small glint of vulnerability you saw beneath the hard exterior—made you question everything.

“What’s the point of being afraid?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Fear doesn’t keep anyone safe. It just holds you back.”

Chan’s gaze flickered to your lips, and the air between you thickened, charged with an unspoken understanding. His mouth was dry, and you could see the flicker of something deeper in his eyes—a hunger, a tension that was as magnetic as it was dangerous.

Then, as if aware of how close you’d both come to crossing a line, he leaned back, the space between you widening, though the tension didn’t dissipate.

“Fair enough,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than it had been before. He cleared his throat. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not risky.”

You swallowed hard, looking away, trying to regain some semblance of control. But his presence, his words, had shaken you. And deep down, you knew something had shifted. You couldn’t tell if it was the aftermath of the crisis, the adrenaline, or the way he seemed to see right through you—but the boundary had shifted. The walls you’d carefully built were beginning to crumble.

Chan took a step back, his eyes lingering on you just a little too long. “You’re not who you seem to be,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’re more than just a pawn in all this.”

You felt a pang of something you didn’t quite recognize, but it wasn’t anger. It was… something else. A quiet understanding. It made your chest tighten, and for the first time, you realized how little control you had over what was happening between the two of you.

And as he turned and walked away, leaving you with the storm of your own thoughts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this—whatever it was—wasn’t over. It hadn’t even begun.

The news kept coming—each report more damning than the last. Your father’s empire was crumbling in real-time. Chan’s plans were progressing faster than anyone had expected. Supply lines were breaking, alliances were splintering, and the internal resistance within Victor’s ranks was growing stronger. It was all coming apart, just like Chan had predicted.

Victor, however, was far from giving up. His fight wasn’t over. He was tightening his grip, bringing in every last resource to hold onto the empire he’d built, despite the cracks beginning to show. You could almost hear his rage echo through the chaotic reports flooding in. He would not go down without a fight.

Chan leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the screen showing a live map of Victor’s remaining strongholds. “We’ve hit a critical point. The network’s destabilized, but he’s not finished yet. He’ll try to regroup. It’s only a matter of time before he pushes back.”

You stood by the window, looking out at the darkening sky. You could feel the weight of your father’s empire bearing down on you, like a dying beast desperate to survive. It was hard to shake the feeling that you were witnessing the end of everything you knew—everything you had once thought was untouchable.

“I thought… I thought this would be easier,” you muttered, your fingers brushing the edge of the window frame.

Chan’s voice was calm but firm as he spoke, his presence cutting through the tension. “It never is. But we’ve only just started, Y/N. The hardest part is coming.”

You turned toward him, meeting his gaze. There was no doubt in his eyes, no hesitation. He was certain—he always had been. But you felt the weight of your own doubts pressing in on you, as if you were standing at the edge of something vast and unknown.

“The hardest part,” you repeated, almost to yourself, “and you still want me to help you finish it?”

Chan stepped closer, his expression softening just a touch. “I’m not asking you to destroy everything you’ve known. I’m asking you to help me end what’s already falling apart. Help me tear down the structures that are keeping Victor in power.”

You took a deep breath. “And then what?”

His eyes darkened slightly, and for the briefest moment, something almost vulnerable flickered across his face. “Then we rebuild. But that’s for later. For now, we focus on making sure he doesn’t have the chance to come back. Once he’s gone, the pieces will be there for the taking.”

You felt a pang in your chest. “And I’m supposed to just… step into that? To take everything my father built and use it for your vision?”

“You’ve seen the cracks in Victor’s empire long before I came along,” Chan said, his voice quiet but unwavering. “You know it can’t survive in its current form. His obsession with control—his refusal to trust anyone—has already weakened it from the inside out. All I’m doing is speeding up the inevitable.”

You hesitated, the reality of his words settling over you like a heavy cloak. “And when it’s all over? What happens then?”

Chan’s gaze was steady, a mix of determination and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Then you take control. You become the one to rebuild. But only after we’ve brought him down. After we’ve made sure he can never hurt anyone again.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The idea—your idea—of taking control felt like a distant possibility, something you weren’t quite ready to admit. But even now, the pieces were falling into place. You weren’t just helping him destroy your father’s empire. You were preparing for something bigger, something that made your stomach twist in both fear and anticipation.

“You’re asking me to step into my father’s shoes,” you said, the weight of the truth sinking in. “You want me to take everything he built—and do what with it?”

“I’m not asking you to become him,” Chan said, his voice gentle now. “I’m asking you to become someone better. Someone who can rebuild it all into something that actually works.”

The silence stretched between you, thick with the weight of your choice. You wanted to resist him, wanted to reject the path he was offering. But deep down, you knew he was right. You’d already seen the cracks in your father’s empire—the cracks that were now yawning wide.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can watch it all burn and not feel like I’m betraying everything I’ve ever known.”

Chan’s expression softened just enough to show the faintest trace of understanding. “It won’t be easy. But it’s the only way forward. And you don’t have to do it alone.”

You let out a slow breath, the truth of it settling deep in your chest. The path ahead was unclear, but for the first time, you weren’t just fighting for survival. You were fighting for something more—something bigger. Maybe even something better.

“You’re asking me to betray my father,” you said, the words heavier than they had ever felt.

Chan nodded. “I’m asking you to save what’s left of him—and make sure no one else falls into the same traps he set.”

A deep silence filled the room, the weight of the decision hanging between you. You had made your choice. It wasn’t about loyalty anymore. It was about the future. And for the first time, you could see that future—not just as a shadow of destruction, but as something you could shape.

“I’ll help you,” you said, your voice firm, though a part of you still felt the tremor of doubt. “I’ll help you bring him down.”

Chan’s eyes flashed with something you hadn’t expected: approval. “We’re getting closer, Y/N. This is only the beginning.”

You looked up at him, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension. The future you had once fought so hard to hold on to was slipping away, and with it, everything you had known. But now, you saw something else in its place—a chance to shape something new.

You couldn’t help but wonder if, in the end, you’d be able to rebuild it all with him. But for now, there was no turning back. You were already too far in.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

[beecarmine]

Findings from reading Gerald’s journal (spoilers!)

• The journal was supplied to Abraham via an “Archival and Requisition Department,” and was signed “-T”

• Gerald had two sons: one was interested in robotics, the other in archaeology

• Project ARK had other funding outside of the United Federation

• Experiments were being conducted on a chaos emerald on the ARK, which was simply “acquired” at some point

• There is a direct reference to Ifrit from Sonic Rivals 2

• Emerl was found “in a warehouse” by Gerald’s archeologist son.

• Emerl may very well have eradicated The Fourth Great Civilization

• Maria was diagnosed with her illness later in life and was, presumably, not born with it

• Maria was moved from Earth to the ARK with the begrudging/unsure consent of her parents

• Maria is officially referred to as being the “adoptive daughter” of everyone aboard the ARK

• Maria had to use mobility aids

• Abraham Tower was the result of an accidental pregnancy

• Gerald refers to the pursuit of immortality (as requested by the president) as being “as intangible as a shadow,” and that he can use that pursuit to “chase [the] shadow” of finding a cure for Maria’s illness

• The Chaos-inspired robots were Gerald’s first answer to GUN’s demand for weapons, though their original intention was for search and rescue

• Chaos Drives were invented as a way to infuse Chaos Emerald energy into living tissue safely, as direct contact with the Chaos Emerald proved too dangerous

• Lizards (salamanders) were chosen as the first test subjects of the newly invented Chaos Drives for their regenerative properties and “manageable size.”

• Early Chaos Drives were also given to GUN’s mechs to power them

• Gerald felt incredibly guilty about the biolizard, and tried to keep it as comfortable as possible knowing that it was in tremendous pain

• Gerald may or may not have lied to Maria about what happened to the salamander

• Gerald was fiercely protective of Maria and had no tolerance for anyone who doubted the validity of her illness

• Gerald equates his agreement with Doom as being a deal with the devil

• Somehow, the development of a “small, sturdy biped” (hedgehog) was born out of necessity, and not to imitate other bipedal hedgehogs

• “Project Shadow” was named by Gerald with “scorn and mockery,” but it took Maria to help him realize that “A shadow tells you which way to go to find the light.”

