#and the list of things i already want to draw with him

[thatonegrimm]

heey, Grimm!! so, i haven't seen any of reqs like this, but.. can i get my male!reader x baby saja spicy headcannons with baby as the bottom?

Heeyy~ Thanks so much for the request! 💌

It’s written with male!reader in mind, though honestly… it came out a little GN-leaning in tone by the end. Still, I hope it hits the vibe you were hoping for—I had a blast with it!

🔞 Baby x Male!Reader NSFW Headcanons MDNI

Male!Reader x Bottom!Baby Saja

He only bottoms when he decides to. Doesn’t act shy, doesn’t ask. He just chooses you. Pulls you in close, meets your eyes, and gives you permission not submission. He has a spine of steel and eyes that strip people bare. It’s rare he lets anyone under him, let alone over him. So if he draws you into his space quiet, deliberate and stares like he’s weighing every inch of you, it means he’s already decided. He just wants to see if you’re ready.

He watches you the whole time. No whining, no begging. Just a steady stare and sharp exhales. Baby doesn’t wiggle in your lap or act coy. But if you push, if you challenge him, match his tension with stillness and keep your eyes locked he’ll kiss you like it’s a fight. He’ll drag you down on top of him like he’s daring you to lose control.

Not vocal, but not silent. He doesn’t moan much just grits his teeth, swears under his breath, hisses through clenched jaws. Say the right thing against his throat and you might get a real sound out of him.

Eye contact is everything. His mouth is hot and fierce when he kisses you, but once things go deeper especially when he’s spread out beneath you, chest rising slow, he barely speaks. No babbling. No cries. Just ragged breaths, the occasional tsk of frustration if you hesitate, and a quiet curse when you hit just right. He watches you through all of it. It’s intense.

He tests you constantly. Shifts his hips to throw you off rhythm. Smirks if your grip falters. But if your hands stay firm, your voice stays low, your focus never wavers, he gives in without a word.

When he breaks, it’s devastating. He doesn’t cry out, he trembles. Head tipped back, jaw slack, eyes half-lidded and proud even when wrecked. You’ll never forget what he looks like in that moment. And neither will he.

His body’s responsive, but he won’t let it show unless you earn it. You won’t see him fall apart fast. But the tension in his thighs? The way his hands curl into the sheets? The hitch in his breath when you whisper his name against his neck? It all builds. And when he does come apart, it’s silent at first — then a deep, ragged sound pulled from his chest like it cost him something.

AN: I found this ridiculously easy to write, lol. It’s not NSFW in the super explicit sense, but it definitely gives a solid tease—just enough tension without getting overly graphic. I don’t see Baby as a natural bottom, so the dynamic leans more into him letting you rather than anything traditionally "subby," which I think I interpreted right! 👀

M-List

[therogueflame]

A Wanting Thing

hi sweetlings,

I am sad. so i wrote sad. it isnt super long. its raining. light smut. based on this request. love you bye.

requests are currently open!

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Summary: In the quiet corners of court, a girl who knows how to be unseen becomes the only place a broken king can rest.

WC: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, light smut, no use of y/n, angst, maybe a little bit of hurt/comfort??

King Aegon II x Courtier!Reader

MDNI!!!

The feast ends slowly, like a candle left to gutter out. Servants sweep in to collect the bones and fruit rinds, laughter thins in the corridors, and courtiers begin to vanish by pairs and trios, tugging cloaks tight and lowering their voices into something private. You remain where you are—hands folded neatly, eyes cast downward, posture practiced. It is always easier to stay a little too long than to be seen leaving too soon.

The tapestry by the eastern wall hides a draft. You’ve learned to angle yourself just beside it, far enough to avoid the cold but near enough that it looks like you have a reason to linger. A piece of ribbon slips from someone’s sleeve and flutters to the floor. No one notices.

You aren’t waiting for anything. You never are. But it’s easier to be still than to cross the room under a hundred invisible eyes. Better to appear lost in thought, or struck by some delicate melancholy. Better, even, to seem lonely than eager.

Your wine is gone. Your feet ache in your shoes. You’ve already made your curtsy to the Queen and offered polite nothings to the heir of House Targaryen. There’s no reason to still be here. And yet.

You hear him before you see him. A scuff of boots. The soft drag of silk against stone. You turn just enough to glimpse motion in the far corner of the hall—unsteady, unguarded. He appears like something that was never meant to be witnessed, stumbling into view with his hair disheveled and a look on his face like he’s been chasing something that doesn’t want to be caught.

The prince. No—king now. Aegon. Crowned, anointed, toasted until the wine turned to vinegar.

You straighten on instinct. Your hands smooth your skirts even as your mind catches up to what your body already knows: you are not meant to be alone with him.

He sees you and stops.

His mouth moves a second before any sound escapes. “You,” he says, too loud in the hush. Then, blinking slowly, he adds, “You have a kind mouth.”

You stare. The words hang there, strange and soft and terribly human. He winces almost immediately, dragging a hand down his face.

“I meant…” He frowns, shakes his head, sways slightly where he stands. “I didn’t mean anything.”

You glance toward the corridor. “Your Grace,” you murmur, courtly and careful. “Perhaps you ought to retire for the night.”

That should be the end of it. You should step aside and let him pass, should let the silence refill the space where he stood.

But he doesn’t move. He looks at you like he’s forgotten what the word ought means. His voice drops, quieter this time. “Don’t go.”

There’s a beat of hesitation in you, long and quiet. He is not a good man. Everyone knows that. But he says it like he’s asking for something he isn’t used to receiving. He says it like he’s afraid you will.

“Please,” he says again. “Don’t leave me. Not yet.”

You can’t refuse outright. Not without risk. Not without drawing attention. And he doesn’t reach for you, doesn’t touch you, doesn’t sway closer. He just stands there looking a little lost. A little ruined.

So you incline your head, careful and formal. “As you wish, Your Grace.”

Something in him exhales. He doesn’t smile, exactly, but his shoulders soften. And then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he sinks down along the wall to sit, his legs folding beneath him with all the grace of a marionette whose strings have gone slack.

He stays there, breathing like he’s forgotten how to do it properly. You remain upright, unsure what’s expected. He doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t look at you. Just rests his head against the stone and closes his eyes, a man trying to vanish into something colder than himself.

You wait a few minutes longer. Long enough to convince yourself he’s fallen asleep. Or pretending to. Long enough that leaving feels less like a refusal and more like mercy.

You don’t wake him. You don’t touch him. You simply gather your skirts and step away, slow and quiet, until the torchlight no longer falls on either of you.

By morning, you half-convince yourself it didn’t happen.

He hadn’t said much. He hadn’t done much. No one saw. No one would ask. There would be no reason for it to mean anything. Drunken kings speak to strange girls in corridors all the time. You were just the closest warm body.

And still, as the days pass, you catch yourself glancing toward shadows. Listening for footsteps that don’t come. You tell yourself not to be foolish. That he’s already forgotten. That you should too.

You don’t expect to see him again.

The first time, it had felt like a fluke. A mistake of timing, of drink, of loneliness. But a few nights later, in the gardens, you catch movement from the corner of your eye and turn to find him again. Less drunk this time. Still not steady.

You dip your head. You murmur a greeting. He says nothing at first. Just walks a slow, awkward circle around the nearest fountain and then sits on the edge like it hurts to stand. You don’t ask what he wants.

Eventually, he speaks. “It’s quiet here.”

You nod.

He stays a while. Doesn’t talk much. Doesn’t try to be charming. When he leaves, he doesn’t say goodnight.

It happens again the next week. You’re in the library this time, seated at the end of a long, empty table, pretending to read a book you’ve already finished. He appears with no warning, hair still damp from the bath and eyes rimmed with something brittle. His steps echo too loudly between the shelves. You stand quickly, half-curtsy, and begin to excuse yourself, but he shakes his head.

“I won’t bother you,” he says.

He sits in the next chair over and folds his arms on the table. Doesn’t look at you. Just breathes. Slow, uneven, like every inhale costs something. After a long time, he asks if you believe in fate. Then he asks if you think some people are born wrong.

You give no answers. You don’t think he really wants them.

He comes to you again outside your chambers, hours before sunrise, shoulders hunched and eyes glassy. You don’t let him in. You step into the hall instead, and sit beside him on the floor with your nightrobe drawn tightly across your lap. He doesn’t speak. Just leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes like he’s too tired to carry whatever he’s been holding. Your knee touches his. Neither of you moves.

It becomes a pattern. Something no one mentions. You don’t tell anyone, of course. And he — well, he never remembers enough detail to be believed. Or maybe he remembers everything and just pretends not to.

He always finds you when no one else is looking. In alcoves, in stairwells, by the window that faces the east courtyard where the roses bloom longest. You stop asking how he knows where you’ll be. You suspect he doesn’t. He simply drifts until something pulls him toward you.

He’s never the same twice. Some nights he’s almost lighthearted, laughing too loudly at nothing, draping himself along benches and mumbling half-thoughts with slurred affection. Other nights he’s quiet to the point of vanishing, gaze distant, hands clenched in his lap like he doesn’t trust them. Once, you find him already waiting for you, curled up on the cold stone beside the garden wall, half-asleep and shivering.

You sit beside him. You place a hand gently against his back. He doesn’t flinch.

He doesn’t ask for anything explicit. He never leers, never corners. It’s not desire, not like that. He just wants to be close. To touch, to be touched. Sometimes he rests his head in your lap and lets the silence stretch until you almost forget how strange it is. Sometimes he holds your hand without looking at you. Sometimes he just watches your fingers as if they might reveal something he’s never been told.

One night, he asks if he can braid your hair. His hands are clumsy, and you feel the strands tug too tight, but you let him. He doesn’t say why. You don’t ask.

Another time, he traces the line of your collarbone with one knuckle, barely touching. You turn your face away. He apologizes. You don’t know what for.

