#the soft adoration in silver's face!!!

[irafuwas]

I got my Silkali commission back from the amazing Neel (@litheneel) just in time for Valentine's Day and I absolutely adore how it turned out!! 🥹🥰

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: yandere, captive reader, Stockholm syndrome

♡ FEM reader

“I’m back,” he calls out softly once opening the door.

You’re already there—must have heard him drive up then padded over—standing there, wordlessly awaiting his kiss. You don’t notice it yourself, though he does, how you get up on your tippy-toes and meet him halfway. You’ve been doing it for a while now. It’s really cute. And so he doesn’t say anything on it—doesn’t want to spook the habit.

“Welcome home,” you say, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you soft and snugly against his chest—smiling at how you nuzzle into it—yet another cute thing you’ve started doing lately.  

“Mh-thank you, sweetheart—feels good,” he coos into your hair, petting it smoothly while you stand there, neither of you pulling away. “What did you do today?”

You sigh and sink further into his embrace, mumbling, “Same as any other day…” almost sulkily. “Just waiting for you.”

He chuckles, “Oh, that’s not true. I saw you watching something—anything fun?”

You hum, hiding your face in his chest, mumbling into it, “Not really… just binging another franchise they decided to ruin...” You shift and look up at him, keeping your chin on his chest while grumbling, “I don’t understand why they’d reboot something just to completely disregard everything it originally stood for—and all the effects just make it look cheap.”

He can’t help but chuckle again, ruffling your hair with a fond smile. “You’re such a nerd.” He could eat you up the way you are right now, plated on a silver platter for him all so willingly. “A cute nerd, though.”

You pout, “Honestly, what’s going on out there? I barely understand anything I’m watching anymore—it’s all alien to me.”

His hug on you tightens, but you don’t flinch like you used to—even as the look in his eyes darkens along with his words. “Yeah, the world’s gone mad. You’re better off in here.”

You smile then—agreeing for once. It’s also a new and adorable habit. And then you unzip his jacket for him, helping it off his shoulders and hanging it up for him—all so naturally. Looking back at him while asking, “And how was your day?”

He smiles while beholding you—to think such a question would ever leave your lips all so domestically—it’s enough to make his chest swell. Then with an exaggerated sigh, he whines, “Absolutely horrible without you,” wrapping you up in another hug, this time from behind, nuzzling his chin into the ticklish skin of your neck—making you giggle. Arms around your front, swaying you back against him. “Every second, I was counting down ‘til when I could come home to you.”

“Is that right?” You grin at his gesture—twisting around so that you could look at him straight. Slouched as he stood, all but draping you with his taller form—eyes leveled with yours, half-mast and adoringly admiring you like his most precious thing—his sweet loving girlfriend.

You cup his face in both hands, thinking the same of him—your sweet loving boyfriend. You’re about to kiss him, but then, struck by the thought, there’s a sudden freight in your chest that follows, and you jolt back as if he’d burned you.

He stills, warm expression twisting to one of concern. “Hey—” Stepping after you with his hands laid on your forearms, giving you a small squeeze. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” You don’t know, you think. Something’s off. Something’s not right—about his touch, about your heart, about all of it. “I’m just…” 

You think about it, eyes skittering over his face—did you always look at his face? Since when did he become so familiar? Since when did you walk around wanting to see it?

“I just…” the words feel all strange in your mouth, but there’s no denying there’s truth in them. “I missed you.”

His features blank at that, blinking at you. “Oh…” Then he softens—smiles with a chuckle, “Well, I’m home now, so…” His head slants, looking at you in askance as he gently brings a hand up to thumb your chin. “What’s with this pouty face?”

You bite your lip. There’s so much noise in your chest—so many conflicting feelings. You’ve begun missing him when he’s gone—when he leaves you. You’ve started wishing for his return, spending your day in wait. Since when did you start doing that?

It’s not right.

“I’m slipping,” your voice is shaken and weak, eyes welling up with thick water enough to have him look blurry—you shake your head and squeeze them shut—making the tears fall quickly. “I’m not supposed to miss you—” you cry. “That’s not right. I’m not—you’re not—”

Not your boyfriend.

“Hey, hey, sweetie. It’s okay,” he cuts your sob off with two warm hands placing themselves on your wettened cheeks, holding you tenderly. You layer yours on top of his, feeling it’s the only thing keeping you from spiraling into oblivion. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” he coos, smearing out your teardrops, making them dry. “It was gonna happen sooner or later, right?”

Your eyes peel and look at him—through the veil. His face is a comfort—though you feel strange seeing it as such, when you know, even though most of you has decided to forget, that he’s a psychotic stalker who’s kidnapped you and held you captive for what must be closing in on a year already.

“Don’t feel bad—it’s only natural,” he assures, pulling you into his chest again—both arms around you snugly with his chin on top of your head, gently rocking you from side to side. “Everything’s fine. So you’re losing your mind a little—we’ll just find something else for you to think about. Right? Is there anything you want? Anything I can get you? More clothes? Sweets? Something fun? Maybe you can take up another hobby?”

He loosens his hold to look down at you—his face warm with devout for you, with a wordless vow saying he’ll do everything, give you anything in return for your happiness.  

You love him, you realize then with a shudder.

You’re in love with your crazy captor—your batshit lovesick oversweet captor who shares your bed and treats you like a spoiled pet. And it’s so fucked up—so, so very fucked up, so very fucking fucked up. But it’s true—you’re in love with him. And you have been for a while.

“What do you say?” he asks in hope.

Yet, you can’t say it out loud. No, not yet—it still feels all so wrong. But, at the same time, you don’t think there’s a need for you to put it into words for him. He’s always known you better than you have yourself, after all. And that wholesome smile on his face says it all—he already knows.

“No… I just,” you start, staring into his eyes—those full-loving eyes that look at you as if you’re the only thing of value in the whole entire world. “I just want…” It’s a scary confession—both admitting it to yourself and him. “You.” 

You look down, curling your fingers into his shirt.

“I don’t need anything else.”

It’s the truth and nothing but the truth—albeit a somewhat sad truth. It’s your one wish—your only wish. You just want him—to stay, to hold you, to kiss you. You can’t even think of wanting anything else anymore.

“Oh, well, that’s easy, isn’t it?” he says, stroking your cheeks, fishing for your shy gaze—smiling once hooking it—pretty teary puppy eyes, lost and looking for directions. 

Don’t worry—he’s here to help.

“Where do you want me then, sweetheart?” His lips near your forehead. “Here?” He gives it a chaste kiss, earning your sniffle, then ducks down to your neck. “Or here, maybe?” Giving that a kiss as well, this time with more behind it, sucking the skin with a soft bite. 

“Or maybe…” His voice is low, and it makes your skin buzz with a desire just as dark—shivering with it as his lips ghost yours. “Here?”