• Gerald wanted Shadow to be “A champion of life and hope”

• “Gizoid” means “everything”

• The Gizoid (Emerl) establishes an unbreakable, protective link with whoever can exhibit the most power

• Gerald established a “link” with Emerl by firing multiple model guns in front of him

• The stress Gerald was under is reflected in his journal entries becoming more rushed and erratic

• Emerl was handed over to the government when they threatened to shut down Project Shadow

• Gerald created the Eclipse Cannon in response to Emerl not being “flashy” enough, and deliberately made it so that it would be impossible to use on a single enemy without destroying the world

• The Eclipse Cannon was meant for Shadow to deal with the Black Arms; as in, “This is Shadow’s cannon. My gift to him in a battle he never asked for.

I’m so sorry.”

• Maria helped design Shadow’s accessories to help ease the strain of the chaos power in him (specifically his shoes and rings)

• Gerald’s sons started to drift apart, divided in their relationship with their father

• Shadow and Maria’s relationship rekindled some hope in Gerald and what he was working towards

• Maria’s parents had another daughter, and Gerald felt it was a sort of “replacement” for her. No indicator to how Maria may have felt

• Emerl rampaged the ARK after having a new link established and learning enough to become “A god of wrath,” as described in ancient stone tablets

• Emerl’s rampage turned the Artificial Chaos to behave erratically and dangerously

• Both Shadow and Emerl are “equipped with heart”

• Gerald became so distraught from Maria’s death that he completely lost all sense of self

• Gerald left “everything” to Shadow

• In the last paragraph, Gerald seems to refer to Shadow using “it” and “he” interchangeably, but it’s a bit unclear if he’s referring to Shadow exclusively

• The journal has an Eggman sticker on the back, marking it as “Property of the Eggman Empire”

[rjthirsty]

Gilbert Predator/Prey

Words: 2,600

Tags: Biting, Female Reader, Possessive Behavior, PIV sex, Smut, Kinktober2024, creampie

A/N: @moonstruckmelancholic requested a Predator/Prey with Gilbert, with a quote prompt that is in also in the fic as part of my 100 followers event. I hope I did it justice.

Prince Gilbert never took his eye off you.

He watched as you made your way through the social circles in the ballroom. Chatting with other men. Laughing at their jokes. The way they touched your shoulder, your arm, your lower back. You never reciprocated, but they were touching you and you were not theirs.

He watched as you danced with nearly every Rhodolite prince. The way they all doted on you. The way they held hands with you. The way you smiled when they leaned close to speak privately to you. You were gorgeous in the way you moved about the room, but you were being led by someone else. Someone who you didn’t belong to.

He watched as you glanced around the room, feeling someone’s gaze on you. Your eyes found his. You’d quickly avert your gaze. No one was supposed to know the two of you were close. So close. And with a renewed attempt, you’d continue to be part of the merrymaking ignoring the way he watched your every move.

When you excused yourself, Prince Gilbert was waiting outside the restroom, the hallway deserted save for you two. Your heart thumped a warning. His cane thumped the wall, preventing you from moving past him. He stepped close - so close - to mutter in your ear. “The next hand that touches my pretty little rabbit will be broken.”

The threat causes you to tremble. Or was it the way his breath gusted against your ear? Was it from excitement or fear? The tiny thrill you got from his promise of violence was not something you wanted to admit or look too closely at.

His gloved fingers trail from the nape of your neck down your spine to the swell of your ass. Your lips part in a silent sigh of longing, hoping there would be more, but his cane lowers from in front of you and you knew he was dismissing you. Letting you go for now.

You press your lips back together and take a breath to calm your rapidly beating heart. Knowing you've been released from between the black tiger's claws. He was toying with you. Showing you how easy it was to corner you and set your heart racing.

Returning to the party, your thoughts were preoccupied. Thoughts of him. Thoughts of what he does to you– with you. His threat repeating each time someone spoke to you, suddenly more conscious of who reached for you and moving out of their way.

No one touches you but him.

You look for him among the crowd. Surely he's watching. He's always watching. But from where you can't tell. You can't find his hungry eye or sharp grin. Perhaps it's a ploy to get you to let your guard down. Perhaps he's nearer than you think and as soon as an accidental touch reaches you he'll make himself known with violence and power.

Perhaps it's time to retire to prevent such a thing.

As soon as you cross the threshold to your room you can feel it. He's there. The air hums, vibrating inside you, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end. Slowly, cautiously, deliberately, you close the door, turning the lock into place.

You've trapped yourself with him. You turned your back to him. You're showing him how much you trust by putting your neck between his jaws and hoping he doesn't crush the life out of you.

Like the monster he is, he coalesces out of the shadows. You can't see him, eyes pinned to the door just like he pins you there. His body behind you, pressed against you. His hands trace your curves. His voice sweetly purrs, heated breath on your neck. “You've pleased me, Little Rabbit. Coming to see me right away.”

The familiar feel of luxurious leather slides under your jaw as his gloved fingers trace to your chin and over your throat to come to a rest on your pulse. You already know by the way your chest is pounding that he’ll be pleased with how it’ll flutter under his fingers. This time you know it isn’t fear. This time you know it’s excitement and the thrill of what is to come. Will he be rough? Will he be kind? How will he conquer you tonight?

His free hand makes quick work of the laces holding your dress together. Much too quick. In a matter of seconds, your fancy gown is nothing more than a splendid pool of color encircling your feet.

Your heart beats harder. Beats faster. His lips touch the curve of your neck and you can feel him smiling. He's pleased. Then his teeth sink into flesh and the pain that accompanies his love sears a mark into your skin.

You cover your mouth to prevent the cry that threatens to spill from you. Fingers press tight to lips pursed and teeth clenched. Gilbert relents on your shoulder, his tongue soothing the burn that he inflicted upon you. His cooler temperature helps ease the pain. His tongue velvety soft as he laps at the angry mark.

Your fingers fall from your lips and a sigh floats out of you. Gil's fingers fall from your throat, drifting over your clavicle to the swell of your breasts. Pushed into two lovely mounds by your corset, his leather-clad digits draw across each pillowy tit, promising a gentleness Gilbert is not known for.

The sudden tugging of the ties on your corset is a drastic contrast to the light touch you had just been granted. Almost violently, Gilbert removes the shell that covered your chest. He discards it out of your sight, but you can hear the stiff fabric hit the floor.

Then he is gone from your proximity. He moves with precision and grace. You watch as he circles the room, pulling off accessories and gloves and shirts and nearly disrobing fully, his dark red eye landing on you expectantly. His gaze could pin you to the spot or pull you to him like a glowing lure, and right now you feel the call of his command leading you to step out of your shoes and drop the last garment covering your sex as you move to in front of him.

“Show me.” The way his lips pull back from his teeth to reveal his deadly maw in such a beautiful smile hastens the wetness growing between your legs. 

Obediently, you crawl onto the bed. Rising to your knees, facing him, legs spread for balance, you keep your eyes locked on him, watching him like he watches you. Hungry. Needy. But unlike him, so obedient and desperate.

Your lips part and your tongue makes an appearance as you lick two of your fingers, drawing them into your mouth to thoroughly wet them. Reaching between your legs, you slide your wet digits between your labia where your body lacks lubricant, pushing against the sides of your clit and giving it a cheeky little rub before you move to where you need no additional moisture. Your entrance is already slick. Slipping your fingers in up to the first knuckle, your cunt mourns the loss of your own touch as you lift your sticky arousal to fulfill Gilbert's order.

A thin thread strings between your fingers as you spread them, displaying how wet he makes you. He is pleased, once again. Practically salivating at the thought of devouring you.

The distance between you shrinks. His hand takes hold of your wrist. His tongue runs the length of your wet fingers, bringing them into his mouth for him to savor your taste. It's sinful, the way he sucks on them. One cleaned fully, he pops it out of his mouth, sucking the last of you off the other. Then his teeth take hold and it takes everything in you to not pull away.