You start brushing his hair when he lays his head down. At first it feels strange, too familiar, too soft, but it calms him. You smooth it behind his ear with slow fingers. Some nights he leans into your lap without speaking at all. Some nights he mumbles something half-formed and impossible to answer. A question about his mother. A memory he isn’t sure was real. A wish you can tell he never said out loud until now.

You learn to tell what kind of night it is by the way he knocks, if he knocks at all. Two quiet taps means he’s ashamed. One hard knock means he’s already had too much. Sometimes he doesn’t knock at all, just appears in the doorway and waits for you to look at him.

You still call him Your Grace. He never calls you anything.

What you have is not courtship. It is not scandal. It is not power. It is a man trying to disappear into someone else’s quiet, and a woman too careful to ask what he is trying to leave behind.

So you give him what you can. A place to rest. A place to fall apart without being seen doing it.

And when he leaves each time, you stay exactly where you are, like nothing ever happened.

It goes on longer than you expect.

Nights drift into weeks. He comes and goes. Sometimes he is quiet. Sometimes he asks you questions you don’t know how to answer. Sometimes he just lies beside you with his eyes open and his hands still, like your presence alone is the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.

You do not name it. You do not let yourself.

And then one night, it shifts.

It starts with a knock. Not soft this time. Not polite. Two firm raps that wake you from half-sleep. You rise and open the door before you can think to hesitate.

He is standing there in a thin tunic, laces undone, boots half-pulled on. His hair is damp and curling at the edges. He looks up at you with a strange, empty kind of urgency in his face.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he says. “I know I shouldn’t.”

You say nothing.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

You step aside. He enters like a man walking into a confessional.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands in the center of the room, shifting his weight, staring at the floor.

“There was a council meeting,” he says. His voice is too quiet. “It was bad. They argued over every word, every number, every line in every letter. They argued like I wasn’t even there.”

He laughs, but it’s hollow. “Maybe I wasn’t.”

You cross the room slowly. You reach for the clasps of his coat.

He doesn’t stop you. But he doesn’t help either.

You take your time. Each tie, each fold, each soaked layer. His shirt is damp with sweat. His hands hang at his sides, clenched once, then relaxed again. He watches you carefully, but doesn’t speak.

You touch his jaw. Then his collarbone. Then the curve of his wrist.

He exhales, sharp and quiet, when your fingers brush his ribs.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he says.

“I know.”

You guide him to the bed.

He follows, slow and uncertain, and sits when you do. He hesitates again. You open your arms.

He moves into them like he has forgotten what comfort feels like. His knees fold under him. His head bows low. His breath shakes against your shoulder.

You press your lips to his temple. He gasps. Not from surprise, but something else — like it aches to be treated with care.

When he kisses you, it’s hesitant. Too soft. Like he’s afraid to get it wrong. You kiss him back and feel his body relax, only slightly, only for a moment.

His hands are unsure. He touches your side, then stops. You take his other hand and guide it to your back, then to your waist, and he follows like it’s something he’s never been taught but wants to learn. When you pull him gently into your lap, his breath catches again.

He asks if it’s alright.

You nod.

He asks again.

You whisper yes.

He moves with care, with clumsy reverence. His mouth finds yours again, firmer now, though still searching. He trembles under your touch. Every time your fingers move lower, he pauses as if to ask. You let him. You take his jaw in your hand and steady him.

When he finally settles between your legs, he presses his forehead to your shoulder and goes still for a moment. Then you feel him kiss the curve of your neck, and everything in him softens.

It is slow. Almost shy. Nothing practiced. Nothing claimed. He touches you like he’s afraid the moment will collapse under him if he moves too quickly. And when you touch him in return, when you guide him, gently, to where you want him most, he groans against your throat, the sound half-broken, half-sweet.

He hides his face in your neck the whole time.

You keep your hands in his hair.

When it’s over, he doesn’t move. Just clings to you like you are the only thing left in the world that hasn’t asked him to be something else.

He whispers, “I want to be good for you.”

You don’t answer.

You let him fall asleep in your arms, breath steadying against your skin. His body is warm and still against yours, his hand curled against your ribs like he meant to hold on and never let go. You stay like that until the candles burn low, until the quiet feels heavier than sleep. There is no promise made. No whispered confession. Only closeness. Only breath.

Eventually, your eyes close too.

In the morning, the light feels colder.

You rise before the sun and help him dress. Neither of you speaks above a whisper. His fingers tremble slightly when they reach for the ties of his cloak. You smooth his collar and step back without meeting his eyes. When he leaves, he does not look over his shoulder.

Later, you see him across the hall. He stands beside his Queen, shoulders square, gaze distant. He wears a ring he did not have before. He does not look your way.

You speak in courtesies when you meet. You still curtsy. You still smile when others are watching. You keep your posture straight, your tone pleasant, your hands folded neatly at your waist. You keep everything else to yourself.

But the court is not blind.

You tell yourself it’s imagined. That no one would care enough to notice.

Until one day, they do.

It begins with laughter. Not directed at you, not clearly, but close enough that your name seems to echo beneath it. One lady leans toward another and murmurs something behind her hand. A third glances your way with wide, surprised eyes, then quickly looks down. You are left standing in the corridor with a tray of fruit in your hands and the sick, crawling feeling that someone has just peeled back your skin.

You keep walking. You do not look back.

The next day, no one sits beside you at prayers.

Nothing is said aloud. No accusations, no pointed questions, no rumors loud enough to catch. Only a slow, creeping shift in the way the court moves around you. The Queen’s greetings become shorter. Your name is spoken less often. When it is, it comes with a pause just long enough to sting. You catch someone watching you from across the hall with a look you cannot quite name. Curiosity, maybe. Or pity.

It does not matter what they think. But it does.

You begin to correct yourself in small ways. You rise earlier. You wear simpler gowns. You offer to help with ledgers, with letters, with things that make you seem useful and quiet and forgettable. You speak less. You smile more. You stop going to the garden after dusk.

You start locking your door again.

None of it seems to reach him. Or maybe it does, and he does not know how to carry it.

You feel the change before you understand it. One evening passes without him. Then another. By the third night, you begin to sit with your hands folded too tightly in your lap. You wait in the usual places. You light a lamp and leave the door cracked open. Nothing comes.

You ask no one. You say nothing.

On the fourth night, you break.

You stop a servant in the corridor and speak carefully, like it is only a passing thought. “Has the King been seen today?”

The girl hesitates. “He was near the wine cellars, my lady. Before dawn. I think. That’s all I know.”

She curtsies. She walks away.

He is gone.

You do not sleep. You lie awake with your hand pressed over your chest, waiting for a sound that never comes. You tell yourself he has vanished before. But not like this. Not after. Not without a word.

He returns on the fifth day.

You find him already there, just before nightfall, curled on the floor near the foot of your bed. His cloak is damp and streaked with mud. The hem is torn. His nails are dark with dirt. His hair clings to one side of his face, and his skin is pale with exhaustion. He does not move when you enter. Does not lift his head. Just lies there, one arm bent awkwardly beneath him, the other stretched outward like he meant to reach for something and forgot what it was.

You cross the room slowly. You kneel beside him. When you touch his shoulder, he flinches—but only for a moment. Then he turns toward you, face slack with exhaustion, and his mouth opens like he means to speak.

Nothing comes.

You guide him up carefully. His body is heavier than it should be. He does not resist, but he does not help either. He moves like someone half-asleep, or half-broken. You sit him on the edge of the bed. His hands rest uselessly in his lap.

You begin to unfasten his cloak. The smell of smoke and horse sweat clings to the fabric. You peel it back slowly, one tie at a time. His shirt sticks to his skin. You are careful. You say nothing.

He watches your hands the entire time.

You bring the basin to him and begin to clean his hands. There is blood at his knuckles, grime under his fingernails, something dried and crusted in his palm. You take your time. You press a cloth to his skin with gentle pressure. He does not look away from your face.

When you are done, you draw the blanket back and help him lie down.

He does not ask to be held. But he looks at you like he does not know where else to go. So you lie beside him, and when you do, his arms come around you with sudden force. His grip is desperate but hesitant, like he is still waiting to be told no.

He presses his face against your stomach and breathes in hard and shallow.

When he speaks, it is almost soundless. “Are you going to leave me too?”

You keep your hand in his hair.

He exhales shakily. “Everyone does.”

You do not say the words he wants to hear. You do not give him promises.

You give him presence. You give him stillness.

This. Now.

And when his fingers go slack and his body goes still and sleep finally takes him, you know he will not wake crying.

Tonight, at least, he will not dream of failing.

[greenliar]

gee guys i think my man might have body dysmorphia the way his "powerful" versions are portrayed like . this. lot to think about

[evilkaeya]

finished reading no home. I don't think I'll ever be the same person every again.

[numberonetribble]

Stuck at my mom's house until the 27th, can't finish the comic I was working on until then :( here's a rough Cowboy!pinup sketch of Bumblebee and some Breakbee + Piston angst:

[sysig]

Challenge level: Impossible (Patreon)

[mcybree]

Ok ok ok I'm not Tryna start discourse but bluestars prophecy was my first ever warriors book and bluestar will always be my favourite so I'm gonna make some counterpoints to you about her being a Smajor character

bluestar has always been led by an intense loyalty and dedication to those she loves and cares for - this includes her mum, her sister, her clan, eventually Firepaw when he joins the clan, and she has a VERY strong moral compass when it comes to doing the right thing - when she sees thistleclaw teaching tigerpaw to hurt a then baby scourge she very much discourages it and is against it

Afaik scott is Not like that, he doesn't have an emotional or love-driven moral code, he does things because they're smart decisions in the long term or because he wants to. Granted I havent seen a ton of his stuff but I have seen his limited life and 3rd life perspectives and he is very much a singular team player there, there to look after himself and well if people align with him that's great he's got allies (jimmy and Martyn) but he won't go out of his way to care for them

Bluestars defiance of starclan in the first series is BECAUSE she gave herself to them and what the warrior code demanded so much - yes she broke clan rules by having kids with crookedstar but she did everything in her power to make sure they'd have a happy life and felt terrible that thrushpelt was willing to say they were his to save her reputation. She didn't do it out of a selfish want, she only ever wanted to help her clan and those she loved, and her becoming clan leader is emblematic of that want. When she rejects starclan so wholeheartedly in the first series it's because THINGS KEEP GOING WRONG WHEN SHES TRIED SO HARD TO STOP THEM FROM DOING THAT - starclan has never cared about the sacrifices she made to keep her loved ones and clan safe, she lost her mother, her sister, her kits, her mate, literally everything, and things STILL KEEP GETTING WORSE. it's not a demand that she deserves to have everything good, it's a cry for help that shouldn't something go right after she's tried so hard???