You hang in his hold, leaning after it.

But he just smiles, “Tell me, sweetheart—where do you want me?”

Your lip wobbles, brows cinched as your balled fists needily pull him close—yearning for it.

“Everywhere.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[krenenbaker]

oh... my gosh

It's so beautiful? so soft?? I mean, the shapes? the colours? the flowers? his expression?

This genuinely made me cry. What a beautiful piece!

He’s so pretty

[uravitypng]

big beefy number one pro hero deku is absolutely smitten with you, his chubby little girlfriend, and yeah you're a little bit of an airhead sometimes but that makes you all the more endearing to him.

prior to meeting you he used to feel embarrassed whenever he'd ramble too long about heroes or quirks. after some time people would drown him out after he started his disjointed babbling, not wanting to listen to him ramble. with you it's different, the first time it happened he went to apologise to you. jirou once told him he should try and apologise if he realised he did it to strangers afterwards- especially now that he's a pro hero.

so he goes to stammer out an apology after realising he spoke to you uninterrupted about all might's golden age for five minutes and you tilt your head and giggle at him. izuku draws in a breath. "why are you apologising deku? i really liked hearing you speak. what about his other ages?"

izuku felt like he was malfunctioning, "what?"

you bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling again. who knew pro hero deku is so cute? "like the silver age and the bronze age? are those all the ages or is there like a platinum age too?" izuku grins, you're so interested in what he has to say he can't help it. "wait was is all might's quirk again? he's like strong right? that's his quirk."

izuku pauses for a second before barking out a laugh. you pout and glare at him feigned annoyance. 'she's so adorable and ditzy. i need to speak to her again.'

you constantly praise him, not just for hero work either, and ever single time it makes his entire face red. it doesn't matter that you've been dating for four years now and izuku's brought an engagement ring, he still gets flustered with all the compliments.

people compliment him all the time, it comes with the job, but when you do it it means so much more. " 'zuku you're so brave!" "i don't understand this at all izuku, can you explain it too me? you're the smartest person i know." "you're so pretty." "your hair is so soft." "you're the best hero ever!"

a light sheen of sweat covers your forehead after being manhandled by your boyfriend into the cowgirl position, he loves holding onto your love handles and moving you up and down on his cock, with each bounce your body jiggles. you'll lay in bed with your face buried in his chest as you trace the scars on his arms with your fingertips lightly, "you're so strong izuku." you turn to face him and your chubby cheeks lift as you smile. "i'm so proud of you." his heart skips a beat. he's never loved anyone more than he loves you.

izuku gets possessive of you, he doesn't like people touching you. you're his. before you he never thought he would be jealous or possessive but then you came into his life and he nearly broke the glass of champagne he was holding when he saw todoroki talk to you. he knows todoroki doesn't like you like that, he's liked yaoyorozu since ua but he was too close to you and izuku hated it. his legs moved before he could think, walking up to you both with a forced smile on his face. he wraps his arm around your soft waist, tightly, and kisses your forehead. you smile sweetly at him and lean into his body. izuku brought you home earlier than you thought he would that night, holding onto your thick thigh with one hand while his other hand is on the steering wheel, driving you both home.

his jealous nature was cemented a week after when he saw kaminari talking to you. not just talking to you- flirting with you. if izuku was holding a glass like he was last time he most certainly would of smashed it in anger. you don't even realise what kaminari is doing and izuku knows you don't.

you listen to him talk intently and nod your head, you smile at him and laugh at his jokes. to some people they would think this would be you flirting back but you're not, you're just trying to be nice. kaminari has decided to talk to you and you want to be kind and listen to what he has to say and izuku has really admired that quality about you but right now he wishes you could pick up on the clear signs that kaminari is giving you.

izuku snaps when he sees kaminari look at your cleavage and glance at your body, his eyes lingering on your plush thighs. his voice is strained as he pulls you away from kaminari making some half-arsed, offhanded excuse as he takes you home immediately.

when he saves a small child and he gives them his award winning grin all he can think about afterwards is you. 'who are our kids going to look like? will they have my freckles? or maybe her hair? if they're half as cute as her they'll be the cutest kids ever.' he's already planning their bedrooms and his eyes drift to the baby clothes section at stores.

your boyfriend has the biggest breeding kink known to man and you get reminded of that as he folds your body into a mating press and groans deeply in your ear, "can't wait to see your soft body get softer puppy, promise i'll look after, you won't have to lift a finger." you loudly whine, grabbing hold of his large arms, every thrust causes a loud slapping sound with how wet you are. "you're gonna look so pretty puppy. i'm going to pump you full, make sure you don't spill any for me, just like the good girl you are."

izuku adores you and you feel exactly the same about him.

[sushiyuzu]

emotional support

warning: fluff + tension — your boobs become soft!sylus’ emotional support 🙈 [ x fem!reader ]

- second acc: @blushpawss

you were relaxing on the bed after a long day, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, when you heard the door creak open. without looking, you knew it was sylus. you could tell by the way he moved, the quiet confidence in his steps, the aura he carried everywhere he went.

“hey,” you greeted softly, glancing up at him with a small smile. “everything okay?”

he didn’t respond right away. instead, he just stood at the edge of the bed, his usual stoic expression fixed on his face. crimson eyes locked on you, but there was something softer in them, something vulnerable he rarely showed.

before you could ask again, he moved. in one swift motion, he climbed onto the bed, gently pushing you back until you were lying down. his movements were deliberate, yet there was no urgency—just a quiet need.

“sylus?” you asked, your voice holding a hint of confusion as he positioned himself on top of you, his head resting squarely between your boobs.

“don’t,” he murmured against your chest, his voice slightly muffled by your shirt. “just... let me.”

you blinked, caught off guard by how soft his voice sounded. usually, sylus was the picture of control, always so serious and composed. but right now, he was melting into you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if you were his lifeline.

“okay,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. “you wanna talk about it?”

he shook his head, his face completely buried in your chest now. “no. just need this,” he said, his breath warm against your skin. “need you.”

you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was being. despite his tough exterior, sylus always had this soft, clingy side when it came to you. it was a side he didn’t show to anyone else, a side he only let out when he felt safe in your presence.

“rough day?” you asked, your fingers automatically threading through his silver hair, stroking it gently.

“you have no idea,” he muttered, his voice muffled by your chest. “the meetings, the arguments, the constant surveillance... it’s exhausting.”

you chuckled softly. “and i’m your emotional support pillow now?”

“more like emotional support boobs,” he mumbled, pressing his face even deeper between your breasts, his voice filled with that rare, teasing warmth he only used with you. “they’re soft... and they’re mine.”