Almost apologetically, Gil sucks your finger again, his tongue swirling around it as the tip toys with the indents he just made in your skin. His lips are soft. Dragging your finger from his mouth, he lets you linger - the only time you will be granted your own actions. And linger you do. Brushing his bottom lip that holds such softness in sweet kisses but hides the sharp sting of his bite.

His teeth catch your finger again, biting for only a second before his tongue laps at the blooming mark and his mouth moves to the next spot. Like a lover kissing his way to your mouth, Gilbert travels up your arm with bites more painful than nips and soothing licks that barely ease the ache of his teeth.

You rush to meet his mouth. Tongues caressing and tasting each other. The bed dips from his weight. His cool fingers roughly push between your folds. You gasp as he hooks them inside you, searching for that rougher patch not far inside your entrance. He swallows your moan. He steals your breath. He is relentless.

Gilbert descends on you. Without the need to guide you, he overpowers you. You bend beneath him. Shrink and fold and crawl and submit until you're on your back and he's above you. Your mouths barely separate and his fingers in your cunt continue to press and rub and curl offering a kindness for everything he's taking from you.

His thumb tucks next to your clit, pushing back the hood to strum your sensitive bud. It firms up immediately and he swirls it around with the pad of his thumb, pressing into the nerves below the surface. His fingers inside you continuing to coax a climax from you.

His mouth leaves yours. You're gasping for breath. Muffled moans no longer muted, now allowed to sound freely. A sharp hiss between your teeth when he closes you between his teeth. Your neck. Your shoulder. Your breast. His painful proclamations of adoration are scattered over your body. But wherever his teeth go, his tongue follows and the pleasure from his sucks, licks, and kisses are enough to forgive his sharp fangs.

You reach your peak and tip over the edge. Thighs squeezing together. Cunt clenching but his two fingers are not enough to feel full from. Your walls flutter and search for something more. It could have been so much more if he had just fucked you first. But Gilbert was a man that didn't freely give. He knew he'd have you craving him if he provided an inch for every mile you needed.

His fingers glisten as he licks your arousal from them. You're more than just obedient now. You're addicted. He is all of your thoughts. He is your heart. You breathe for him and him alone. And you would gladly let him have you any way he wants.

“Roll over my little rabbit.”

On hand and knees, you can feel him moving behind you. Removing his last article of clothing. Knees setting on the outside of your legs. He can't help but run a finger over your wet slit. He seems to love the way you taste as much as you love him tasting you. Fingers and thumbs grip your hips and he directs you into more of a tilt, bringing your ass higher and your pussy closer to him. Palms brush your lower back, pushing your hips further in a tilt and guiding you to your elbows.

His cock slides along your wet folds teasingly. “Beg me to be gentle.”

“Please…” You whimper, leaning towards him in an attempt to get him to slip inside you.

“Little Rabbit~.” He prompts, the tip of his dick slowly pushing into your entrance but stopping only just inside.

You lean towards him again but his hand holds the two of you from coming together. “Hnmph.” You pout. “Please, Gil…”

“Please, what?” As a reward, he pushes another inch inside you.

“Please, Gil, please. Please fuck me. Please! I want to feel you inside me, please! I need you inside me. Ah–!”

What was taking too long suddenly came too fast. Gilbert's cock shoved inside you with no regard for lubing himself. It entered easily at first, but his length eventually used up the slickness at your hole becoming rough and dragging the last few inches. His hand clamps on your hip, holding you from pulling away from him. His other hand sits flat on your lower back, keeping you angled how he had arranged you. 

“That's not right, now is it?” Without giving you the chance to accommodate or adjust, he starts pounding into you. The discomfort is hardly noticeable with the way your walls quiver finally being stimulated. It's mind numbing. It's hard to think. It just feels so good.

“Haah! Ah! Hnnah!” You can't even get a word out as his force and pace smacks the moans from your throat. It's so good. So good.

“Such a pervert.” He says the words adoringly. There is no shame or disgust, just delight. “Ahaha-ah.” Skin slaps. Your whole body rocks with each thrust. “Little Rabbit- hnnh- wants it rough.”

“Uh-huhn. Uhn. Ahnh.” You shove your face into the mattress, hands under your shoulders to keep you from putting too much pressure on your neck. Tipping your tailbone up, you try to offer more of your pussy to him. He’d go deeper if you moved closer. Feeling his cock hammering into you is exactly the sort of thing you need right now.

His fingers dig in harder on your hip. He's enjoying this. Your ass blushes from the impact of his hips. If your pussy was easier to see, it would be a lovely shade of pink as well. But the view Gilbert gets to witness is brief but erotic - his cock pistoning into you, disappearing down to his black bush.

Your legs begin to tremble. You can feel the next orgasm tensing within you. Your back naturally tries to straighten as your muscles begin to flex, but Gil's hand holds you down, tipped in that delicious angle. Fingers curl into the blankets. Moans become more strangled and desperate.

“Haahh, you feel so good.” Gilbert groans.

Just like that the tension snaps and sends you into body shaking convulsions. Gil slows down, rocking into you. Nuzzling deep and slow. Your cunt clinches him and he drags you down his length. His flat palm on your lower back presses harder, fingertips flexing into you. Your climax washes up your spine to the base of your skull and that wonderful weightlessness drowns your thoughts.

Gilbert strokes himself through your orgasm. Gentle words praising you. Filthy words complimenting you. Each sound he makes draws your spasms out longer and longer until you don't think you can keep it up. Coming this hard - this long - it was too much. It was exhausting but so so good. It was mind-numbing but sent sensations sizzling in every part of you.

“Haahng. Hngh. Aah. Ngh” Gil moans when he comes. His cock throbs so deep in your cunt. Shivers shake you, dancing from erogenous zones to fingertips and toes. He finally stops moving. Stops stimulating your swollen cunt. You are granted time to catch your breath and your sanity. Gilbert panting above you. You gasping below him.

When he pulls out, you can feel the mess between your legs. He slowly helps you move out of your contortions. Stiff joints from too much pressure in a position for too long. But he's there to ease your weight and move your limbs. You lie there sprawled on the bed, Gilbert clinging to you for warmth. But also a protective need to claim you as only his. Curling around his treasure like a greedy dragon clutching his most valuable possession.

He truly needn't worry. You were his from the moment he caught you in his dark red eye. You delight in placing yourself within his claws and between his teeth. Even when he digs into you, and pain burns where he rends, he'll lick your wounds and fill you with his need. He is yours as much as you are his. 

[trenchcoat-turtle]

Summary: All of his brothers have found their person. Meanwhile he’s stuck pining for Leo’s girlfriend’s roommate. Why does the girl of his dreams have to be taken?

“Hey Raph!” I called as I walked into the lair.

“Hey, y/n. If you’re looking for Whitney, she and Leo are already in his room.” He snickered.

“Oh, yeah I was looking for her, but I definitely don’t want to accidentally interrupt anything.”

“With how long it’s been since they last saw each other, I wouldn’t recommend it.” He chuckled again.

“You guys have been really busy lately, huh?” I asked him.

“It’s been a tough couple a weeks.” He shook his head. “Foot activity just keeps growing. It feels like an impossible task to protect the city from them sometimes.” Raphael responded.

“I can’t imagine. You carry so much weight on your shoulders.” I replied as I placed a comforting hand on his arm.

His eyes lingered on mine before he seemed to shake himself from his thoughts.

“Anyway, enough about that depressing shit, how have ya been?” He asked.

“Well, I’m single.” I laughed. “Finally got the courage to break it off with him.”

A bright smile graced his green face.

“I didn’t realize you two were having problems.”

“Yeah we have been for a while. I found out that he wasn’t cheating on me like it thought. No, the reason why he is gone all hours of the night is because he joined the foot! I was so disgusted, I would have rather he had been cheating!” I ranted as I pulled a bottle of wine out of the overnight bag I brought with me.

“He what? He is a member of the foot now? Oh shit, just wait till I get my hands on him.” Raph spoke as he cracked his knuckles.

Then almost distractedly he asked, “You spendin the night?” He motioned towards my overnight bag.

“Uh, yeah if that’s okay with you. I don’t want to stay at the apartment alone tonight.” I shrugged.

“Well since you’re stayin, you wanna watch a movie or somethin?” He asked as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Horror?” I asked hopefully as I filled two cups with red wine.