C!Scott isn't like that. He puts himself above others and inherently believes he will get the best if he just plays his cards right, and he is good at it, he's very competent at lasting a long time in life series and getting what he wants - the ruthlessness of gem driven by desperation kills him in secret life, Martyn's complete fucking about face kills him in limited life, and I'm pretty sure it's etho who gets him out in 3rd life by luck. He doesn't plan to look after the ones he cares about, because he cares about himself first and foremost. Yeah you can argue when he doesn't get what he wants he gets annoyed, but his is less of a 'why don't I get this don't I deserve it' and more of a 'oh fuck this didn't work. Ok new plan double down on getting what I want by appeasing to people cos they're easy to read and therefore account for'

I don't doubt Scott would make a bluestar adjacent character if he made a warrior cats oc BUT his character would honestly be closer to darktail or ashfur than bluestar and that's that on that.

(sorry you activated 13 year old me's unskippable cutscene sjdjsjsjja this isnt meant to be a serious argument I just love bluestar a lot and love talking about her)

OKAY 1. this is fucking awesome thank you 2. i am going to do something new and exciting (advocate for scott instead of beating him to death with sticks) because unfortunately this bluestar info has only made me believe she is a smajor character even more.

As a general note when I talk about smajor characters as a collective here I’m referring to characters more in the realm of esmp/traffic/rats/pirates/etc, less vampire scott or necromancer scott who are intended to be villainous.

Scott characters tend to operate under a “If I am not a Good Person I may as well die” rule, and consequently abide by a strict moral code to keep themselves feeling clean. For instance: traffic Scott will never go back on his word, he will avoid dishonesty, and he won’t take from others unless he is sure that he can repay them. He will never betray his seasonal primary ally (even when they betray him first), and will often give people things just because they asked him nicely. He stakes a lot of his own identity on this, because it is through being a “good person” that he justifies his superiority (and, by extension, his own existence); in his mind he deserves the best and *is* the best because he is such a good person. When things don’t go his way, he thinks he doesn’t deserve it because he has been nothing but good, so he tries to place a reason. He often assumes that somebody must “have a vendetta” against him, even if this somebody is the world (see: him asking if limlife episode 1 boogeyman is some kind of joke played on him for not giving in to the boogey curse in Last Life.) which is very Bluestar to me, convinced that her misfortunes are a divine punishment.

This is all to say that Scott does have a strict moral code and deep sense of loyalty. Being a “good person” and devoted partner in the ways he understands it are so ingrained into what he is that I think he definitely has the capacity to be a Bluestar if he were raised being taught clan values, even if his internal systems are often built around never letting gross emotions be fully felt rather than what those emotions compel him to do.

[birdmenmanga]

(sliding beads along my abacus) I mean no matter how you slice it I'm going to have time to draw something for all of my birdmutuals. Let's be generous and say that I have like 15 of them. I think a third of them will not care enough to put out a list, another handful will forget to do it, which means realistically I think I'm going to end up in the ballpark of maybe like. 7. I feel like 30 minutes is plenty of time to drawr a little gift or something. so let's say max case scenario. 12 birdmutuals submit lists. I could knock that out easily in 3 days.

[coconut530]

Bump in the Night & Sleeptober Day 10: Open Graves & Ascend

[seumyo]

yearning drunk!husband ushijima wakatoshi.

NOTE. contains a bit of alcohol content—though nothing too explicit or anything concerning <33

It always started the same way—kind of like an inside joke that grew wings, feathers, a tab, and Ushijima’s name on the reservation list.

Ushijima never initiated going out drinking with his Schweiden Adlers teammates. In fact, he rarely said anything about it at all. It was always someone else who mentioned it after a game. Always someone else who slung an arm over his shoulder and declared, “C’mon, Ushiwaka, we have to celebrate,” even though Ushijima had never once expressed interest in alcohol, bar food, or drunken conversations.

Still, he always went.

Because it’d be rude if he didn’t at least stay for a few minutes, he thinks.

Sometimes he showed up in his team windbreaker, sometimes in a long, dark gray coat that made him look like a trench-wearing monument of silence. And he never said no, even when the clamor of celebration was already grating at the edges of his patience.

Tonight was one of those nights.

They’d won by the skin of their teeth—an overtime set against a grueling opponent, the kind of match that made even the benchwarmers feel like champions by the end. So of course Heiwajima had started the round-up in the locker room. Hoshiumi had shouted over everyone about their lucky bar down the street, and within twenty minutes, the entire team had found themselves in their regular private suite.

Ushijima sat at the end of the table, his back straight, a glass in front of him filled with alcohol he didn’t particularly like. His teammates were loud and loose and chaotic—laughing at Sokolov trying to arm-wrestle the bar’s bouncer, clapping every time someone dropped a fork, and yelling across the table in at least three different languages.

“A thousand yen says he’ll ask about his wife in twenty minutes,” Hoshiumi said quietly, leaning toward their captain, Hirugami Fukurou.

“You’re giving him way too much credit,” Romero replied, fondly grinning. “He gets wistful around minute twelve.”

“He gets wistful the moment he sits down.”

Ushijima was unmoved. He stared at his drink, took a single sip, and let it rest in his hand. He didn’t participate in the yelling, the toasts, or the story someone was animatedly telling about a missed serve from three seasons ago. He just existed—quietly, stoically—as a satellite to the chaos.

Except, of course, they all knew he was waiting.

He always was.

There was a pattern to the transformation. First, he’d sit there like stone. Then he’d blink a little more slowly. His brows would draw together—not in anger, but in vague confusion, like he was lost in a thought he couldn’t solve. His fingers would move against his glass, not to drink but to fidget, just a little.

And then…

“Has anyone seen my phone?” Ushijima asked, barely louder than the buzz of conversation.

Hoshiumi slid it across the table immediately. “Right here, Ushiwaka. Sorry! We took a few pictures here and there.”

“Thank you.”

He looked down at the screen. It was still lit with the last message from you from earlier that day: Good luck, baby. Don’t forget to stretch your left shoulder. He’d never replied—he never did, not when he was already in headspace—but now, he stared at it like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

“You want to text her?” Hoshiumi asks, lightly teasing, which Ushijima didn’t catch onto.

Ushijima didn’t answer. He opened the thread and typed a few letters. Deleted them. Typed something else. Backspaced. Then just stared.

And then finally: “She hasn’t replied.”

His teammates laughed.

“There it is!”

“It’s only been seventeen minutes! I win!”

“No, you cheated. I said ten, and he didn’t even check his phone until minute twelve!”

“Shh, shh, look at him—he’s pouting.”

“Wait, is this the pout phase? I thought that came after the silent brooding phase.”

“Technically we’re entering pout-brood overlap. It’s a dangerous time.”

Ushijima didn’t argue. He simply set the phone down again and folded his hands in front of him. Kageyama leaned over.

“You want me to call her for you, Ushijima-san?”

Ah, yes. Kageyama was too nice for his own good. Trying to enhance his socialization and trying to lessen his awkwardness with his teammates when the conversation didn’t revolve around volleyball.

Ushijima nodded. Just once. Immediately. “Yes.”

...

“Amazing! He’s not even trying to hide it.”

“Can you imagine being that in love?”

“He just wants his wife. Look at him. He’s a whole sad poem in one sitting.”

“She’s gonna get here, and he’s gonna light up like a lantern.”

“May this love run me over.”

Kageyama stood and walked a few paces away from the table, already dialing your number. Meanwhile, the others watched Ushijima sip his drink again—not because he wanted it, but because it gave his hands something to do. His eyes were glued to the screen even though no new notifications had appeared.

Romero leaned in conspiratorially to Hirugami. “Do you think she talks to him in, like, soft tones? Calls him ‘baby’ and stuff?”

“I think so,” he shrugs. “I think they’re sweet like that.”

“Aw, young love.”

The teasing continued, but it softened. Because underneath the jokes and the laughs was a sort of awe.

Their teammate—so serious, so focused, so unreadable on court—was completely and utterly soft when it came to his wife. Not in a loud way. Not in any way that could be easily teased, really. It was quiet. Heavy. Real.

When Kageyama returned, he had a pleased expression. “She’s on her way. Said she just got off work and is driving over.”

Ushijima gave another slow blink.

“Thank you.”

Kageyama nods. Somehow they manage to have conversations even if they just continue nodding to each other.

As soon as Kageyama said it, his phone buzzed with a new message. He didn’t even need to open it. He could tell by the way his entire body relaxed by a single, barely noticeable degree.

Sorry, hun. Just got off work. Are you okay?

He replied.

I’m okay. I miss you.

And then he set the phone down and folded his hands again, this time with more calm. More certainty. You were coming. That was all he needed to know.

The others noticed the shift immediately.

“He smiled.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“He did! Don’t argue with me; I saw it. It was micro. But it counted.”

“He’s already halfway out the door with his heart.”