“oh, they’re yours, huh?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“absolutely, kitten,” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your skin as he spoke. “this is the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

you felt a warm flutter in your chest at his words, your hands continuing their gentle path through his hair. “well, if it helps, you can stay like this as long as you need.”

he didn’t reply right away, but the way his arms tightened around you spoke volumes. sylus was never the type to openly ask for affection, but you could always tell when he needed it. and when he did, he clung to you like this, as if you were his anchor in a world that constantly demanded his strength.

“i don’t deserve you,” he whispered after a long moment, his voice low, almost vulnerable.

you frowned, lightly tugging at his hair to get his attention. “hey, don’t say that.”

he finally lifted his head slightly, just enough to look at you with those intense crimson eyes. there was a flicker of something raw in them, something he rarely let anyone see. “i’m serious,” he said quietly. “you’re too good to me. i don’t know how you put up with me.”

you rolled your eyes, though your heart ached a little at how sincere he sounded. “because i love you, you idiot,” you said, smiling softly as you cupped his cheek. “and you’re not half as bad as you think.”

his gaze softened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, like he was memorizing your face. then, without warning, he dropped his head back down, once again burying his face between your boobs.

“whatever,” he muttered, his voice muffled again. “i’m staying here forever.”

you laughed, your chest shaking as you tried to wiggle beneath him. “sylus, you’re heavy!”

“deal with it,” he grumbled, nuzzling further into you. “this is my safe space now.”

“oh my god,” you groaned, though you were smiling the whole time. “you’re ridiculous.”

he didn’t say anything, but you could feel his lips curve into a small smile against your skin. for a man who always had to be serious and strong in front of others, sylus was the clingiest, neediest person when he was with you. and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“you know,” you said after a moment, “if anyone else saw you like this, they’d never believe it. mr. serious, always-in-control sylus, reduced to a cuddle bug.”

he made a low sound of protest, tightening his hold on you. “don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he mumbled. “this is just for you.”

your heart melted at that. despite all his tough talk, sylus had such a soft spot for you. you were the one person who could break through his walls, the one he trusted with his vulnerable side.

“i’m glad it’s just for me,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “i love this side of you.”

he didn’t say anything, but you felt his fingers gently trace the curve of your waist, his touch light and reverent. for a while, you both just lay there in comfortable silence, his body completely relaxed on top of yours, his face still nestled securely in your chest.

“don’t ever let me go,” he whispered after a long while, his voice soft, almost sleepy.

“never,” you promised, your hands still stroking his hair.

he sighed in contentment, his breathing slowing as he settled more comfortably against you. “good,” he muttered, his voice drowsy now. “i’ll always need you.”

you smiled, feeling a warm glow of happiness spread through you. “and i’ll always be here.”

he nuzzled you one last time before drifting off, completely relaxed and at peace in your arms. and as you held him close, you realized just how much you loved this man—the serious, strong protector everyone else saw, and the soft, affectionate, clingy sylus that only you knew.

[chxnsgirl]

방찬 x 한 x you ─── needy

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] dom!bangchan x sub!han x sub afab!reader . hard dom!chan, brief sub x sub , praise kink , degradation kink , degrading praise , dirty talk , name calling , teasing , oral (m. & f. rec) , face fucking , hair pulling , overstimulation , cunt slapping , use of sex toy , aftercare at the end ♡ ♡ synopsis ― bored and horny, you decide to play with jisung while you wait for chan. however, it doesn't go as planned. [ 5.6k words ] ♡ ― this took me so long because i got caught up with work n had motivation problems.. im so sorry if this is bad jfdklsjgkflf semi proofread. ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

you lay sprawled on your bed, fresh from a warm shower. the soft scent of lilies clung to your skin, and your pretty nightgown flowed loosely around you, paired with fuzzy socks that added to your cozy look. it was a quiet, almost too quiet, night. jisung was in his room across the hall, unusually silent, and chan was still at the studio, leaving the house with an air of emptiness that made you feel a bit lonely.

as if sensing your mood, han peeked into your room. his soft footsteps barely made a sound, but when his gaze landed on you, lying on your stomach with your phone in hand, his expression melted. you looked up at him, your face lighting up with a warmth that made his heart flutter.

“hi, sungie!” you chirped, sitting up on your knees and smiling brightly.

“hi,” he replied softly, stepping inside and taking a seat on the edge of your bed. his hands fidgeted slightly as he glanced at you. “what are you doing?”

“just scrolling,” you said, holding up your phone. without hesitation, you shifted closer, curling up beside him as you opened the app you’d been browsing. “look at these shoes! aren’t they cute?” your eyes sparkled as you showed him a pair of pastel pink platform mary janes, your excitement contagious.

han’s lips curved into a small, fond smile. “you’d look adorable in them,” he murmured, his hand drifting to rest gently on your thigh. his fingers brushed the hem of your nightgown as he spoke, the tender gesture warming you further. “i’ll tell chan to get them for you when he finally gets home—if he ever does.”

you huffed, a playful pout forming on your lips as you set your phone on the nightstand. “he’s been working late too much lately,” you grumbled, leaning back into the pillows dramatically.

han laid down beside you, propping his head on his hand as he watched you. “at least he warned us this time instead of waking us up at 3 a.m. banging around the kitchen,” he teased, his tone lighthearted.

you giggled at the memory, your pout giving way to a smile. “true. that was the worst. i almost threw a pillow at him.”

han chuckled, his face softening as he rested his cheek against the pillow. his fingers absentmindedly spun the silver ring on his finger while his eyes lingered on your face, admiring your playful demeanor. 

“still, he’s so mean for making me wait!” you whined, your fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of han’s shirt. the soft fabric twisted between your fingertips as your pout deepened. “especially when i’m so…” you trailed off, your cheeks warming as the words caught in your throat.

han tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his gaze as he waited for you to continue. a sly idea sparked in your mind, and you bit your lip before finishing your thought with a quiet, mischievous tone. “…horny.”

han’s face flushed instantly, his eyes widening as if your words had jolted life into him. he blinked, struggling to process, his gaze flickering over you before landing back on your face. “you’re… but channie isn’t…” he began to stammer, his voice soft and unsure.

you placed a finger to his lips to shush him, your grin widening with playful mischief. “what if,” you suggested, crawling closer to him, “we played a little? just while we wait for channie to come home.” you knelt beside him on the bed, your eyes glinting with anticipation as you watched him wrestle with your proposal.

han’s face was a shade of pink that rivaled the shoes you’d shown him earlier. his gaze traveled down your form, hesitant and thoughtful, before he looked back up to meet your eyes. “but what if he gets mad?” he whispered, as if chan could somehow overhear your scheming.

your grin turned into a smirk, a spark of daring lighting up your features. “that’s what makes it more fun, hannie!” you teased, your voice bubbling with excitement.