“Do we ever watch anything else?” He laughed as he took the wine from my hand. He took a swig of the rich red liquid and made a face.

“What? You don’t like red?”

“Nah? What happened to the sweet white kind you always bring?”

“I thought we should be more adventurous.” I waggled my eyes as I spoke.

His mouth dropped open a little before he quickly gained his composure. He gulped down the rest of the wine in his glass.

“Let’s go pick a flick.” I stated and he followed me out of the kitchen.

After a short deliberation we decided on Evil Dead 2. We both got comfortable on the tattered couch. Him on one end and myself on the other. After the first death in the movie, I found myself inching closer and closer to him.

“I need to stretch my legs, do you mind if I lean against you and stretch out?” I finally asked him.

“Y-yeah of course.” He replied with a bit of a stutter before motioning me over.

I snuggled up next to his side and stretched my legs across the length of the couch. His arm came to rest around me as he pulled me close.

Halfway through the movie I had completely stopped paying attention. The only thing I could think about was how good it felt to be in his arms. I was relishing in it.

Was relishing in it, until Mikey came into the room.

“What is goin on with you guys?” He asked suggestively.

“Watchin a movie. What’s it look like numb nuts?” Raphael grumbled as he held me to his side to keep me from putting distance between us. He also sent a death stare at Mikey that made him get the hint. I’ve never seen him give up on teasing so quickly.

“Oh, right. Well, good night y/n.” Mikey replied before turning around and all but running from the room.

“What was that all about?” I asked with a laugh.

“You know how Mike is. Always tryin to play match maker.” He shrugged.

“And what if he was trying to play match maker with us?” I asked him as I looked up at his green eyes. I twirled the end of his mask in my fingers.

He gulped. “I won’t let him drive you crazy like that, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think he’d be pretty successful. On my end anyway.”

“You’re serious? A girl like you with a guy like me?” He scoffed.

I sat up and faced him. The movie all but forgotten in the background.

“Yeah, Raph. What is that even supposed to mean? You’re hot, strong, sweet, and funny. Why wouldn’t I be interested in you?”

He was speechless for a moment before finally saying, “You have no idea how long I have wanted you.”

“If it’s half as long as I have wanted you, I do think I have some idea.” I cupped his cheek with my hand. “I had been planning to break up with what’s his face for a long time because you are who I truly want. I was just afraid of what he might have done to me if I had.”

“You know I will always protect you. You ain’t gotta worry about him.”

I leaned in and kissed him. He responded back immediately. The kiss was needy and before I knew what was happening he was pulling me onto his lap.

He deepened the kiss and I felt a bulge through his pants. The skirt I had worn was pushed up around my thighs and I rubbed against his erection. He moaned against my lips further spurring my hips into motion.

Breathlessly I asked, “Bedroom?”

His response was to pick me up from the couch and carry me to his bed.

—

AN: sorry for any mistakes! I wrote this on my phone since my laptop is being buggy.

[renlyslittlerose]

Kinktober Day 30 - Under-Negotiated / Lingerie

For @tideswept ~ 💗

Under the Guise - 3,476 Rating: E Content: Established Relationship / Explicit Sexual Content / Lingerie / Anakin Skywalker Wears Lingerie / Oral Sex / Dry Humping / Under-negotiated Kink / Basically Anakin surprises Obi-Wan / Mild Feminization / Dirty Talk

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After a decade of living, training, and working alongside Obi-Wan, Anakin was fairly certain he knew everything there was to know about his Master. He knew that he preferred green tea over black, enjoyed grounded non-fiction over anything fantastical, overheated quickly but never seemed to get cold, and hated the taste of a particular green herb from Kashyyyk that he insisted tasted like soap. He disliked the initial burst into light speed, preferred opera to musicals, and could knock a man flat on his back with a single punch.

And he liked when Anakin sat on his lap, adored the scent of Anakin’s inner thighs after they’d fucked, and curled his toes and babbled like a mad-man when Anakin nuzzled the space just behind his ear.

Anakin knew everything.

Which was why it came as a surprise when he ‘accidentally’ stumbled upon a hidden folder in Obi-Wan’s datapad that contained multiple images of beautiful men in silk lingerie.

They were mixed in with other images of young men and women in varying states of undress, nothing too out of the ordinary save for the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi had a smutty picture collection on his data-pad. But there was definitely a theme; multiple men in different sorts of lingerie, the silk tight along the swells of their asses and the bulge of their cocks, some with bras that held tight against their broad, flat chests.

As soon as Anakin had shed his shock and quelled his jealousy, he came to the realization that he had to do something about this newfound knowledge.

Obi-Wan would never admit to it, of course, even when provided with the clear evidence. He’d try to turn things around and accuse Anakin of snooping in things he shouldn’t have been, which Anakin would have agreed with were it not for the fact that Obi-Wan was supposed to share everything with him. They were a team - the team - and they shouldn’t keep secrets from one another.

But Anakin couldn’t let this go. He refused to. Obi-Wan having a thing for men in lingerie made from women both amused and excited Anakin, the thought of surprising him with his own pair of frilly underwear too good to pass up.

It could backfire. In fact, it probably would backfire. Anakin would find a way to mess it up. He may have been graceful on the combat field, a savant when it came to communing with the Force, and the supposed Chosen One, but where he excelled at physical prowess he lacked in social graces. He said the wrong things, looked at people the wrong way, engaged with his emotions in the wrong way.

But he had to do this, even if Obi-Wan kicked his teeth in after he found out how he knew about his obsession with silk panties.

XXX

He’d gone to Padmé for help, of course. Next on the list of no social abilities came Anakin’s ineptitude at shopping for clothes. He tried to keep his reasons for needing lingerie vague but Padmé immediately sniffed him out, her smile sharp and dragged him to her favourite shop in the upper levels of Coruscant. He followed behind her as she plucked various pieces from the curated shelves, picking different colours and motifs while deliberately avoiding the blacks and dark greys.

‘If we’re doing this, I’m going to get you into some colour for a change,’ she said as she eyed a bra the colour of sea-foam.

She ended up buying everything she picked out without having Anakin try them on, knowing that Anakin was quickly reaching his capacity for embarrassment. Of course her charity wasn’t entirely altruistic, and when they arrived back at her apartment she made him show off his new collection.

Anakin would be lying if he said the silk didn’t feel nice, and he’d also be lying if he said he didn’t like the look of the fabric and tight banding wrapped around his limbs and chest, muscles flexing beneath the soft material, a beautiful contrast that made Anakin feel… well, pretty. Padmé seemed to agree, appropriately praising him any time he came out with a new set of lingerie. Though her praises quickly turned into critiques of the lingerie themselves as she pushed things down and raised other things, removed garters and snipped off bows, appreciated one colour before decrying the next.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of stuffing his cock into a variety of tiny panties, they agreed on a set.

It was a dark red and made of silk and lace, the colour bringing out the golden copper tones of his skin and hair - or so Padmé claimed. The panties covered the swell of Anakin’s length and tucked tight beneath the curve of his ass, while the banding was pretty lace that mimicked a rose garden, flowers and vines framing his iliac crest, as well as plunging down the back to barely cover the top of Anakin’s cheeks. Garters hung down his thighs, unattached and loose flowing, but Padmé assured Anakin that stockings would be a little too much.

At least for this go-round.

The bra was made just out of the lace material, the flowers stretched out along his pecks, shifting and warping with each deep breath Anakin took. The straps cut into the meat of his shoulders but Padmé insisted it was a good look, his masculine stature contrasting with the feminine lingerie - a contrast that Padmé insisted was the main appeal. The material barely hid Anakin’s nipples, the pink nipple and dusty areola visible beneath the dark red material, catching Anakin’s attention as he admired himself in the mirror. He was both hidden and exposed, on full-display and yet still teasing.

Maybe there was something to it all.

XXX

He had to wait a few weeks before he could spring his trap. Obi-Wan had been sent away on a diplomatic mission to one of the Republican planets in a bid to prevent them from switching sides. It was a long and meandering time, Obi-Wan popping into their holo-calls with a tense grimace on his lips and a deep-set glower that swallowed up the twinkle in his eyes. When he finally did return all he wanted to do was sleep and relax, and so Anakin kept the panties and bra tucked away beneath his bed until Obi-Wan’s mood sweetened and the light in his eyes returned.