“Watch, the second she walks through that door, he’ll go full puppy mode.”

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, the door opened. A gust of cold air followed you inside, along with the soft jingle of the bar’s entrance bell. You spotted them easily—your eyes landing on Ushijima before anything else. And his entire body seemed to change shape.

He stood up—not quickly, but instantly, with a kind of gravity no one else in the room had.

You smiled as you approached, slipping out of your coat and brushing off the cold that nipped your nose softly. “Hi, love,” you greeted softly. “You ready to go?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said, already reaching for his jacket.

As he shrugged it on, you turned to the table. “Hope he wasn’t too much trouble?”

Hoshiumi leaned on the table with a grin. “[Name], your husband is the definition of ‘not trouble.’ We’re just grateful you came to collect him before he sighed himself into the carpet.”

“Tell them what he said!” someone shouted.

“He asked if anyone had seen his phone like it was a national emergency.”

“And he didn’t pout—he brooded. Like a man out of a romantic novel.”

“I think I did,” Ushijima just nodded at their comments about him.

He then stood by quietly, waiting for you to finish your goodbyes. When you looped your arm through his, he leaned ever so slightly toward you.

As they left, Romero raised his glass.

“To [Name]’s husband,” he declared. The table cheered.

Outside, as you two walked toward the car, you glanced up at him, fingers tightening around his arm.

“You really okay?” you asked.

He hummed. Then, in that low, steady voice only you ever got to hear, it softened—

“I missed you,” he said again. “They were loud. I wanted to see you very much.”

You smiled and gave his arm a firm, loving squeeze. “Well. I’m here now.”

And... yeah.

That’s what he’s been wanting to hear all night.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[mwphisto]

LaDs: Random Head-Canons

~ these are just random little ideas I have about each love interest, like a previous post I made, most of these have no prior canon lore to back the claim. Just based on vibes.

You and Rafayel plan your arguments. Contrary to popular belief, you two don’t fight often at all. Due to that, you two like to role play arguments for giggles. It usually ends when one of you can’t keep it together and/or the argument turns real. Which usually means it’s time to tap out and do some damage control.

You and Sylus dedicate at least twenty minutes of time before bed to lay together and gossip. It’s like having a sleepover with your bestie. You get settled, face each other, and just go on and on about whoever and whatever until your eyelids are heavy and he can’t stop yawning.

You and Zayne frequently shower together. It’s your favorite way of getting a little quality time in before starting your days. 9/10 times it doesn’t lead to sex either, just soft giggles shared under a warm stream of water while you discuss what your days hold and when to expect the other to arrive home. You even plan out your dinner for the night while shampooing his hair.

You and Xavier garden together. Not that kind of gardening, actual gardening on his balcony with plants you’ve adopted from Jeremiah’s shop. You’ve given them all names, have a detailed care plan hanging on Xavier’s fridge, and the passcode to his apartment if he’s off in a no hunt zone. They’re your babies.

You and Caleb have spa nights. I’m talking mani/pedi, face mask, hair mask, under eye patches, lymphatic massages, the whole nine yards. Caleb shaves your legs for you as a thanks for shaving his stubble since he always cuts his face up. But with your legs? He’s so gentle, so careful, doesn’t miss a single hair. He also rocks the black nail polish you applied to his fingers.

Rafayel takes note of what perfumes you buy, and jots down his thoughts on them. He’s still a little traumatized (heavily turned on) by that one perfume. The one you only have an unlabeled bottle of, the one you use to rile him up. So he takes down the scent notes from your other fragrances to try and compare to the unlabeled bottle but dammit he gets so… distracted that he can only recall one possible note at a time.

Sylus stole one of your trinkets — it was a duplicate figure from a blind box — and keeps it in his pocket whenever he goes out on business. It’s his way of keeping a piece of you with him all the time. The silly little thing makes him smile like a moron when he feels it in his pocket or sets it out on the table before him while he works. He’s named it his “mini kitten” and he’ll send you pictures of it on his travels.

Zayne designed your engagement ring himself one afternoon while listening to a colleague drone on and on about research he already knew by heart. He draws well, steady hands and precise eyes aided him in school when he had to draw out anatomy diagrams. But now? He can doodle for fun and it turns out pretty damn good. So he spent the meeting designing your ring, eager to make it real.

Xavier has a list of baby names saved on his phone. Any time he heard one he liked, he’d open his note app and jot it down. At this point, he has nearly thirty names saved, and has even discussed the topic with you and added some additions. Perhaps he’s too invested now, because all of his recommended items are baby clothes and furniture. It’s giving him baby fever.

Caleb wants to get tattoos but the DAA and the Farspace Fleet have strict policies on them. He still snuck one, a matching one he got with you shortly after you graduated high school. It’s hidden on the inside of his bicep, as is yours, and it’s another little secret the two of you share together.

[flwrstqr]

PAPER RINGS ★ WHEN YOU SHUT THEM UP WITH A KISS

𓋜 手紙 ❜ 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 '𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

【 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐒 】 𝑙’ boyfriend!enha & fem!rea 8OO established relationship fluff reaction ˊᯅˋ skinship petnames kissing ｡ ｡ CLICK

다니 ⠀⦂ hope flueries enjoy :0 i promise i'll be back to my old posting schedule after i get less busy with exams TT

LEE HEESEUNG

you roll your eyes, but heeseung’s endless teasing finally tips you over the edge — you grab his face and kiss him, shutting him up mid-sentence. he freezes for half a second, then melts into you with a soft little chuckle against your lips, his hands sliding to your waist, thumbs drawing lazy circles against your skin. when you finally pull back, breathless, he’s grinning like an idiot, eyes crinkled, forehead resting against yours. “couldn’t resist me, huh, baby?” he teases, and you swear your heart physically flips. he pulls you closer, arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go, peppering soft kisses along your cheeks, jaw, anywhere he can reach. “it’s okay, angel. i’m all yours,” he murmurs, so smug yet so impossibly sweet that you can’t even be mad. heeseung’s love for you is written all over him, stupidly, helplessly.

PARK JAY

you’re half-listening to jay’s lecture about how you really need to start dressing warmer, but the way he’s fussing over you, adjusting your scarf and smoothing your jacket, makes your heart ache a little — so you lean in and kiss him, cutting him off mid-sentence. he immediately forgets whatever he was saying, hands pausing on your shoulders before sliding down to hold your waist gently, like muscle memory. when you pull away, he blinks at you, dazed. “you’re unbelievable, princess,” he murmurs, forehead brushing yours. he tucks you even closer to his chest, wrapping you up with his warmth. “guess i’ll just have to keep you warm myself, huh, sweetheart?” he mumbles.

SIM JAKE

you don’t even think — you just surge forward and kiss him, pressing your mouth to his mid-ramble about the dumbest thing, something about his game strategy or whatever nonsense he was so excited about. jake immediately shuts up, the words dying on his tongue as he melts into you, but holding you close like he’s scared you’ll pull away too soon. when you do, he blinks at you, lips pink and pouty. “do it again,” he mumbles, barely above a whisper, eyes flickering to your mouth with such softness it makes your knees weak. “please, baby…” he adds, voice a little whiny, already leaning in like he can’t stand another second apart. you laugh under your breath, but jake’s hands are already tugging you closer, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him upright. god, he’s so easy to love.

PARK SUNGHOON

he’s still rambling —teasing you about how you can’t go five minutes without touching him — when you finally yank him down by the collar and kiss him hard enough to wipe that smug grin off his face. his hands immediately find your waist, warm and firm, pulling you closer like he’s been waiting for you to snap. sunghoon tastes like mint and trouble, and god, you melt when you feel him grin right into the kiss, so full of himself even now. “someone missed me, huh, baby?” he mutters against your lips, laughter humming in his throat. “not my fault you’re so kissable, baby,” you breathe, and he chuckles, all stupidly handsome and stupidly yours.

KIM SUNOO

you can’t help it — he’s been talking for five minutes straight, waving his hands, cheeks glowing pink as he lists reasons why you should let him pick the movie. you grab his face mid-sentence and kiss him, soft and quick, and for a second he freezes under your touch. then, like a machine rebooting, sunoo just keeps going, voice a little lighter, ears burning. “—and it’s not just because i think you’ll like it, baby, it’s genuinely a cinematic masterpiece,” he insists, as you laugh. “plus, i mean, you kissed me, that’s practically a contract. you trust me. you love me.” he grins like you hadn’t just stolen his breath away two seconds ago.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon’s mid-lecture about how you’re “so irresponsible, baby, you can’t just eat ice cream for dinner,” when you lean up and kiss him, catching him completely off guard. he goes stiff for half a second, lips warm against yours, before letting out a breathy little laugh, palms instinctively settling on your hips. “yah,” he huffs when you pull away, trying to sound stern, but the way his eyes crinkle at the corners completely betrays him. “you can’t just shut me up like that, pretty girl,” he says, voice all fond and playful, squeezing your sides and pulling you closer at the same time. you nuzzle into his chest, and he rests his chin on your head with a quiet sigh. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbles, smiling so wide now it physically hurts him to pretend he’s still mad.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki’s teasing you, poking your side, making dumb jokes just to hear you whine, when you finally grab his collar and kiss him. for a second he freezes and then he grins against your mouth, like you just handed him the best challenge of his life. “oh, so we’re doing this now, baby?” he murmurs, voice low and smug, before kissing you back even harder. “what’s wrong? can’t handle me?” he teases, peppering quick, annoying kisses all over your cheeks until you’re shoving at his chest, laughing breathlessly. “should’ve thought twice before starting something you can’t finish, pretty girl,” he says, arms trapping you easily against him like he’s never letting you go.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗢𝗡 𝗠𝗘 lando norris x girlfriend! reader ( fluff ) fic summary , Lando usually pays for food, take out or groceries. today you decide to pay yourself since it was easier and Lando did not like that (0.4k)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

You were curled into Lando’s side like you belonged there, limbs tangled, the TV playing some show neither of you were really watching. It was all warmth and lazy affection—his fingers drawing patterns on your arm, your cheek pressed to his chest, his heart beating slow and steady beneath your ear.