han’s lips parted as if to protest, but he quickly closed them, his blush deepening as he fidgeted with the hem of his own shirt. “um… okay,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “but i’m not really feeling, uh, dominant right now…”

you nodded, leaning down so your face was close to his, your voice soft and coaxing. “me neither. but we can make it work, right?” you tilted your head, your expression hopeful as you sought his approval.

han swallowed hard, his fidgeting slowing as he considered your words. finally, he nodded, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “mhm. yeah, w-we can.”

without another word, you leaned down, running your soft hands along his chest, and giving him tender kisses on his lips. he let out a soft moan in response, leaning into you immediately. 

you felt a spark of exhilaration coursing through you, a mixture of excitement and mischief that left your heart racing. the thought alone—breaking from your usual routine, giving in to this shared craving without waiting for chan—was equal parts thrilling and nerve-wracking.

usually, the three of you would play together. it was a dynamic you were used to, one that felt safe and familiar. you and han would put on a playful show for chan when he got home, teasing and coaxing him into joining. but now, this was different. you weren’t waiting.

the idea was so naughty, so completely against the unspoken rules you’d all naturally fallen into. it sent a shiver through you, equal parts apprehension and desire. the risk made it even hotter—knowing that chan might come home at any moment, that he might catch you in the act, might see how you and han had caved to your shared need before he could take control of the situation.

han seemed to be feeling the same rush, his nervous fidgeting giving way to a subtle shift in his expression. he wasn’t bold by nature, but there was something in his eyes now—a flicker of curiosity, of shared rebellion—that matched the spark in your own.

this wasn’t your first time playing with jisung, not by a long shot. the two of you had shared plenty of intimate moments before, exploring each other’s desires under chan’s guidance or as part of your playful trio. you were no strangers to each other’s touches, no strangers to the way your chemistry crackled when the mood struck.

but this? this was different. you’d never done this together when both of you were feeling like this—soft, shy, hesitant, both naturally leaning toward the same submissive energy. there was no one to take the lead, no steady hand or commanding voice to guide you.

in a frenzy of passion, you and jisung were already intertwined and touching each other. your movements were needy and hurried, driven by an insatiable desire for each other. you clung to him, wrapping your body around his as you straddled him. whimpers escaped your lips as you ground against him through his sweatpants.

jisung was already achingly hard, unable to resist the urge to touch and be touched by you. "y/n," he whispered desperately, his fingertips digging into your thighs as he guided your movements. "sungie," you moaned in response, leaning forward and clinging onto the pillows in an attempt to steady yourself.

his hands roamed upwards, pushing up your nightgown to reveal your light pink panties that were now rubbing against his hardened member with fervent urgency.

his voice was laced with sweetness as he asked, "can i see you, y/n?" you nodded eagerly, a giddy excitement bubbling in your chest. his hands clenched the bottom of your nightgown, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion.

now clad only in fuzzy socks and panties, you resumed grinding against him, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his clothes. with each movement, he grew more flushed and his hands became bolder and more eager, exploring every inch of your skin with an intoxicating fervor. his fingertips dug into your breasts, pinching and teasing your nipples, while his palms kneaded and caressed your flesh.

lost in your heated touches and kisses, both you and jisung missed the text from chan, announcing that he’d be leaving a couple hours early. “lemme taste you,” han said shyly, slight pleading laced in his voice. he tugged a little on your panties and you whined at his words. “mmh, okay, hannie.” you giggled, rolling off him for a moment and pushing your panties off. 

he laid back against the bed, head by the foot-end, waiting eagerly for you to sit on his face. you crawled up, your soft, velvety thighs on either side of his head as you hesitantly hovered above his waiting mouth.

 he wrapped his arms around your thighs and impatiently yanked you down, immediately latching his mouth to your sopping cunt. his mouth worked urgently, his tongue swiped over your wet folds quickly, drinking you in. 

you let out a shocked moan, watching him bury his face in your mound. he flicked his tongue on your clit, the lewd noises making you both blush. “oh-oh, hannie, right there!” you cried, reaching down and gripping his hair in an attempt to hold his head still. 

lost in pleasure, you began to desperately ride his face, grinding your clit onto his tongue, your hips rolling quickly. you didn’t even notice that one of han’s hands left your thigh to pull his leaking cock out and stroke it. he whimpered against your cunt, his hand pumping furiously around his length as he ate you up like he was starving. 

“sungie, i’m s-so close,” you panted, tugging on his hair with both strands as you chased your orgasm. he let out a choked moan in response, too consumed by you to respond coherently. he cried against your flesh, only adding vibrations and heightening your pleasure. 

with a cry, you came, falling forward and gripping onto the footboard until your knuckles turned white, your overstimulated cunt still grinding up against han’s swollen lips. he made out with your sex, too pussydrunk to pull away on his own. you let out a weak whine, finally looking up from the floor to see chan standing in the doorway.

your breath hitched, and you pulled yourself off han’s mouth, making him whine from the loss of you. “y/n,” he pouted, before following your gaze. he blushed and tried to cover himself up. 

chan stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on the scene before him. his expression was unreadable, a mixture of disappointment, frustration, and something darker simmering beneath the surface. the intensity of his presence was enough to make you freeze, your hands faltering on the footboard as the weight of the situation settled over you.

“what,” chan’s voice was calm, low, and dangerously controlled, “do you two think you’re doing?”

jisung shifted uncomfortably, still flushed and disheveled. you squeaked, grabbing the nearest blanket to cover yourself as you avoided chan’s piercing gaze.

“channie, i—” you began, your voice trembling, but he held up a hand to silence you.

“i don’t remember giving either of you permission to start without me,” he said, his tone sharp but measured. he stepped into the room, his movements deliberate, his presence filling the space. “is that how we do things now? you just… indulge yourselves while i’m gone?”

jisung whimpered, sitting up on the bed with his head bowed, propped up on his elbow. “we didn’t mean to—”

“didn’t mean to?” chan cut him off, his voice rising slightly, though still calm. “because it looks to me like you knew exactly what you were doing. both of you.”

he turned his gaze to you, and the weight of his stare made you squirm. “look at me,” he commanded, his voice firm. slowly, you lifted your eyes to meet his, your cheeks burning with shame.

“do you know how disappointed i am?” he continued, his tone softer now but no less commanding. “i expect better from both of you. you know the rules, don’t you?”

“yes, channie,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“then why did you break them?” his question hung in the air, and the silence that followed felt oppressive.

“we were just…” jisung tried to explain, but the words faltered on his tongue.

chan let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took a few more steps into the room, his commanding presence never wavering. “you’re both going to make this up to me,” he said finally, his tone leaving no room for argument. “but first, you’re going to tell me exactly why you thought this was a good idea.”

his eyes flicked between you and jisung, his gaze expectant. neither of you dared to speak at first, the tension thick in the room.