It was the fourth day back that Anakin put his plan into action.

Dressed in nothing but the lingerie he waited in Obi-Wan’s quarters, playing with the garter wrapped tight around his thigh as he stared at the door. He’d tried out a variety of poses over the course of the last ten minutes, at first lying on his stomach with his legs kicked up, before he spread out on his back, legs draped open and hands hung nonchalant over his head. Neither felt very honest.

It was, of course, when Anakin was halfway into a new pose, one foot hooked on to the side of the mattress while the other was planted on the floor, hands on his hips and expression more of a glower than a smile, that Obi-Wan stepped into his room.

“Anakin, I didn’t expect you to—”

Obi-Wan’s words died on his lips the moment he saw Anakin, his satchel full of datapads dropping to the floor with a clatter.

Forced to keep the pose he didn’t really like, Anakin cocked his hip out and smiled tensely at Obi-Wan. “Hey.” He almost added ‘sailor’ at the end, but decided against it. He felt ridiculous enough as it was.

Obi-Wan continued to stare at Anakin with wide-eyes, his mouth hung slack but with no words coming out, his tongue uncharacteristically tied. Anakin watched as a blush spread out across his cheeks and down his neck before it was covered up by his robes. Something pulsed in their bond, deep and heavy, and Anakin swallowed it down.

“Do you like it?” Anakin asked, suddenly unsure of everything. He’d never actually asked Obi-Wan if this was what he wanted.

What if it was all just an idle fantasy that he never actually wanted to experience, and that the reality was a poor substitute for Obi-Wan’s vivid and debauched imagination? Or what if Obi-Wan didn’t like Anakin in lingerie, preferring the models to his attempt? Or maybe he didn’t like the lingerie itself? Or perhaps the colour?

Obi-Wan remained silent, his gaze caught on Anakin’s groin, eyes dark.

“Talk to me, Obi-Wan, because you’re kind of—”

Obi-Wan surged forward then, quick like he was on the battlefield, and Anakin only had time to brace for impact before Obi-Wan was tackling him down onto the bed. He hit the mattress with a grunt, and let out a bark of surprise that was quickly swallowed up by Obi-Wan. His lips were hot, his pressure intense, tongue slick along the seam of Anakin’s lips as he immediately turned their embrace into something desperate and messy.

So maybe he didn’t entirely hate the colour. That was a relief.

Arching up into Obi-Wan’s desperate touch, Anakin groaned into the kiss as Obi-Wan started kneading his pecs, sliding the rough lace across his nipples, his skin breaking out into little bumps. Obi-Wan whimpered as they kissed, the sound unfamiliar and terribly arousing, sinking deep into Anakin’s groin as he pushed up and slid the silk material against the rough cotton of Obi-Wan’s robes.

“Force, Anakin,” Obi-Wan gasped as he finally pulled apart. His brows were furrowed, eyes already cloudy with lust, lips bright pink and shimmering with spit. He looked like desperation incarnate, already so pulled apart and undone.

The sight pleased Anakin, and he tilted his head to the side and draped his arms above his head, fingers tangling together as he flexed his muscles slightly. “Like what you see?”

Obi-Wan sat up slightly, his hands still firm along Anakin’s chest, weight steady as he admired Anakin. His eyes felt like fire, gaze picking and pulling Anakin apart, his grip tight along his pecs to the point where it almost hurt. Anakin moaned beneath him and arched up into the weight, desperate to feel all of it. Finally Obi-Wan relented with his grip, one hand sliding down to cup the side of his chest, fingers petting the silk that wrapped around his ribs, while the other slid beneath the strap on his shoulder, the rough brush of Obi-Wan’s knuckles pleasing.

“You’re a vision,” Obi-Wan said, his attention sliding back up to Anakin.

Their eyes locked, and Anakin tilted his chin slightly, goading Obi-Wan on to take more of him. Shifting his hips, he dragged Obi-Wan’s gaze back down lower, his eyes wandering down the plains of his stomach and further still. Obi-Wan’s weight shifted back so he was resting on Anakin’s thighs, exposing his clothed groin to him.

Obi-Wan moaned, his brows furrowing once again as he took in Anakin’s barely covered cock. The silk was already straining to contain him, the front stained with precome, Anakin already leaking profusely.

“You’re so wet, darling. Already sullying your panties with your need,” Obi-Wan tutted.

Anakin dropped his hands down to Obi-Wan’s thighs as they framed his own, squeezing the clothed muscles, making the corners of Obi-Wan’s jaw twitch. “Clean it up, then…”

Obi-Wan let out a soft growl and stood with the same abruptness he’d tackled Anakin earlier. Anakin watched with some amusement as Obi-Wan undressed, hands scrambling around his robes and belt, tossing them around the room. His boots almost sent him into a rage, a slurry of little swears slipping past his lips in his crisp Coruscantian accent, and Anakin almost took pity on him before he got the zippers undone himself and tossed his boots away.

Fully nude he turned back to Anakin, his cock thick and hard between his legs, bouncing slightly with each laboured breath. Anakin had never seen him quiet as undone as he was now, and he soaked in the vision as he played with one of the garters idly, his legs falling open to welcome Obi-Wan in. Obi-Wan accepted the invitation immediately, dropping down onto the bed between Anakin’s legs, cock pressed into the bedding as he hooked Anakin’s legs over his shoulders and immediately nuzzled his clothed taint.

Anakin let out a moan and arched back, fingers tangling in Obi-Wan’s hair as he dragged him closer and rubbed his silk-covered groin across Obi-Wan’s face. His breath was hot, the bridge of his nose pushing against Anakin’s balls, tongue sliding out to press against silk and skin. Obi-Wan moaned again, pitiful and delicious, and Anakin hooked his ankles together and held.

Kissing along his taint and licking the insides of his thighs, Obi-Wan soaked the material in quick order before raising his head up. One of Anakin’s balls had slipped out from the banding the harder he got, his cock pushing the material away, exposing him with each flutter of his heart and surge of blood through his veins. Obi-Wan gave Anakin little time to compose himself before he sucked at the head of his cock, licking the silk, making it wet with his spit.

The sensation of the soft silk combined with the pressure of Obi-Wan’s tongue was like nothing else, and Anakin let out a strangled sob as the pleasure rocked through him. Opening his eyes he dared to look down his body, watching the bra strain against his heaving chest, the stutter of his stomach as he breathed in and out, and finally to Obi-Wan was he mouthed his cock, wetting the dark material, making it look almost black with his spit.

Obi-Wan wore an expression that was both studious and delirious as he laved Anakin’s clothed cock with careful, deliberate attention, licking along the straining length before returning to the head, suckling on the tip to drag out more seed. It was incredible to see Obi-Wan’s lips wrapped around the pretty material, marring it with his lips and spit as he sucked Anakin off, cheeks hollowed and tongue flicking. He was grinding into the bed as he did so, his hips rocking in steady motions as he fucked the bedding, getting off on the sensation alone of having Anakin’s silk covered cock in his mouth.

Eventually it became too much, and Anakin tugged hard to get Obi-Wan to release him. Sitting up Obi-Wan brushed the corners of his mouth with his fingers, taking away the spit that coated his beard, making it shimmer under the low light in the room. They locked eyes, and Obi-Wan smiled at Anakin, lazy and sweet.

“You’re so good to me, Anakin,” he said as he collapsed on top of Anakin, teeth sharp along his collarbone and down his chest.

Pressing Anakin’s pecks together he licked between the shallow trench he’d made, rubbing the bristles of his bearded chin along Anakin’s skin. As he did this he thumbed Anakin’s nipples, rubbing the lace against the sensitive skin, sending little sparks of pleasure through Anakin. The rough brush of his beard and the lace against his nipples contrasted nicely with the slick warmth of his tongue as he licked Anakin’s pecs, coating his skin with his spit.

“Want to fuck my chest?” Anakin asked, already about to snap and give in.