"I'm gonna change the order," you murmured, scrolling through the food app.

"Again?" he chuckled, head tilting to peek over your phone. “Didn’t you already pick, like, five different things?”

“I had a vision,” you said dramatically, tapping at the screen like it held secrets only you could decode. “I want dumplings instead of sushi. It’s a craving emergency.”

Lando grinned, nudging his nose into your hair. “Whatever you want, love.”

A few minutes passed, the air syrupy with comfort, until you hit place order and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Alright,” he said, untangling himself from your hold. “Let me grab my wallet—”

“No need.” You were already settling back into his side. “It’s done. It’ll be here in twenty.”

Lando blinked. “Wait—what?”

You turned your face up toward him, blinking back just as innocently. “It’s already on its way. I used my card.”

“…Excuse me?”

He looked personally offended, hand still frozen mid-reach. The drama in his expression was Oscar-worthy.

“I had Apple Pay ready, and it was faster,” you explained with a little shrug.

He stared at you, betrayal written in every line of his face. “You paid?”

“I did.”

“With your money?”

“…That’s how paying works, yeah.”

Lando gasped, flopping back onto the couch like you'd broken his heart. “Why would you do that? I always pay for food.”

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic,” you laughed, shifting to face him fully. His bottom lip was sticking out, puppy-like and tragic.

“I always pay,” he repeated, grabbing his phone. “I’ll transfer it right now.”

“Lando,” you scolded, stealing his phone from his hand and dropping it onto the coffee table.

“I’m paying you back.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I can’t let you spend your money on me!”

“Too late,” you Hhum, pressing a kiss to the corner of his pouty mouth. “I did.”

He tried not to smile, tried to hold onto the sadness like a martyr. “You’re evil.”

You kissed him again. “You love it.”

“I do,” he mumbled, kissing you this time, once, then again, softer. “But I’m still gonna feel bad about it.”

“Guess I’ll have to kiss the guilt away.”

“Might take a lot of kisses,” he said, nuzzling into you like a big sulky bear.

“Then lucky for you, I’m rich in affection.”

“You’re rich because I’m not letting you pay again.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re too good to me.”

You just kissed him again, warm and giggly as he tried to snatch back his phone like a man on a mission. But even with all the fuss, he never pulled away from you. Not even a little.

[leighsartworks216]

If You're Quiet During Sex (Headcanons)

Sylus x gn!Reader + Zayne x gn!Reader (separate)

Had this thought because I'm quiet During so I got a little self-deprecating about what they'd think about it... but then I remembered the boys would never make me feel ashamed for that shit

Warnings: sexual content

Word Count: 434 (cool, it's like a little kissy face)

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus

Probably thinks he's not making you feel good enough at first

Shocked when you orgasm because you were so quiet, surely he didn't make you cum already???

Brings it up right away, asks if you liked it

Admits that he expected you to make more noise

If it's purely from inexperience or anxiety, he's more than happy to spend time breaking down those barriers. He won't force you to make noise, but he's definitely more forthcoming with his own sounds to encourage you. Any sound you do make, he's praising you for it and trying to draw it out of you again

If moaning really just isn't your thing, he just asks that you tell him if something feels good or bad. He wants to pleasure you, and he wants to make sure he's doing things you like when he might not notice your little tells in the heat of the moment

Either way, he does keep track of your tells. If you close your eyes and tilt your head back, mouth hanging open, small whimpers or shivers - he's looking for whatever it is that tells him you're enjoying yourself

He's moderately noisy during sex. He'll moan and talk, but it's not like he's trying to project it. It's more close to you, contained in the space between you both, but not so quiet he has to be in your ear to hear it

-

Zayne

I feel like he wouldn't question it as much

Because he's also not very vocal

He himself is very breathy and whines a little, but full moans are few and far between

Communicates a LOT about what you do and don't enjoy before, during and after

Sometimes requests you to speak (*ahem* "Say my name..." from Silent Poem, I'm looking at you), but never pushes you to be loud

If you're quiet because of anxiety or inexperience, he's as reassuring and encouraging as he can be. Would honestly be so proud of you if you start being louder and more vocal over time, because it means you're comfortable with him and that means the world to him. Says as much afterward, cuddling you and nuzzling into your neck with a lovestruck grin as he does

I wonder if you couldn't also influence him into being more noisy during sex. Command or beg him to say your name, tell you how good he feels, suck and bite at his most sensitive spots until he's a whining, simpering mess.....

Imagine his own surprise when you touch him and he lets out a very loud moan that even he wasn't expecting

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[astonmartinii]

day ten: three (un)wise men | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem piastri reader

christmas time is the one time of year oscar has some peace and quiet away from his teammate... or at least it was

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, georgerussell63 and 671,209 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: the piastri house just got a bit busier

view all comments

user2: just take me out back and put me out of my misery

user3: add me to the list

oscarpiastri: i think you'll find it was quite busy enough

yourusername: boring, get a new routine bozo

oscarpiastri: i am not wholly opposed to this relationship but that was before he invaded our house and got mum to get rid of all of my salmon

landonorris: i am ALLERGIC

oscarpiastri: that's such a lie ???

landonorris: your mum believed it

oscarpiastri: you're just letting him lie to mum @yourusername

yourusername: he didn't lie he just embellished the truth

oscarpiastri: i'm telling mum we've just thrown out perfectly good salmon

landonorris: NOOOOOO

yourusername: well this isn't dramatic at all

oscarpiastri: @zakbrownceo lando just pushed me down the stairs

landonorris: snitches get stitches

oscarpiastri: i probably already need some :(

yourusername: you're literally fine osc let's stop being dramatic please

user4: my new years wish is to be in a relationship like theirs

user5: i think i would do anything at this point

user6: in brother's best friend we believe

oscarpiastri: BEST FRIEND?

landonorris: wow osc tell me how you really feel

oscarpiastri: i mean i like you, i tolerate your relationship with my sister but i draw the line at saying you're my best friend

logansargeant: logan sargeant erasure for sure

user7: so like now y/n is done with her degree will we get her in the paddock more

mclarenf1: not if this is what happens when she's around

user8: it's funny?

mclarenf1: oscar got thrown down the stairs over fish?

user9: they're called the three unwise men for a reason

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 893,209 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: first christmas down under

view all comments

user10: why is this actually making me want a hot christmas?

user11: if it seems so wrong why do i want it to be right?

user12: i can't be sweaty while eating christmas dinner sorry

yourusername: that's not necessarily true

landonorris: oh! yes... hehehehe

oscarpiastri: SHUT THE FUCK UP

yourusername: why are you in our business ?

oscarpiastri: you're making it my business

landonorris: and how would we be doing that?

oscarpiastri: you're cuddled up like two ft away from me, giggling very loudly and saying 'what you gonna say to that osc'

yourusername: us? never!

oscarpiastri: i'm going to tear out my hair before the end of christmas

yourusername: with that forehead? no you won't

oscarpiastri: life was so peaceful when you went to lando's for christmas

landonorris: it might have been peaceful but you did miss us ... the phone logs prove it

user13: they gotta be so annoying for the other piastris

user14: idk i think they're like puppies that have to get all of their zoomies out and then just pass out on the couch

user15: more like lando and y/n are the big bumbling dogs and oscar is the one unimpressed cat who will on occasion chase their tails

carlossainz55: and yet you never made the short trip to spain... makes you think

yourusername: i'm way cuter than you

carlossainz55: is it just a piastri thing to be annoying

oscarpiastri: excuse me?

carlossainz55: you heard me the first time

yourusername: this is a crazy hill to die on considering lando will be a piastri in the near future

oscarpiastri: he basically already is

landonorris: omg i knew you guys loved me

carlossainz55: ew?

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,204,377 others

oscarpiastri: you know what they were right to call us the three unwise men because why did i come down to get a glass of water to see lando under the tree in nothing but a ribbon i NEED all three of us dead at this point

view all comments

user17: exsqueeze me?

user18: lord i have seen what you have done for other people

user19: my only thing is ... lando doesn't seem the most flexible how did he do the ribbon bows himself ...

maxfewtrell: most traumatic facetime of my life

yourusername: you can be angry about this, i personally do not give a fuck

oscarpiastri: that much is clear

yourusername: lando made it very clear that we had bagsied the living room for the evening

oscarpiastri: you have a christmas tree in your room? why didn't you do that there?

yourusername: you have an en suite you could've gotten a glass of water from there?

landonorris: i think i know the issue here

oscarpiastri: oh please do share your wisdom

landonorris: you seeing me like that changed something inside of you

landonorris: are you having an identity crisis osc?

oscarpiastri: no?

yourusername: good! he's mine!

oscarpiastri: i was in shock because i saw my future brother in law 90% naked on my living room floor

landonorris: i can see that

yourusername: omg look at us we're so good at talking it through - therapy who?

alexalbon: PLEASE STILL GO TO THERAPY DEAR LORD

oscarpiastri: i will defo still be talking to my therapist about this

user20: i know the caption is traumatising but also lets have a second to think about how oscar has just posted three memes of himself

oscarpiastri: i have a very expressive face i gotta use it

maxverstappen1: wowwowowow lando is stooping low for the mental games this season

maxverstappen1: let it be known lando, gay chicken is not very effective in psychological warfare

landonorris: okay?

maxverstappen1: it will just take your love away from you ....

landonorris: i don't want osc? i am very happy with the piastri i have

yourusername: i am the best piastri :P

oscarpiastri: i'm gonna ignore the whole slander in the comment above but are we all ignoring how max is lamenting over his loss of daniel?

yourusername: i think we should just leave him to it ....