“well?” he prompted, crossing his arms again. “i’m waiting.”

“i was just so.. worked up, and.. you weren’t gonna be home for a few hours..” you trailed off, a blush of embarrassment painting your cheeks. 

chan was well aware that you were the instigator. han would never have dared to break the rules on his own; he was easily swayed into mischief, especially if it meant indulging in moments with you. chan knew exactly who the true brat between the two of you was.

his eyes roamed over you and jisung, and a playful twinkle sparked in his eye, as if he noticed something. 

he walked over to you both, tsking. “you two made quiet the mess, didn’t you?” he said lowly, eyes flicking from you to han, who was tugging his shirt down over his tummy for the life of him. “what? no..” you objected, straightening up. chan reached you both, pulling han’s shirt up to reveal his cum-covered stomach. 

“are you sure?” he asked, a brow raised. you bit your tongue, your heart thumping. han must of came while you were sitting on his face. you looked from the mess on his stomach to look at han. han blushed, avoiding eye contact with both of you. 

“clean him up,” chan said firmly, his eyes not leaving yours. “wh-what?” you stuttered, clutching the blanket to your chest. “you heard me,” he took the blanket from around your body, tossing it on the other side of the bed, before petting the back of your head. “clean him up.” 

you swallowed hard, crawling back towards jisung on trembling hands and knees. both of your faces were flushed a deep shade of red, feeling exposed and caught in this intimate moment. but you trusted chan, knowing he would never make you do something you didn't want to do. and you all had established a safeword to use if things ever got too intense.

seeing chan worked up and angry only added to the heat pooling between your thighs. jisung bit his lip, watching as you leaned forward and stuck your tongue out, licking up the droplets of his release that had landed on his stomach. you took your time, savoring the taste and the sensation of your tongue against his skin.

as you bent down to clean up the mess, a hand glided over your inner thigh, causing you to shiver with anticipation. chan was teasingly prodding at your swollen pussy, gauging just how aroused you were. his touch sent sparks of pleasure through your body.

suddenly, you felt a sharp sting on your sex, causing you to yelp and jolt. "such a dirty girl, playing without me.." chan almost growled, rubbing your clit with agonizing slowness. you couldn't help but whimper quietly, peeking back at him with pleading eyes. he met your gaze, his own dark with lust and something else that made your heart race even faster. "quiet," he ordered firmly before giving your cunt another stinging slap.

you bit back a moan, squeezing your eyes shut. han squirmed, the scene in front of him daring to make him hard once again. “play with han while i play with your little cunt,” he instructed, dipping behind you on the bed. you looked up at han, who was still a shy, fidgety mess. 

as you leaned forward, your heart raced at the intensity of the situation. you were hyper aware of every sound in the room—the rustle of fabric, the low hum of chan’s steady breathing behind you, and the soft, stifled noises jisung made as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock.

jisung shuddered beneath you, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly as he tried to keep still. his lips parted as a quiet whimper escaped, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the reaction you drew from him.

behind you, chan’s hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer to him as his other hand explored the wetness between your thighs. his touch was calculated, purposeful, and every slow stroke sent sparks shooting through your body.

“look at you,” chan murmured, his voice dripping with dominance. “so eager to please now that you’ve been caught. where was all this obedience earlier?”

you moaned softly against jisung, the vibrations making him squirm under your touch. chan’s hand gripped your hair, tugging your head up slightly to make you pause. “i asked you a question,” he said, his tone sharper now.

“s-sorry, channie,” you stammered, your voice breathless.

“sorry isn’t going to cut it,” he said, letting go of your hair and giving your ass a sharp slap that made you yelp. “you’re going to show me you’re sorry.”

he spread you open further, his fingers sliding into you effortlessly as he worked you with precision. you gasped, struggling to focus on jisung, whose flushed face and trembling hands showed he was on the verge of losing himself.

“eyes on him,” chan ordered, his fingers curling inside you just right. “he’s your responsibility now. make him feel good while i remind you who you belong to.”

you nodded quickly, returning your attention to jisung as your hand wrapped around his base, your lips sliding down his length with practiced ease. he whined, his cock becoming fully hard now due to your ministrations. he bucked his hips slightly, unable to control his reactions, his shy demeanor melting away as pleasure overtook him.

chan’s rhythm behind you was relentless, his free hand gripping your waist tightly to hold you in place. he leaned forward, his breath warm against your skin. “that’s it,” he purred, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “such a good little whore, aren’t you?”

your body was alight with sensation, torn between the overwhelming pleasure chan was giving you and the thrill of hearing jisung’s soft, broken cries as he teetered on the edge. 

the room was suffused with heat, every motion and sound building the intensity between the three of you. jisung's broken whimpers filled the air as he trembled beneath you, his body straining against the pleasure you were giving him.

behind you, you heard the clinking of metal and the shuffle of fabric, you could only assume he was freeing himself from his pants. chan’s grip on your hips tightened, and you could feel the heat of his body pressing closer to yours.  

you gasped softly, feeling his cock brush against your slick lips, and he ground himself against them, lubricating himself.  before you could respond, chan leaned over you, his breath warm against your back as his fingers dug into your waist. “keep your focus on hannie, baby.” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

you nodded obediently, your lips wrapping around jisung’s cock again, savoring the way he moaned your name in soft, desperate breaths. his hips bucked slightly, and you held him steady, your hand stroking him in tandem with your mouth.  

chan shifted behind you as he guided himself to your entrance. the blunt, thick head of his cock pressed against your soaked folds, and you tensed in anticipation, your body already aching to feel him fill you.  

“relax,” chan whispered, his hand stroking your back in a fleeting moment of gentleness. then, with one smooth thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. a sharp cry escaped your lips, muffled around jisung as the sudden fullness sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you.  

chan groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch. “you’re squeezing me, baby,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. “mm.. f-fuck.”  

you whimpered against jisung, your body trembling as chan began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one drawing a broken moan from your lips. jisung was a writhing mess beneath you, his hands clutching at the sheets as his own pleasure built.  

“don’t stop,” chan growled, his pace quickening, his voice sending a thrill through you. “make him come for me. show him how good you are.”  

driven by his command, you redoubled your efforts on jisung, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring him closer to the edge. the sounds of his moans and chan’s deep, guttural groans blended into a symphony of raw, unrestrained desire.  

every thrust from chan sent you spiraling further into bliss, your body caught between the overwhelming pleasure of being filled by him and the intoxicating power of watching jisung fall apart under your touch.  