“And sully your pretty lingerie?” Obi-Wan murmured. He rested his head on Anakin’s chest and peered up at him, eyes hazy with arousal, cheeks pink like a happy drunk.

“Yeah, exactly,” Anakin replied. He wasn’t sure if Obi-Wan wanted to get the lingerie dirty or not, but figured if he said or suggested the wrong thing, Obi-Wan would quietly and politely ignore the suggestion. “I want to see your cock rubbing against the silk, and have you come all over the lace. Make it real dirty - mark it as your own.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened, his touch demanding. He sat up a little and ground his cock against Anakin’s still clothed one, the pair gasping. Looking back down his body, Anakin obsessed over the image of Obi-Wan’s bare cock, hard and slick, foreskin pulled back and precome spilling out against his own length, the front of the panties sticky and stained, his bulge barely contained.

Head ducked, Obi-Wan also admired the sight, his hands sliding down to grip the back of Anakin’s thighs, spreading him open further as he thrust his cock against Anakin’s underside. Running his mechno-hand through his hair, Anakin tugged at the curls and bit his bottom lip, holding back a hiss as Obi-Wan finally released his cock from the confines of the panties.

“You’re such an obscene boy,” Obi-Wan huffed out as he wrapped his hand around their cocks and started stroking them together. “Probably bought the smallest pair of panties you could find, didn’t you? Just enough to cover you up, but not enough to keep that pretty cock of yours hidden. One wrong move and you’d be falling out, wouldn’t you? The head of your cock would peek out from the edge, your balls hanging between the tight banding, everything on full display.”

Anakin moaned in response, his eyes squeezing shut as pleasure washed over him again and again, Obi-Wan’s words and Obi-Wan’s touch and Obi-Wan’s desperation filling him up until he had no choice but to spill over.

“You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you, darling? Showing yourself off to me, like some animal in heat.”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

Obi-Wan’s grip tightened, his pupils swallowing up what was left of his irises. “You know I could never resist you, Anakin. Draped in rags, I’d still want you.”

“Are you saying I didn’t have to go through all this effort?”

“No,” Obi-Wan said quickly. “The memory alone of your panties barely containing your cock, balls hung low, the straps tight against your muscle will get me off for years.”

“Gonna touch yourself thinking about me?” Anakin asked, straining as another blossom of pleasure flooded through him. “Think about my cock and wish it was in your mouth as you get off? Unable to stop yourself from grabbing your cock whenever you think about my hole, barely covered by a thin strip of silk?”

“Anakin…”

“You can take holo-pics after, if you want. I’ll get in any pose you want.”

“Any pose?”

“Any.”

“You’re such a filthy boy.”

Hearing the words filthy tumble from Obi-Wan’s parted lips made Anakin almost pass out from pure pleasure, and he ground his hips upward, seeking more pressure as he neared the ledge. “I’m close,” he huffed out.

Obi-Wan squeezed his length and cupped his balls, rubbing the sullied silk against them. That was all it took. He came with a shout, hips stuttering, mouth hung open, cock streaming ribbons of come across his groin and Obi-Wan’s own length. Tugging at his curls he pulled until pain skittered through him, mixing with the pleasure as he rode through his orgasm, desperate to experience it for as long as he could.

When he was done he collapsed on Obi-Wan’s lap and let out a satisfied groan. But his relaxation only lasted a moment before Obi-Wan was moving again, dropping Anakin’s hips back down onto the bed before he climbed on top of him and straddled his chest. Opening his eyes, he locked them with Obi-Wan and reached down to squeeze his pecs together. Obi-Wan grasped his cock and slipped it along the middle of the bra, straining the material around Anakin’s chest.

“C’mon, fuck my tits,” Anakin said, causing Obi-Wan’s cock to drool profusely.

With one hand Obi-Wan placed it over his cock, creating a sealed off seam that he could fuck into, cock sliding along the trench between Anakin’s pecs and the underside of his hand. With his other hand he grasped the back of Anakin’s head, grip tight in his curls as he made him look at the sight before him. Obi-Wan’s cock peeked out with each hurried thrust, the head red and slick with seed, the shaft heavy and hot along Anakin’s skin, balls rocking back and forth as they dragged across Anakin’s sternum. He gasped as Obi-Wan tugged at his curls, his weight heavy across his form, the scent of his sex thick in his nose and the back of his throat.

A few more desperate thrusts and Obi-Wan was coming, thick ribbons of come hitting Anakin’s chest and neck, a few streaks landing on his lips which he licked up. Obi-Wan shifted his weight and held his cock, directing some of the come to the bra, spreading his seed along the lace. When he was done he ducked his head and started cleaning Anakin up, tongue hot and broad across his chest as he licked up his mess, sucking it off of the bra.

And then he collapsed, head cradled on Anakin’s chest as he eased into his afterglow.

Hugging Obi-Wan close, Anakin pet the back of his head and stared up at the ceiling. The tightness of the lingerie was starting to become uncomfortable but he didn’t move away, contented to remain beneath Obi-Wan.

A kiss was applied to his sternum, followed by another further up, until Obi-Wan was level with Anakin.

“Hi,” he mumbled as he brushed Obi-Wan’s bang from his brow.

“Hullo.” He returned the small smile and cupped Anakin’s cheek, his touch now gentle. “I see you found my private folder on my datapad.”

Anakin sighed. He’d almost gotten away with it, too.

[limerenceheart]

thoughts on yandere jing yuan??!!! what would be his preferred method to ensnare his darling?

hello anon! I feel like Jing Yuan would goes through the stage of denial from the five stages of grief till their beloved does something unacceptable. Also, I feel like his approach would derived from his history with Jingliu so I'm jotting further details down below.

a/n - i accept requests so please some in since i enjoy doing them and my inbox is practically empty.

The general never wanted to mingle anything relating in love.

The closet form he ever came across as love was pure admiration towards his mentor till that fateful day of vanquishing Jingliu forever.

Learnt lesson, never again but his young blonde mentee knocked everything out of balance.

If it wasn't for the young boy, he would never met the newest recruit to the knight clouds.

"Oh, (y/n) saw me dropped my tailsman and returned it to me but she have no idea who she was back then so she was super friendly."

Jing Yuan shouldn't had asked for more details but seeing her smile couldn't snuff out the spark of curiosity.

The general used the fact that she would never treated him normally if she found out his identity so he deliberately walked past her with other knight clouds in the bustling streets.

"General, what is the next move?"

It worked considering Jing Yuan could feel her lingering stare on his back.

The silver haired man should been relived but only a sense of disappointment lingered behind.

Why did he feel this? but he rather not know.

Y/N should disappear from his mind but a few weeks later, he found out his blond lieutenant have assigned her to another unit specialises in exploring the planet.

The idea of her leaving brought out another side of him.

"Yanqing, you are the subordinate, not the other way around." The general snapped at him and the blond was lucky that there were other cloud knights witnessing the exchange because Jing Yuan was sure he might have hit him out of rage.

The general couldn't stopped the incident from spreading but he didn't care since no one could over ride him.

Unfortunately, Jing Yuan knew this too well and (y/n) shortly found out that her new role is being the personal assistant of the mighty general.

The other cloud knights congratulated her with jealously hidden in their voices but seeing the evaluating look that Jing Yuan gave her on the first day made her feel like something was off.

"(y/n), do you have any questions?"

The question brought her back to earth and she stuttered on her reply.

"No, sir."

"No need for such formalities, just call by my name."

(y/n) should feel honoured to have that privilege but seeing the unnerving smile of Jing Yuan just seem like a red flag.

(y/n) could only keep it to herself so she sucked it up and decided to play the role till the very end.

The weeks passed but (y/n) gradually noticed a change towards how others treated her especially the male cloud knights along with Jing Yuan assigning her more tasks that required her to do it alone while he was away on his duties.

"Um lieutenant, is this how general Jing Yuan treated his past assistants?"

"I don't know, you're the only one that I met." And with that, Yanqing waved off her concerns.

(y/n) felt like screaming inside at the possibility that she may be his first one.

why?

(y/n) couldn't get her answer without it backfiring so once again, she accepted her fate and just did whatever Jing Yuan wanted like an obedient doll.