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 782,309 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: i got my present this year, yes ribbon included

view all comments

user21: slowly but surely you guys are pushing me into my hater era

user22: if you're gonna brag about it can we at least get some photgraphic evidence

user23: PRETTY PLEASE

yourusername: that's for my eyes only

oscarpiastri: and mine apparently

landonorris: i gotta spoil my girl

alexalbon: but from what oscar's post says the present was you?

landonorris: well yes!

alexalbon: wow that must be disappointing i'm sorry @yourusername

yourusername: i can assure you i was very happy with my gift

landonorris: see alex !!!!

landonorris: i also got y/n other gifts

alexalbon: i should think so considering i've seen you in changing rooms :/

georgerussell63: another woman disappointed on christmas, not very feminist of you lando

landonorris: NO BODY SHAMING ON CHRISTMAS

landonorris: also WHAT?

user24: poor lando - he can't escape the bullying from alex and george even on christmas

user25: it's good entertainment tbf

oscarpiastri: i'm glad my trauma was a nice gift for you

yourusername: ur still whining about that?

oscarpiastri: yes i will whine until i die it was TERRIFYING

landonorris: you can keep complaining

landonorris: but i'll do it again next year

oscarpiastri: cool you can traumatise YOUR family instead

landonorris: oh you'll be there

oscarpiastri: huh?

yourusername: you guys are all coming to somerset next year!!!

oscarpiastri: i didn't consent to this?

yourusername: we can't split up the three unwise men :(

landonorris: please osc :(

oscarpiastri: fine.

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yukitsunoda0511 and 982,309 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

landonorris: no shrimps on the barbie at christmas i am very disappointed

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user27: didn't they throw out all the fish when lando arrived...

user28: let's sit back and watch oscar vs lando part 289 since christmas started

oscarpiastri: you raise a GREAT POINT

oscarpiastri: i got thrown down the stairs for no point?

landonorris: i fought you in self defence?

oscarpiastri: i didn't have any fish in my hands? STOP VICTIM BLAMING

landonorris: actually it was only like three steps

oscarpiastri: three steps constitute stairs

landonorris: nuh uh three steps does not a stairs make

user29: yall done?

yourusername: you don't even like fish?

landonorris: but i love YOU !!!

yourusername: i love you toooooo

yourusername: but you're gonna have to get over it because next aussie christmas i will be having my seafood

landonorris: i guess so

landonorris: but just for you!

yourusername: awwww this is real love :3

user30: i think we've just seen y/n tie lando down for life

yourusername: oh believe me i've tied him down before

landonorris: hehehehehe

oscarpiastri: idk i defo saw a shrimp ...

oscarpiastri: in a ribbon...

landonorris: well i was hardly ever gonna be excited to see YOU

yourusername: it's okay babe he's just trying to rattle you

oscarpiastri: i'm just stating what i saw

yourusername: that's it !!! the next time your next to stairs it's ME you should be worried about

oscarpiastri: well this is not very christmas spirit of you

landonorris: we got all our christmas spirit out even when you tried to cockblock

oscarpiastri: i'm going to block both of you

user31: three unwise men i love you all

user32: mclaren please never take them away from me

user33: @ mclaren please bring back unboxed with y/n as host please

yourusername: i only star in not safe for work videos with lando sorry

landonorris: :3333333

oscarpiastri: i'm going to kill myself

fin.

note: nearly done with this series woooooo!!!!

[biteyoubiteme]

bubble gum flavored

Beomgyu x fem!reader

synopsis: you're a camgirl and beomgyu is your favorite fan.

warnings: 🔞!!! mentions of masturbation (m! and f!), sex toys, mentions of cum eating, panty sniffing, fingering, oral (f!rec), nipple play, overstim (m! and f! rec), marking, use of teeth, unprotected sex, creampie, reader calls gyu by username beomiebear, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 6k

an: my weakness is camgirl/camboy fics and I already want to write a part two. take a shot every time I use the three c’s cum clit cock feedback appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is a part of my mini kinktober event check out the other fics! [dumdums m.list]

beomgyu remembers when he found your stream for the first time. The cam website had you listed in the newcummer ranks, only a few watchers sitting in the chat when he clicked on. he usually kept to the top camgirls in the list, getting off once and then heading to bed, but he had misclicked when logging on ending up right where he needed to be all along.

The little window previewing your stream showed your pink backdrop, a million pink pillows laid out on the ground where you leaned back. He shrugged, opening your stream to see you with a wand pressed to your clothed clit, legs lifted to your chest, your back arching as you came, the strappy blue bikini straining against your tits like it would pop off at any second. It was over for him the second he heard your breathy whines, thighs shaking as you overstimulated yourself, knees pulling in before you gave a shout pulling the vibrator away. The swimsuit bottoms are completely soaked through sticking and outlining your cunt. 

Even without the wand you were trembling, head thrown back as you tried to catch your breath. And for the first time ever gyu commented in the chat dropping a donation with a single word. 

beomiebear: again.

The ding of the request was the only sound in your room, drawing you to look right at the screen for the first time. If he hadn't been gone by the sound of your pretty noises he was with your pretty face. 

“okay ill go again,” you hooked your arms under your knees, and before pressing back down on your clit you muttered, “This one's for you beomiebear,” 

beomgyu stayed up until your stream was over, cock raw from how long he had been fucking his hand, stomach covered in streams of his cum from how often he finished to the sight of you. he bookmarked your page, paid to be an exclusive member and waited for a notification that you were on live. 

The first month of following you he got used to your schedule on Wednesday, and Friday nights he would be at his desk filling your chat with requests, commenting on your beauty, dropping donations like candy leading you through the forest of your other commenters to praise him and him alone. Every stream he joined got him more and more recognition from you. A sweet, “hi beomiebear,” drawn out and giddy, your little wave and smile just for him. Other exclusive members in the chat didn’t get that voice, no, it was reserved for beomgyu and beomgyu alone. Even as you grew higher in the ranks and more people started joining your little army you always greeted beomiebear. He was the longest standing member in chat, donated the most, requested things he could tell you liked just by the way you sounded. 

When you listed a wishlist for items to be sent to you, if the gift was from beomiebear you didn’t just mention the one time you wore it but every time after, “You remember this one don’t you? It was a gift from beomiebear,” your fingers snapping the waistband of the pink thong you wore, “beomie says he loves me in pink, do you guys agree?” 

Your streams were everything to him, even if he was on a trip or out late when you started a stream he was in the bathroom of a bar jerking off like it was the first time he ever saw you, he's trying to stifle his moans in hotel rooms, cumming hard with your name on his lips. he was there for your streams when you just got ready, always in your tiny little tank top nipples peddled, treating the camera like a facetime call. Asking the chat what you should wear, holding up options. His favorite part is always at the end when you put on your lipstick and then go on to fix up your hair, spinning in your outfit asking if you looked pretty. He never missed an opportunity to shower you with love. 

And when you did an event for reaching your goal sub count you promised the highest donator a fleshlight, two used pairs of panties, and a personal video of you cumming in one of them. beomgyu was the winner by a landslide. “and who would have guessed that beomiebear was the winner? I'm not surprised my beomiebear is obsessed with me,” it was the same time that you set up personal chat offers for long-time members and no one had been watching as long as gyu had. 

you: Do you want me to use your real name in my video for you?

But gyu loved that you called him by his screen name, anyone else he had ever had sex with only called him beomgyu and you were so much more than just casual even if you had never met in person. 

beomiebear: No, I like it when you call me beomiebear or even just beomie or bear. 

Once beomgyu got his video he watched it on the days you didn’t stream, playing it over and over until he had each word memorized. 

“I picked these out just for you,” your hands running over the bubble gum pink panties you wore, “you’re going to have to tell me if you like them. and then these,” you held up that strappy blue swimsuit, “I know I said two panties but these were from the first stream you joined, so that means I wore them the first time you made me cum,” 

just the fact you remembered made him hard. and when you pulled out the fleshlight you got him, unboxing it to show it off, “now it's not wet unlike how I am right now but I'm sure you'll get it wet enough,” your fingers running over the silicone, slipping your middle and ring finger in the hole before taking them out and putting them into your mouth, “I wish I could lick this clean after you had used it,” you pout, “I know you must taste so good,” you kissed over the puffy lips before asking, “you’ll think of me when you use it right?” 

You had him wrapped so tight about your little finger that he was nodding and answering to a screen knowing damn well you couldn't hear him.

When his package came in he was shaking with need, straining in his jeans ripping open the box, groaning over the smell of you. You didn’t only send the things promised, you tossed in an extra pair of panties, sprayed with your perfume, and a little bear and lollipop phone charm. A note card handwritten for him saying ‘for my beomiebear, don’t forget to give your new toy clitty kisses before fucking it and filling it up while thinking of me <33’ and did he listen, kissing over where he knew your lips had been before sending it, fucking it until he was so drained he was amazed at how much cum could leave his body. Your panties pressed to his nose, phone charm hanging from his case. 

You were right about him being obsessed with you and neither of you would have it any other way. and you were no different. Seeing beomiebear's name in the chat or donating would never stop you from smiling. He was one of the first people to support you on live, calling out bad behavior in chat, and calling you the prettiest names. When beomie was active you were putting on your best show. You felt the prettiest when beomiebear was watching and commenting. You picked out outfits you knew beomie would like and couldn't help but think about how he must look behind his keyboard at home.

You've never seen beomie but that didn’t mean that you weren't obsessed with the idea of him just like he was obsessed with the idea of you. Sometimes after a stream when beomie would go to your private chat complimenting you and saying goodnight you were laid out in bed giggling and kicking your feet, blushing and smiling acting as if you've never had a boyfriend before in your life. No man had ever made you this giddy in real life and no one else from your streams compared. 