“such a perfect little thing,” chan murmured, his voice strained as his movements grew rougher. jisung sat up, little whimpers leaving his lips as he neared release. he propped himself up on his elbow with one arm, the other hand leaving the sheets to grip your hair. “a-ah, g-gonna cum,” he whined, his brows knitting together.

chan leaned forward, pushing your head slightly. “take all of him, or i pull out right now,” he ordered, his voice low and intimidating. you whimpered in response, but you obeyed, leaning down and deepthroating jisung. 

his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell back against the bed once again, both hands gripping your hair as he thrusted up into your throat. “c-coming!” he cried, holding your head down, your nose touching his base as he erupted in your throat. chan’s pace was unrelenting, he kept ramming into you as you throated han. 

you gagged and coughed, your eyes watering as you looked up at jisung. chan growled, slapping your ass harshly, making the sound almost echo in the room. he dug his nails into your stinging skin, making you yelp around jisung’s overstimulated cock. “swallow it all..” chan demanded, his voice hoarse. 

you obeyed and swallowed all you could, then licked any remainders off han’s length. han panted, nearly boneless underneath you and chan, his eyes glazed over. 

chan pulled out momentarily, his hands still on your hips. “sung, come here.” he said firmly as han tucked himself back into his sweatpants shyly. chan whispered in han’s ear for a few seconds, before turning his attention back to you as han left the room. he helped flip you onto your back, using his hands to part your pretty thighs. 

“there’s my dirty little girl,” he ran his hands up your sides, before groping and kneading your tits. “sungie’s getting you a surprise,” he grinned, squeezing your mounds roughly. your heart raced in anticipation, and as if on cue, han returned, a wand vibrator in hand.

you whined, knowing what was coming. “no, channie, please, i-” 

chan interrupted you with a sharp slap to your cunt, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. “you don’t get a say.” he growled, gripping your thighs and tugging you closer to him. “you lost that when you decided to be a bad girl and play without me.” you whimpered, biting your lip as he caught his dick with his thumb and pushed it back inside you. 

jisung looked down at you with a sympathetic look as he sat next to you on the bed. he felt bad that you were getting the punishment, even though technically you did start it. chan’s strokes were slow, deliberate, and teasing. his strong, veiny hands pushed your thighs down against your torso, practically folding you in half. 

“do it, han.” chan said, making sure to give han access to between your legs. han turned on the massager, putting it on the highest setting. he dragged it against your pubic bone before pressing it to your clit right away. you cried out, whimpering. your cunt fluttered around chan, earning a quiet groan of satisfaction from him. 

chan leaned back, giving han room to press it firmer against your skin. you clawed at the bedding under you, your thighs shaking violently. “n-no, too much!” you gasped, looking up at chan with pleading eyes. he just smirked, speeding up his pace, short pants and breathless moans occasionally leaving his lips. “you say no,” he started, he fingertips digging into your inner thighs. “but your little cunt is saying the opposite, babygirl. gripping me so good, fuck,” 

han pressed the vibrator firmer on your clit, making you squirm and cry out. your legs couldn’t stop shaking, and you were sure you were starting to see stars. 

your body trembled as the relentless sensations built, overwhelming you completely. the combination of chan’s unyielding thrusts and the intense vibrations against your clit sent you hurtling over the edge. a choked scream tore from your lips as your orgasm crashed through you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and clutching desperately at the sheets.

your walls clenched tightly around chan, drawing a low, guttural moan from him as he fought to maintain control. “that’s it, good girl,” he growled, his pace never faltering. “come for me—show me how much you can take.”

but even as your body spasmed and your release soaked his cock, neither of them stopped. the vibrator pressed insistently against your oversensitive clit, and chan’s movements only seemed to grow rougher, pushing you past the threshold of pleasure into the realm of overstimulation.

“p-please, channie,” you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as your body writhed beneath them. “i can’t—it’s too much!”

chan’s eyes darkened with lust as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “you can, and you will,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance. “i’ll decide when you’ve had enough.”

han, emboldened by chan’s control, kept the vibrator pressed firmly to your swollen clit, his own breath hitching as he watched your every reaction. “she looks so pretty like this,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushed with heat.

chan smirked, his hand trailing up your trembling thigh to grip your waist. “she loves it,” he said, his tone firm and confident. “don’t you, baby? you love being pushed past your limits.”

a strangled moan escaped your lips as another wave of pleasure threatened to crest, your overstimulated body betraying you. your hips bucked uncontrollably, chasing the sensations even as they overwhelmed you.

“look at her,” chan continued, his voice laced with pride as he pistoned in and out of you. “she’s taking it so well—my perfect little slut.”

the praise sent shivers down your spine, and before you could protest again, the coil in your tummy snapped once more, a second orgasm crashing into you with devastating force. your cries filled the room as your body convulsed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

still, chan didn’t stop, his cock driving into you with relentless precision, and the vibrator continued to torment your overstimulated clit. the intensity was unbearable, your mind teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” chan murmured, his tone softening just enough to make you feel both cared for and completely under his control. “you can take it. i know you can.”

your body was trembling uncontrollably, every nerve alight with sensation as chan and han worked you mercilessly. the overwhelming combination of chan's deep, unrelenting thrusts and the vibrator against your throbbing clit had you sobbing with pleasure. you had lost track of how many times you’d come, your body wrung out and still teetering on the edge of another release.

“p-please,” you sobbed, your voice cracking with desperation. “it’s too much… i can’t—”

“can’t?” chan repeated mockingly, his smirk dark and unyielding. he leaned down, capturing your tear-streaked face with his intense gaze. “you’ve been saying that for a while now, sweetheart, but look at you.” he punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that made your back arch and another broken cry spill from your lips. “you’re still taking it so well. you were made for this.”

“come on, baby,” chan said, his voice low and laced with hunger. his thrusts grew rougher, each one pushing you closer to the breaking point.

your body arched off the bed as the pressure in your core became unbearable. your moans turned into cries, your legs trembling uncontrollably as another orgasm ripped through you. but even as you came, chan didn’t stop. the overstimulation sent shockwaves through your entire body, making you sob as the vibrator continued to torment your oversensitive clit.

“channie, i—” you tried to form words, but they dissolved into a choked scream as the pressure in your core shifted. the sensation was overwhelming, a heat spreading through you as your body teetered on the brink of something even more intense.

“let go,” chan growled, his pace unrelenting. “come on, sweetheart, one more big one. that’s it.”

han’s expression was full of anticipation as he watched you, his hand caressing the inside of your thigh. 

before he could say something, the dam broke. a gush of liquid escaped you, soaking chan’s thighs and the sheets beneath you as your body convulsed in release. a strangled moan tore from your lips as you completely unraveled, your mind blank and your body overwhelmed by the force of your climax.

“fuck, that’s it,” chan groaned, his hips stuttering as he watched you squirt, his grip on your thighs firm but steadying. “that’s my good girl.”