The general accidentally revealed his intentions when he found his adorable assistant slumped over his desk in his private study since he have been working her to the bone lately.

Jing Yuan should have stopped considering he have driven her exhaustion but he much prefer her to feel burnout than mingling with others.

The slight guilt still didn't stopped him from approaching the desk to swing his jacket across her shoulders but he took it to another step along with pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"You're all mine, (y/n)."

(y/n) eyes shot open and she automatically spring out of the chair to create distance from the enstranged man.

"General, what do you mean by that?" The girl may been shooting him a fierce look but her voice slightly trembled.

Jing Yuan could knocked her out and returned her to her sleeping quarters to play it off as a bad nigh-

ah, fuck it. (y/n) would connect the dots one day.

with that in mind, the general closed the gap between them and grasped her face to make her look him in the eye.

"I meant exactly what I said, you can never leave me."

(y/n) let out a gulp at the sinister look in his eyes along with his deadly tone.

but Jing Yuan prefer it this way and (y/n) would eventually warm up to his one day.

at least this way, she would never end up like his mentor since Jing Yuan would chain her to him side.

[rocketinthesky]

We’re not meant to be, but my heart refuses to listen

Max already found his soulmate, and is in a committed relationship with her. But why is his heart defying fate and pulling him back into George’s orbit?

- A Soulmate AU (GAX)

-fluff, slight angst, happy ending, canon divergent, rated Teen and up

Part I

(Read Part II next) (OR read on ao3)

Max’s eyes drift over to George’s wrist, an intricately inked tree without any leaves peeking out through the long sleeves of his suit. They’re in another post-race press meeting, joined by Oscar, Carlos and Pierre. He’s mostly zoning out, which is easy to do when the reporters finally decide to take pity on him and ask the other racers questions for a change. He fiddles with his own left sleeve, skin cold under his fingertips as he runs them over it. It feels numb, the dark outline of a rose on his skin. It didn’t used to feel that way, once.

It’s not as mortifying as the first few times were, when George catches him staring. It’s both disarming and electrifying when that camera ready smile of George’s softens into something more genuine—reserved—as if Max and him are currently sharing a secret only they’re privy too.

Max can feel the automatic, almost desperate, way his own mouth pulls into a matching grin. And the resulting fit of giggles between them attracts the attention of the other racers and reporters.

It’s easy enough to dodge the question of what’s making the two laugh like a pair of schoolchildren when Pierre butts in with a joke, and it gives George the opportunity to lean in closer to Max, mics distant enough to not pick up the almost airy whisper of George’s voice as he asks, “What were you staring at my hands for, mate?”

Max stiffens at first before quickly relaxing when he registers the teasing undertones to George’s question. He deliberates it, thinks the logical thing to do would be to make an excuse or a quip, make them both laugh at the ordeal. But the curiosity has been gnawing at Max’s psyche long enough that he can’t help the way the question rolls off his tongue, relieved in their freedom.

“Did you find your soulmate yet?”

George seems to freeze at his question, the playful grin on his face tightening. Max immediately feels guilty for asking such a prying question. They’re friends, but they’re not quite close enough to delve into these topics. Questions about each other’s personal lives always stayed on the surface level, never breaching family.

Max might have just crossed a line in their already fragile, somewhat undefined relationship. They’re friends in a broader sense. They never hang out alone together, they barely text each other outside of the usual fire emoji react on each others’ instagram stories and obligatory congratulatory messages. But then there’s also this…tension, Max thinks, that’s always surrounding the air between them. A spark crackling down Max’s spine when they meet eyes across the room or accidentally brush shoulders. The heat of George’s body branding his skin whenever they pat each other’s shoulders in friendly conversations.

There’s that numbness where his own soulmate mark lies, a permanent reminder of Max’s failure to be normal, to be less selfish.

George evokes in him a thrill he’s only gotten before on the podium, above everyone else. The champion of the fucking world.

“I did,” George says, stretching the word out. The emphasis there feels past-tense—as if there’s a but there.

Max wants to press the matter, but knows not to. Only shrugs. “Cool.”

George’s face relaxes, the corners of his eyes softening before he leans in close enough that his breath scorches the shell of Max’s ear. “Didn’t quite work out, though.”

Max holds down the shiver from wracking his body outwardly, but he can feel the goosebumps rising on his flesh.

This knowledge shouldn’t excite him. He’s with his own soulmate, for fuck’s sake.

When George pulls back, corners of his eyes crinkling, Max knows for certain by the battering of his heart that he’s fucked.

Fate already gave him everything he could possibly want. But Max hungers for more.

Trying my hand at a trope i’ve been wanting to write for a long time, and what better ship than Gax! My first foray into writing for f1 rpf so i am very very nervous lol i’m still pretty new to the fandom. Feedback is very very appreciated, i’d love to know your opinions on this if you managed to stumble upon this drabble! I do plan on this having a part two, and potentially more depending on how many it takes to finish the story. Hopefully not too long lol. Hope you enjoyed <33

[mya-valentine]

Hi, I read your “making out with Dabi headcanons” and I just wanted to ask if it would be possible to do one for Spinner?

Headcanon: Making Out With Spinner

A/N: Sorry if this took awhile 😔 college is kicking my ass right now

Making out with Spinner would be an intense yet surprisingly tender experience. His rough, reptilian features, covered in scales, give his skin a unique texture, adding a distinct physical sensation to every touch. Despite his tough exterior and the prejudice he’s faced, Spinner would be a bit shy and awkward at first. He’s not used to close intimacy, so there’s a sense of hesitance, like he’s unsure how to handle the situation. But once he lets his guard down, he becomes deeply passionate, fully immersing himself in the moment.

His kisses would be slow, deliberate, and slightly rough around the edges. You’d feel the contrast between his sharp, pointed teeth and the warmth of his lips. There’s a sense of vulnerability as he tries to control his instincts, careful not to accidentally hurt you. Spinner's large hands would be surprisingly gentle, cradling your face or resting on your waist, as though he’s scared to hold on too tightly. You’d sense his devotion and the unspoken emotions he doesn’t quite know how to express in words.

He might not be the most experienced or graceful, but there’s something undeniably sweet and earnest about Spinner when he’s with someone he trusts. Making out with him would feel like peeling away layers of his guarded nature, revealing a soft side he rarely shows to anyone else.

Making out with Spinner would be an experience filled with raw emotion and intensity, but also a level of care that he rarely shows. At first, he’d be stiff, unsure of how to approach something so intimate. His awkwardness would be endearing, his sharp eyes darting between you and the space around, trying to figure out what to do without fumbling too much. He’s not used to feeling desired, so every touch, every graze of your lips, would be met with a sense of awe and uncertainty. But the moment he realizes you’re as into it as he is, he lets go a little.

His kisses would be deep, almost desperate—like he’s making up for lost time, or trying to make the moment last forever. His scaled skin, cool to the touch, contrasts with the warmth and passion he brings into every kiss. There’s a roughness in the way he holds you, his hands firm on your body, but they’re not careless. His grip would tighten as his confidence grows, pulling you closer, but he’s constantly checking himself to make sure he’s not being too forceful. Spinner is all about balance; he’s never had someone like this before, and he doesn’t want to mess it up.

He’d be unpracticed, maybe a little messy, but there’s something thrilling about it—how raw and unfiltered his emotions are. Spinner’s sharp teeth might graze your lips occasionally, sending little shocks through your body, but he’s careful not to hurt you. You can feel the tension in him, the way he holds back just enough to stay in control, but there’s an animalistic edge to him, a wildness that makes every kiss unpredictable.

There’s a sense of devotion in the way he leans into you, like he’s pouring everything he can’t say into the kiss. His breath would grow heavy, and you’d feel the weight of his body pressing against you more as his desire overtakes his hesitation. Spinner’s tail, something he’s usually self-conscious about, might curl around your leg or rest against your side, adding to the closeness of the moment. It’s his way of showing how much he trusts you, allowing you to see all of him, even the parts he usually hides or feels insecure about.

And when you pull back, the way Spinner looks at you is full of unspoken emotion—gratitude, disbelief, and something deeper, like he’s found something in you he didn’t think he deserved. There would be a sense of quiet intensity, a lingering connection that stays even after the kissing stops, making every moment with Spinner feel more special and intimate than he ever thought possible.