You remember finding the little phone charm when you were on vacation smiling like a madman just thinking about beomiebear so you bought it. You wouldn't be able to forget the cute little bear or the lolly pop, beomiebear, and his bubblegum princess in pink. Always wondered if he had put it to use or if it was sitting in his nightstand with your panties. 

Tonight you set up your stream for a get ready with me, fingers rolling over your nipples to get them hard, “Hi! Tonight is just going to be a short stream, it feels like forever since I've been on but it's been only one day,” your eyes scan over chat, welcoming the users who tip or the ones you've seen before. These streams never did as well as the ones with you masturbating but they did bring in long-term tippers, the ones who requested private texts and videos often. “I'm going out tonight so I need help to make sure I look good, do you think you could help me decide on a few things?” 

Your setup is in your spare room, the one space that made you sign for your apartment as soon as you saw it. Your backdrop is set up right along the back wall, a bed set up lengthwise along the wall with all your pillows to lay down at the perfect angle for your camera. Your vanity is usually behind the camera, only used when you do streams like these, the lights setting the mood. The small closet attached to the room held anything you wore for streams, all your toys and props organized under where everything hung. Tonight you were going out with friends for drinks for a rare night out with friends. You spend most of the time commuting to class and home, and with both your cam schedule and your school schedule you didn’t go out much. And none of your friends knew your little secret and you would keep it like that as long as you possibly could. 

You held up the two options you had picked out for tonight, “maybe I should try them both on for you?” 

It then that beomies name pops up in chat and your smile brightens, “Hi beomiebear! Which one should I try first?” you were going for an angel or devil theme with the white set and the black set in hand, both of them nearly identical to each other.

beomiebear: Don’t we get to see the lingerie first?

“I didn’t even think of that beomie you’re so right. I would need your help to pick out the perfect panties for these, hmm let me see what I have,” you dig through your collection, pulling out a few options for them to pick between. “Here I have pink,” you hold them up one at a time, “white, red, and black. If I wear the white skirt I don’t know if I'll be able to wear the red but why don’t we see?” 

Your top half was mostly in frame as you changed your panties but stepping closer to the bed you could see more of your body in the viewfinder. Picking up the white skirt to pull it on, purposefully tugging it up higher. “see what I mean everyone would be able to see, especially if I bend over,” you demonstrate leaning over the bed and looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips. 

beomgyu is sitting in his apartment biting his lip trying to decide if he should touch himself when he has to be ready in an hour to leave for drinks with his friends. Debating if the clean up is worth it but knowing that if he doesn't get off at least once he will be fighting a boner for a while. He watches as you pick up the next pair of panties to try, you’re standing in front of the camera tugging your skirt down enough so that when you take off the red pair the camera doesn't pick it up, but as you tug on the white lace and bend back over the bed he gives up on resisting. The material is just sheer enough to show the outline of your cunt and as you sway your hips asking if these are better the fabric slips along your lips. there is no way he is not touching himself now. “oops,” you giggle fixing the lace so that it sits right again, “maybe not these, don’t want anyone else seeing what is only meant for my angels,” 

you stand back up, “You know what I think the black skirt is better,” you slide the white skirt off leaving you back in your tiny cropped tank and lace panties before sliding up the black skirt, “okay but now the white is too showy,” you bend again, “what should I pick next the black or the pink?” gyu is fast to respond, “okay beomie says pink so I think we have to try that one next,” and gyu doesn't know what happens to him when he sees you wear pink only that he's whimpering with his hand down his sweats picking up his pace as he squeezes his cock. When you bend doing your little wiggle he knows he's the one who sent these to you from your wishlist, that alone makes him cum. His head falls back against the headboard, not caring about the mess anymore when you’re there taking your top off, pushing down on your boobs with your arm to hide giggling about not wanting to wear a bra tonight. Your bare back to the camera as you pull on your new top. 

By the end of your stream, he was cutting it close to making it out on time to meet up with everyone. But when he got to the bar they had saved him a seat at their booth half taken up with his friends and half taken up with yours. 

You were half squished between your friend and soobin, feeling claustrophobic amongst the group. soobin and you have an econ class together along with another friend at the table. He had invited the two of you out a couple of times but it was always on a Friday and you always made the most of Friday nights. But he had asked to celebrate the end of the semester pointing out everyone else was going so you agreed wanting to finally get out even if it was only the one time. So far all of his friends were nice, picking up conversation easily and adding everyone in like they had been besties for years. gyu didn’t even realize it was you at the table until you lifted your head at yeonjuns loud, “Look who finally made it!” 

beomgyu had only just seen you on his screen, putting on lipstick and blowing a kiss to your chat before logging off, he felt like he was hallucinating but he didn’t want to get caught staring. He tried to keep his features blank, avoiding spending too much time looking at you when he nodded a short greeting to everyone. he wasn't fully convinced it was you until soobin was introducing your side of the table, “And this is gyu,” 

your smile was the barest reaction he had ever seen you give, “Hi gyu,” so unlike the way you look when you call him beomie. he sat on the other side of soobin as the others continued their conversation. His hands were slick with sweat as he discreetly pulled out his phone pulling up your private chat, he had messaged you after stream like he usually did complimenting you, your sweet reply always going straight to his heart. He typed out a message for you clicking his phone off and letting it sit in his lap as he watched you pick yours up. 

beomiebear: I hope you’re thinking of me while you’re dressed that pretty tonight don’t need you forgetting me. 

beomgyu was trying not to make it obvious he was watching you as your face lit up typing before clicking your phone off. In his lap, his buzzed and he knew it was you. That little smile gave away more than anything else. 

you: There is no way I could forget about you when I'm always thinking about you <3

And as much as beomgyu wants to talk to you he's completely scared shitless. 

He feels like the second you two lock eyes you'll know he knows you’re a cam girl. That you'll feel weird once you know he's watched you get off for what feels like forever. Not even that he just watched but he's gotten off more times than he can count from watching you. that not even two hours ago he was fucking his hand wishing it was you and you had only been changing. He wouldn't be able to take it if you ignored him, stopped answering his messages, and smiled at his user. So he bit his tongue and sat back.

beomgyu didn’t think he would have a problem acting normal but when your friend dragged you out onto the dance floor it was almost painful not to watch you. the way your body was moving drawing him in without him noticing he was stuck on you until soobin bumped his shoulder, “just talk to her,” 

“w-what no,” he stumbled, waving away the suggestion, “she wouldn't- I'm not-“ his heart was beating so hard he's sure any more attention brought to him would give him away. 

“I will if you don’t,” gyu gave the deadliest glance, it was the last thing he ever wanted to think about, his friend and you together when it should be him. soobin chuckled, “I'm kidding I like her friend but it proves my point on why you should speak up,” 

beomgyu bit the inside of his cheek before muttering, “I'm getting another drink,” 

and that's where you found him at the bar. He was checking the time on his phone waiting for his drink when you popped up next to him leaning over the bartop waving over the bartender. Not even noticing he was from your group until the bartender walked right past ignoring you. gyu went stiff, placing his phone face down on the counter when you spoke up, “gyu right?” 

“Yeah,” he absentmindedly starts to play with the charm on his phone, flicking the lollipop. He knows you've never seen him, that you wouldn't know him in the way he knows you. Every shared glance feels as if you will just know it's him, like his username is written on his forehead that if you paid enough attention would be visible to only you. He could feel a pit in his stomach, a brewing mix of embarrassment and need. If he wasn't worried you would freak out he wanted to get to know you like he would any other girl in the bar. Ask you to dance, get you a drink, flirt until the sun comes up; he wanted you to like him, feel something for him even if it was a fraction of what he felt for you. 

“how do you know soobin?” you ask just trying to make conversation as you wait for another bartender to pass. 

“we're childhood friends and we roomed together our first year,” he flicks the charm again, looking over at the glasses lining the wall in front of the two of you, missing the way you looked down at what he was messing with. 

You could feel your heart in your ears at seeing the charm on his phone, the instant realization almost blinding. Your silence is what makes gyu look back at you, both of you looking at eachother like you saw a ghost. The two of you jumped out of your skin when Yeonjun and Kai came up behind gyu to say goodbye. 

“beomgyu were leaving,” and if Kai hadn't said his name at that exact moment you could have written it off. Anyone could be beomiebear it didn’t have to be gyu but mixed with the phone charm at that exact moment you couldn't have missed it. 

“o-okay,” beomgyu had to clear his throat to get the words out. the final nail in the coffin was when Yeonjun ruffled gyus hair as a salute not knowing he was leaving the two of you in a puddle of nerves after saying, “Bye beomie,” 

Even if it's a packed room, the only thing you can see is gyu in front of you. you had always dreaded the day when you would meet a member outside of chat, the possibility so much higher with your face uncovered. Now you were face to face with someone you had proof watched almost every single one of your streams. “so… is it going to be really uncomfortable now?” 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. I wasn't going to say anything,” beomgyu feels like he's rambling, grasping for straws to try to right the situation. You can see the panic on his face, the same face you're re-examining with your new clarity. A deep blush is set across his cheeks, his brows pinched in worry. 

“no it's okay I'm more shocked than uncomfortable,” you try to laugh it off, finger brushing over the little bear charm. “Happy to put a face to the name, you’re way cuter than I imagined,” 

beomgyu could feel warmth all over his body at the compliment, a soft smile showing itself. “you think?” it was so much better in person to hear you say nice things, to know it was meant for him alone. 

you give a soft chuckle waving, “Do you want to dance with me? I don’t think the bartender cares about us at this point,” 

“o-okay,” 

beomgyu couldn't believe you were here, the two of you are so close now that beomgyu can smell your perfume, making his cock so much harder remembering your panties pressed to his face, aided now by the way you were grinding back on him. he had a hard time putting his hands on you in the first place, you have to guide him to grab your waist. But as the night went on he was finding it easier and easier to let his hands roam wherever you let him. 