“are you okay, jagi?” han asked, his voice filled with awe and concern. he reached out hesitantly, running his fingers gently along your trembling thighs. as chan slowed down, giving you time to recuperate. 

you gave him a slow, tiny nod as you lay there, utterly spent, your chest heaving as your body twitched from the aftershocks. chan resumed, gradually speeding back up and giving you the option to tap out if need be. 

chan's thrusts resumed at a steady rhythm, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your every reaction. his grip on your thighs was firm but gentle, ensuring you stayed grounded even as the intensity built once more. your body trembled under him, every nerve still raw and sensitive, but the way he looked at you—equal parts adoration and desire—kept you anchored.

“just a little more, sweetheart,” chan murmured, his voice low and soothing. “you can take it. almost done.”

han stayed close by, his hand still stroking your thigh in comforting circles, his expression soft with concern and admiration. “you’re doing so well, jagiya,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. 

the pace of chan’s hips quickened as his breathing became heavier. his hands slid up to hold your hips, pulling you closer with each thrust. you whimpered softly, your body instinctively responding despite the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

“i’m close,” chan groaned, his voice strained. he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “just stay with me, baby. almost there.”

with a few more deep, powerful thrusts, chan buried himself fully inside you, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he reached his peak. his hips stilled as he released, warmth spreading through you as he held you close, his face buried in the crook of your neck. he littered soft kisses on your jawline and cheeks, then ending them on your lips. 

for a moment, the room was quiet except for the sound of your combined heavy breathing. chan stayed still, letting you both come down from the intensity. then he carefully pulled out, making sure not to cause you any discomfort. han immediately went to go get a warm, damp towel, then he returned, gently pressing it against your thighs and stomach to clean you up.

chan helped you change into something comfortable, and han changed the bedding for you since you ended up making a mess of them just moments prior. 

“you did so well,” chan murmured as you both lay back down, his tone full of pride and affection. he helped you shift into a more comfortable position, pulling the covers over your trembling body. “so proud of you, baby.”

han slid into the bed with you, his fingers brushing your hair back as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “you were amazing,” he said softly. “so beautiful.”

the two of them worked together seamlessly, their movements tender as they made sure you were warm and comfortable. chan lifted you gently into his arms, cradling you against his chest as han brought you a glass of water and held it to your lips.

“drink, baby,” han coaxed, his voice sweet and soothing. “you need to stay hydrated.”

you sipped the water gratefully, your body still trembling slightly as the aftereffects of everything began to fade. chan stroked your back in slow, calming motions, his lips brushing against your forehead as he whispered words of reassurance.

“you’re safe,” he murmured. “we’ve got you. always.”

the three of you settled into the bed together, chan holding you close while han cuddled up on your other side, his fingers intertwined with yours. the warmth of their bodies and the gentle rhythm of their breathing lulled you into a peaceful state, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you drifted off, feeling cherished and loved.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin

©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[fairyofshampgyu]

☆ Drive you mad !

genre: racer au, smut, e2l, rivals , crack

Pairings: sub ! race car driver ! beomgyu x dom ! gn race car driver reader (afab when comes to smut)

Warnings: kinda public sex, bratty beomgyu, sub beomgyu, grinding/palming, edging, creampie, riding, hand job, degrading, sex in a car, clubbing, alcohol, hair pulling, tit sucking, use of names ‘good boy’, ‘whore’

Word count: 4.7k

The engine roars in your ears as you bolt across the finish line, your car skidding and screeching to a halt. The cheers and claps of the crowd rise to an almost deafening crescendo, and you grip the steering wheel tight with furrowed brows, being able to feel how sweaty your forehead had become, adrenaline still surging through your veins as you pant heavily. A quick glance at the leaderboard tells you the result:

Second. Fucking. Place.

You grit your teeth, rather aggressively slamming the door shut, and getting out of the car. Yanking off your helmet, you storm over to where Kang Taehyun, your ever-calm, teammate, was leaning casually against the pit wall, sipping on his water bottle from the last round he had just raced himself. You on the other hand, are seconds away from combusting.

“Fuck him.” You seethe and grumble, arms crossed as both of your gazes switch to focus on Choi Beomgyu in the centre, soaking up the spotlight a few metres away, gesturing animatedly for the cameras with sparkling eyes, a stupid smirk and very satisifed look on his face as he tucked his helmet under one arm. He’s surrounded and swarmed by reporters with god knows how many microphones shoved in his face who hang onto his every single word like he was some goddamn deity.

He basks in it, always loved the attention. You wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to win every race solely for the purpose of being met with cameras and praises at the end. It’s like he got off on that shit. Attention seeker.

“What a fucking nepo baby.” You scoff and taehyun laughs, always amused for your hate towards Choi Beomgyu. But it was true, he was only here because his father was a famous legendary racer back in the day, his racing career practically gift wrapped by him at a young age. Choi Beomgyu had everything handed to him on a silver platter whilst you had to claw your way through to get where you are now. But, it seems to be that you’re the only one who has a problem with him. Everyone else adores him, the 'golden boy'.

“Oh—hehe. Stop it. Thank you! Yeah, honestly it’s all about hard work.” You hear him gush and chuckle in faux shyness and humbleness, waving his hand dismissively, eyes shaped into little crescent moons and running a hand through his long soft brown hair. “But I don’t think I’m that good personally heh.”

You can’t help how hard your eyes roll at that, muttering more insults under your breath only taehyun can hear who's certainly more than entertained. “Hardwork, my ass. His daddy got him connections and sponsorships, that’s why. He thinks he can just waltz in with that stupid smile and—oh my god, he’s winking at me. I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Sure enough, Beomgyu catches your eye roll and winks your way before saying something to the reporters that makes them hysterically laugh. The audacity. You have half the mind of walking over there and strangling him right in front of the cameras. That surely wouldn’t end your career right? Or worse yet, put you in prison.

As the crowd around him finally disperses and fizzles out, Beomgyu confidently saunters over to you and taehyun, helmet still tucked under his arm and still grinning annoyingly.

“Oh no.” Taehyun chuckles, throwing a knowing look your way and nodding to the direction of beomgyu, “Incoming.”

“Fuck my life.” You mutter, taking a big breath in, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favourite fan.” Beomgyu’s grin widens as he reaches you, snickering. He ignores your scoff in return, turning to taehyun instead with a smile and clapping his back. “Hey, Tae. Drinks after this? A bunch of us are going.”

“Yeah, I’m in. Congrats on first place today by the way.” Taehyun replies giving him a bro hug. To this day, you still can’t understand how taehyun can stand him. But Beomgyu has a lot of friends, and like you said, you really are the only one who dislikes him.

“How can you even hang out with him?” You make the most disgusted face you can muster towards Beomgyu to show the pure utter hatred you feel to him.

Beomgyu practically puffs out his chest, already expecting to be backed up and stood up against by taehyun.

Taehyun shrugs, “He grows on you. I guess.”