.

.

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Masterlist

[chaosfairy18]

The final nail

For everyone who is here for my newsies writing this is sadly not that hi

Also on ao3

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He only really comes back to himself after getting home, after greeting his Dad absentmindedly and lying on the bed, taking in everything that is familiar after a night of foreign experiences.

For all his teasing and flirting he hadn't thought Fadel would crumble in a storage room next to the support group - not that he'd expected to be taken to a hotel, but Fadel breaking apart so fully was new, especially after he’d resisted him so ferociously before.

Style had had his fair share of random hook ups and one-night stands, he had been ready to tell Kant he had won and everything was great, he'd won the bet and the car. But he was wrong.  

Even just the small break in Fadel's exterior he'd gotten showed him a lot he hadn't expected.

He'd expected to be hurt and not even feel good during the encounter, the dozens of times he'd annoyed the man being thrown back in a 'be careful what you ask for or it might become true' moment, but for all his anger and annoyance Fadel had been soft, almost gentle, surprising Style so much with it in the first minute that he just let everything happen to him, grinning as he finally found how utterly he’d affected the other.

Sure, Fadel'd thrown him around a bit, too, but everything that could have hurt him he moved deliberately, knowing how to not do damage.

He knew how to hurt but he hadn't - except for the end where he'd punched Style and run. And even there he felt like that was out of fear again, running from his emotions and Style. Because no man could fuck him like that and not feel anything.

And after weeks of more or less stalking, that was what really got Style. A glimpse at the soft heart beating under glares and punches. He'd expected Fadel to be a possessive, jealous, controlling lover, and maybe he was that, too, but much more than that he'd seen a sliver of how he'd be for someone he'd truly lay himself bare for. How much he needed touch, how much he yearned for another body close to his, for someone to tear down the walls around him.

How much he'd do to fulfil every wish and want of whoever would be lucky enough to be called his.

And that intrigued Style more than the rush of adrenaline he got from the danger that Fadel posed with every glare, every punch he'd seen him dish out after that accidental host club meeting. He’d always been attractive, even as he lectured him for texting and driving, and seeing him in the host club – before and after, beating men up without even breaking a sweat – was when Style was thoroughly convinced to pull through with this, just to be able to say he had wrapped a man that attractive around his finger.

And hell, even the sauna, looking back on it there were little cracks in Fadel’s walls, and somehow Style had teared them down enough to see emotions he’d never expected in that conflicting man.

Someone dangerous, someone who protected what he loved, someone who hated being close to others but needed it more than anything.

It worked him up so much he couldn't even sleep, missing the early jogging run he'd forced himself to just to get under Fadel's skin.

And even as he told his father that absence made the heart grow fonder, he wasn't quite sure what to do.

Style wasn't done yet, the bet had said not to sleep with him, but to make him fall in love, but making a man that was possessive and harsh fall for a pretty little thing he could use for a while and making a romantic behind giant walls of ice fall was a big difference. The first was fun while it lasted, no deeper feelings, just hungry passion consuming until the fire burnt out eventually, but the second was a commitment, for both of them, as Style wouldn’t just be able to ignore the feelings he now knew to exist.

And he wasn't yet sure if he wanted to put the final nails into Fadel's coffin.

Trying to get his mind off things, he went to the shops to buy groceries, not even in the mood to haggle with the vendors he’d known for most of his life or that he’d at least fixed their cars off with his dad.

“Oi, Style!”, yelled the auntie from the butcher’s shop that had thankfully agreed to take him on as a fake intern. He put on his charming smile, knowing she enjoyed seeing it too.

“Morning, auntie.”

“That handsome guy you were after asked for you this morning!”, she told him giddily. “Seemed almost sad you weren’t here, even though he was always so annoyed when he bought things, eh?”

That did surprise Style. He’d expected Fadel to pull even farther back, lock every feeling he might have away so it would never see the light of day, throw it in the Marianna Trench somewhere or shoot it to the next galaxy. Hell, he’d thought Fadel would be happy Style hadn’t managed to pull himself to go jogging or to sell him meat.

“He’s such a nice young man, I hope things will work out for you.”, the auntie continued as Style got out of his thoughts.

Not able to hide the grin on his face, he thanked her and gave her a quick hug. “I know they will!” And with that Style ran back home to shove the groceries into his dad’s arms and then drove to Heart Burger, already hearing the final nails getting hammered in Fadel’s and his own coffin.

There was no backing out now, no matter if Fadel pretended to not want him or not.

Standing at the running track, Fadel was almost sure to hear Style’s annoying voice, probably ribbing him about how he’d finally given in yesterday and how he didn’t get to just ‘nail and bail’ him like that or whatever other nonsense Style usually had pouring out of his mouth.

But no matter how long Fadel waited and warmed himself up, no tall guy with a cropped sport’s shirt showed up to annoy him.

He’d gotten what he wanted, and now he doesn’t need your attention anymore.

Biting the inside of his lip, Fadel started running his laps, only concentrating on counting them, no thoughts allowed about anything else. He should be grateful his exercise was peaceful again, quiet, and with no one to ‘cheer him on’ while just turning all the attention on him. He’d already gotten all his pent up frustrations out hacking into the earth last night, he didn’t need to think even another second about Style if he didn’t show up anyways. The mechanic should just stay out of his thoughts forever, preferably.

But as determined as he was to not think about him, Style also wasn’t at the butcher’s stand, popping out from behind the counter to tell him about some ‘super good fresh meat’ they’d gotten that he almost certainly had no clue about, and Fadel almost wanted to just but his things and leave, but something still urged him to ask the shop owner where the mechanic was.

“He’s not showing up anymore.”, she’d said and then more about how he was good for business and a sweet talker. That he sure was, having talked and talked and talked his way into Fadel’s routines, and now that he’d succeeded in his endeavours, he had clearly went on to bother the next person he wanted to conquer.

He got everything he wanted from Fadel after all, everything about being ‘a man devoted for love’ and ‘looking for a boyfriend’ had very clearly been bullshit anyways, so he shouldn’t be surprised. But after weeks of hearing that overtly cheery voice first thing in the morning on every stop he did, it was still lonely, going back to Heart Burger.

But now he could concentrate on his actual job again: keeping Bison out of trouble and killing whoever Mother told them to.

And, at least for the next few hours, making burgers, steaks and pasta while also taking orders because Bison wasn’t showing up on time for spending some more time with Kant, of course.

The door opened and Fadel didn’t even look up, just told Bison: “You’re back. How was it? Everything went well?”

But instead of Bison rounding the counter to stand in front of him, it was his personal purgatory in a crop top. “I’m baaack.” He slapped his hands down on the counter, looking far too smug for Fadel’s liking. “Did you miss me?”

Looking for someone who wasn’t there and asking after them probably accounted for ‘missing them’ but Style wouldn’t find out about that over Fadel’s dead body. The mechanic had gotten what he wanted and he should disappear from his life as quickly as he’d wormed his way in. “We’re not open, why are you here?”, he said, looking down at his prep work again.

“I wasn’t going to come… but an auntie told me someone’s been asking for me.” And of course his tiny moment of weakness had come back to bite him in the ass already. “Missed me, huh?”

“Missed you my ass. You annoy the hell out of me and mess up my routine.” That at least was true, no matter what had happened yesterday. Style must have been the most annoying person on earth and Fadel still hadn’t understood how he even stopped himself from shooting the other just to shut him up. And with him, every part of his day took a lot longer, if only because he had some terribly cheery voice he had to ignore.

Next, Style admitted he had been at fault for the punch he’d received yesterday – which was a rare moment of insight from him as well as completely true. But of course, that couldn’t be all he had to say.

“It doesn’t matter how scary you are.” Style’s face turned into one of his annoying, almost a bit insane looking grins. “I’m hooked.”

And Fadel could do nothing but look back at him, an eyebrow raised. If only he knew just how dangerous Fadel could be, he wouldn’t be saying that. But maybe if he showed him again and again just how deathly being around him could be, even someone as stubborn as Style would learn to leave him alone before death actually found him.