It felt as if you've known him for so long, everything falling into place as if you've always known each other, like that first stream was a first date and you haven't been apart since. If it had been anyone else you think you would have gone straight home and locked yourself away, with beomiebear, with beomgyu, you felt as if you could lock the two of you in a room and never leave. Because even if he had been behind the screen he still had picked up on the way you liked things. 

You turned wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to your mouth, “it's getting late,” 

“I don’t wanna go,” he confessed not caring if you could feel his erection pressed against you, he wanted to stay with you not see you go. 

“You don’t want to go home with me?” if you could push yourself any closer you would just to make your point, “Because something tells me you really do,” 

beomgyus mouth is dry, trying and failing to come up with words that won't seem too needy because all he wants to do is beg. he would have you right here if he could, right in the back of the uber you called to pick the two of you up. He's never been so nervous to be with anyone before, even his first time he was less needy and more confident. What breaks him is when you get to your apartment, when you push open the door to your spare room and he sees that pink bed from your background, moody lights and all. He moans at the thought of all the times he's seen you spread out on those very pillows with your hand between your thighs. The white skirt and panties you didn’t wear were still on the floor. “are you really wearing the panties I picked out?” his voice was caught in his throat, not at all how he wanted it to come off. But you just smile from the doorway, no one has ever been in here with you before and it gives you butterflies.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” you ask, sliding your hands up his chest and around his neck. 

He's slow to kiss you, the soft tentative nature of his kiss unlike how you thought he would be. He was being so gentle, taking his time with you, exploring the way you two fit together. His hands at your waist pulling you into him, kissing you breathless. beomgyu could make out with you forever, making every effort to know you inside and out. one hand sliding down the curve of your ass, pushing your shirt up until he was feeling the lace of your panties, groaning into your kiss. “do you-,” he can’t even pull himself away from you, pressing himself closer, coming back to your mouth like it was the source, “do you think-“

you have to pull away giggling. “it's okay beomgyu I'll still kiss you after you ask your question,” he's nodding like he understands, nose brushing against yours as he tries to latch back onto your mouth. 

“Do you think I could watch you?” those puppy dog eyes working wonders on your stomach, “please,”

“only if I get to see what it looks like on the other side of the screen,” you reach down to cup him over his jeans, “it's only fair,” beomgyu has never been so noisy in his life, whimpering as you feel him up, wanting to thrust into the air when you pull away. “Do you want me to use a toy?” 

he's nodding his head watching you pull open your closet door, the drawer you pull open overstocked with everything he's ever seen you use in a stream, even things he hasn't seen you use yet. He's almost a little shocked at the sight of all the options to choose from, mind filtering through every reaction he can remember you having with each one, needing to see your lashes flutter. It's when he sees the wand toy from the first stream he attended that he knows there was never another option for him. 

beomgyu sits on your vanity chair, leaning back against the cushion to get the perfect angle to watch you. The nerves were new for you, even the first few streams you had done you had been able to overlook the feeling because you were just alone in the room and no one really watched. Now you were actively being seen because even if the chat was running it was almost always positive comments that boosted your ego. Even other partners hadn't stepped into the space and maybe that's what was making it worse, you didn’t want to disappoint, but as you laid back on the pillows all stacked up to keep you slightly upright and looked at beomgyu it all faded away. He was watching you like he was seconds away from devouring you, that needy crease to his brow, the hem of his shirt rolled up just enough to show off his navel and waistband of his underwear. 

You lifted your knees to your chest using your arm to help keep them up, the way you were folded made your panties tighten against your cunt, the wet outline making gyus mouth water. He popped the button of his jeans, zipping down the zipper, to give him some release. You clicked on the vibrator, the hum the only sound in the room as you pressed it over your clit. Your reaction was instant, hips jerking and lashes fluttering. You could see the way beomgyus breathing increased, his hand pushed into his pants, lip between his teeth to keep his moans quiet. 

“I want to hear you,” you gasp, “I need to hear you,” 

beomgyu nods adam's apple bobbing, the breathy whimpers taking up all of the space in your mind until he pulls down his pants. His cock is heavy as it slaps against his stomach, beomgyu works fast to take off his shirt not caring where it lands as you focus in on every vein on his shaft. He's already so leaky, all his precum aiding his strokes. The visual of watching his hand working himself drives you insane, your imagination running wild as his hand pumps up and down stopping right at the flared tip, picturing exactly what it would feel like when he pushes into you. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, the pretty sounds coming from your mouth alone have beomgyu following right after, both of you locking eyes across the room as you try to come down from your high. gyus stomach is covered in streaks of his cum, sliding down with every breath he takes. You click off the wand not wanting to overstimulate yourself letting it fall in the pillows next to you.

Your panties are completely soaked as you push them down, strings of wetness still clinging to the fabric. You toss them over to beomgyu who's eager to catch them, cleaning up the mess he's made only to wrap them around his still-hard cock, letting your combined cum work as more lube for his slow pumps. “Your cock is so pretty beomie, does it put the gift I gave you to good use?” 

beomgyus thrusts up into his hand at the nickname, “Yes, I-I make sure to give it clitty kisses just like you told me,” 

you run your fingers through your slick folds spreading your legs wider to give him a better view, “are you going to give me clitty kisses before you fuck me?” beomgyu has to pull his hand away from himself before he came again at the question. He had dreamed of tasting you; getting lost between your thighs. He dropped your panties making his way to kneel in front of you on the bed. You still had your shirt and skirt on and he helped take both of them off before hooking your knees over his shoulders. As much as he has seen your pussy on screen nothing beats in person, your swollen clit covered in your slick, his head framed by your thighs. beomgyu is licking his lips as you brush your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands behind his ears, his eyes flickering up to yours as he wraps his hands around your thighs to keep you still. “how is it that you look this edible?”

you roll your hips, the heels of your feet pushing into his back, “just get to eating me,” 

his lips ghost over your clit, your whimper drawing him closer, soft kisses dusting over every part of your pussy. You have to tighten your hold on his hair, pushing him to your clit to get him to move past all his teasing. beomgyu moans at the taste of you, the vibrations aiding his work on your clit. If he could spend the rest of the night between your legs overstimulating you he would. Every sound and movement in reaction to the way he's making you feel fuling him on. He's messy as he buries his face into you, all of your wetness gathered on his tongue as he circles your bundle of nerves, sucking deeply making you roll your head back. Your second orgasm is blinding as he presses two fingers into you, the pressure making you see spots, legs closing in around his ears. 

When beomgyu pulls away your legs feel weak when they rest back on the bed. He kisses up your stomach, loving your uneven breathing as you try to come back to reality. His mouth is all over you, tongue trialing your skin before he finds your nipples. Taking his time with each he lightly tugs them between his teeth, sucking along the delicate flesh leaving marks up and down your body. beomgyus thinking about seeing all the hickeys he's leaving on you when you stream, everyone knowing someone had their mouth on you. The thought alone has him humping into the mattress, your giggles waking him up as you run your thumb over his cheek, “who knew beomiebear would be so needy,” 

“only for you,” he confesses kissing your extended wrist, “please let me fuck you, please,” 

you don’t hesitate to let your legs fall open wider as an invitation beomgyus cock already pressed against your thigh, sticky still from earlier. “you don’t need to beg,” 

you help him guide himself to your entrance, mushroom tip pressing in enough to make you shiver, mouth opening in a silent moan at the feeling. beomgyu can’t contain his noises, eyes glued to where the two of you are connected. He pushed in further the sight of him disappearing into your cunt like a beacon he won’t look away from. He doesn’t look up to see your face until he gives one last thrust to fully knock his pelvis to yours. Your head is rolled back with that hazy fucked out expression and he’s hardly done anything at all. he rolls his hips back before pushing all the way back in your whimper tearing him apart. “you feel so fucking good,” 

beomgyu sits back on his heels dragging you with him, hands holding your hips as your back arches. The angle pushing him right against your gspot, your feet digging Into the mattress as gyu frantically picks up his pace. He guides your body down on his cock, every thrust making your boobs bounce. beomgyu is lost in the feeling, desperate whimpers escaping him, veins in his hands and arms bulging from his hold on you. 

“beomie,” the name slipping so easily, the whine making beomgyu feel like any second he would cum especially when you felt this warm, this wet. He was using you like his own personal cock sleeve focused solely on getting his cum as deep as possible into you. 

Blindly you reached out next to you for the vibrator, finding it and turning it on pressing it to your clit. beomgyu can feel his orgasm building aided by the way you’re squeezing him. Sloppily thrusting he feels the tightness in his balls, he presses as close as he can get himself to you. 

The fucked out expression on his face as his hot cum spills inside you triggers your orgasm, the wand pressed to your clit also pressed to the base of his cock overstimulating the both of you. You go to move it but beomgyu’s hand shoots out holding the vibrator in place watching the way your body convulses. Thighs trying to close in around him, your cries loud enough you know you’ll get a noise complaint. But beomgyu’s cock is still pulsing your body milking him in a way no one ever has before. 

It’s only when he sees the tears in your eyes that he pulls the wand away, switching it off and laying himself onto you. His mouth is on your neck, hammering pulse pressed to his lips as he gives you slow soft thrusts making sure you’re stuffed full of his cum. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers curling in the sweaty strands of hair at the base of his neck. Both of you catch your breath slowly coming back to yourselves. 

When he pulls out you feel the overwhelming gush of your combined cum slipping out and down to puddle on the mattress. beomgyu sat back watching in amazement. “I’ve always wanted to see what your pussy would look like after i was done with it,” two fingers scooping up anything he could to stuff it right back in.

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 
@tomorrowxforever @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 
@cypher-03 @midnight-mochii @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 
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and a very special thank you to @fairyofshampgyu for beta reading this for me <33333