“Yeah, like a nasty mould.”

Beomgyu deflates, taking great offence, mouth hanging open and frowning, pouting at the both of you now laughing and high-fiving each other.

Beomgyu’s intense gaze then returns back to you. Taehyun, addressing the situation, and knowing how both your bantering can escalate, sees it’s best to leave, walking away to leave you alone with the cockroach. “Right, so as entertaining as this has been, I’m going to go now…preferably anywhere else...”

“What about you, y/n? No congratulations?” Beomgyu mocks and sighs boastfully once Taehyun has left. His voice dripping with that sickeningly playful lilt that always makes your blood boil. “No heartfelt speech on how I inspire you to be better? But hey, second place isn’t so bad.”

You narrow your eyes, standing up straight. “You won by, like,” you scoff, “a millisecond at best. Don’t get all cocky. It was just pure luck.”

He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you. “Oh, come on, I didn’t think you were such a sore loser. It’s called strategy.”

“Strategy?” you repeat incredulously, “The only strategy you have is relying on your last name to get you ahead.”

“God, you’re still on that? I feel like you’re just using that as an excuse to use still. Just admit I’m as good as you. Better, even. I’ve won one more race than you now~”

The two of you kept a tally of how many races you both have won, you’ve had the same exact score as him for ages now, obviously, not anymore. But you’ll win next time, just he waits.

He takes a step closer to you, waiting and expecting you to make a snarky comeback at him like you always do as you angrily stare him down and he does the same.

For a second, just one second, your eyes flicker down to his lips and suddenly, you’re brought back to an incident that occurred a few months ago. A memory you’ve tried—and failed—to forget.

There is one thing you’ve never told anyone about. Not your teammates, not taehyun, and that is when you, of all people, made out with Choi Beomgyu one awfully unlucky night.

⸝⸝

THE SAID AWFULLY UNLUCKY NIGHT YOU AND CHOI BEOMGYU MADE OUT:

The nightclub was packed with racers, sponsors, and fans celebrating the after party of a big end of season race, air heavy with the scent of alcohol and sweat. You nursed your drink, leaning against the bar.

Of course, Beomgyu was at the centre of the dance floor, surrounded by a group of admirers, his laughter ringing out over the music. He was never hard to spot, the centre of attention always.

"Ugh," you muttered under your breath, taking another sip of your drink.

“And you’re still staring?” Taehyun had teased, sitting beside you.

"I’m not staring.” You snapped, rolling your eyes. "I’m wondering how he manages to be so insufferable and stupid all the time."

“Sure,” Taehyun stifles a laugh, raising his glass to you. “Just don’t kill each other before the next race.”

You down the last of your drink, slamming it on the bar counter and ordering another, “Can’t promise that.”

The rest of the night is a blur to you. Too many drinks, too many spinning lights, and far too much proximity to Beomgyu.

You’re not one to get shitfaced drunk. You prefer the comfortable state of slight tipsiness and anything other than that is not fun for you, because why would someone want to be so drunk off their ass to the point of throwing up and not being aware of their surroundings? Usually, you’d chastise people like that, wondering how they can’t even manage how much they drink. But on that night, you’d had one too many to count, you were drunk, too drunk. Not the comfortable tipsiness that you’re used to.

You know that at one point, either you or Beomgyu had come up to the other and the normal bickering had ensued. You know he was just as drunk as you so whatever you both were arguing about probably made no sense at all.

What you do remember though was looking at him, really looking at him, in the shifting, almost epileptic lights of the club.

How big and brown his eyes were, how long and thick his eyelashes were and how they fluttered like a doll every time he blinked. How plump and pouty his lips were, especially now that he was drunk, he just kept on pouting his lips and his cheeks were flushed all rosy from all the alcohol he’d had. His long wolfcut was messy by now, bangs falling into his eyes.

He looked different that night, too. Not the usual racing suit and helmet, but a stylish black suit with his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a silver necklace glinting against his skin.

All in all, beomgyu was a pretty boy. You get why he had a lot of fans.

He was still going on about something to you, slurring his words, probably insulting you, and the only logical solution to shut him up in your inebriated state at that moment, was to kiss his pouty lips. Luckily, you both were at the very corner of the nightclub shrouded in darkness, everyone else too busy dancing and whatnot to see you both.

You remember him gasping when you grabbed the collar of his black shirt, yanking him down and pressing your lips aggressively against his, but he kissed you back almost instantly, without a second thought.

You weren’t very gentle with him, pushing him forcefully against the wall even further and tugging at his necklace. The way you were making out with him was just pouring out all your anger you’ve felt towards him for years. But, he just let you. He let you do anything to him and you were surprised, so different to the cocky and confident beomgyu you knew. And that sheer control he let you have over him for once felt so good, you didn’t want to stop.

That, and the fact Choi Beomgyu was also just really good at kissing, he made it so difficult to pull away at all, lips so soft and plump and addictive, making you want more and more and more.

But, you never spoke an utterance of it afterwards, he never brought it up, neither did you. And honestly, it felt so surreal, making out with the Choi Beomgyu, the one who you no doubtedly hate his guts and him kissing you back so pliantly? You’d believe it more if it was all just a hallucination. You were so drunk you wouldn’t be surprised if you made it all up, dreamt it even. Maybe it was someone else you made out with and you were so drunk you can’t remember. It’d make more sense than Choi Beomgyu.

Although, you do find yourself thinking about the makeout session often times than not, his lips on yours just felt so good. Too good. It was like, the best makeout you’ve had in your life and you curse it for being him. Why he had to be the one whose lips you still thought about? you don’t know. You’re certain he had forgotten and you wish you could have just like he seemed to.

But anyway, fuck that and fuck him.

⸝⸝

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Beomgyu is still sneering at you, awaiting your comeback but you can’t think well at the moment.

Your face heats, and you shove past him. “Go to hell, Choi.”

And his laughter follows behind you as you walk away. Oh, how he infuriates you.

You have one goal: beat Choi Beomgyu. Today is the day you finally get to race against him again. He’d held that last victory over your head, taunting you endlessly, with that invigorating, stupid smirk of his and you’d had more than enough. Today was your chance to shut him up and kick his ass. You’ll put him in his place and win. You’d been waiting for this.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another thrilling showdown! All eyes are on the two front runners y/n and Choi Beomgyu. These rivals have been neck and neck all season. Beomgyu won the last race but will he win again? Will today decide who’s truly on top?” The commentator’s voices boom over the loudspeakers.

The flagman waves the green flag, you slam on the gas pedal and you’re off, surging forward.

It wasn’t an easy race, beomgyu seemed motivated to win too. He was always either just ahead or just behind, not far enough for it be satisfactory, but nail bitingly tense, as anything could happen any moment. And right now, ahead, just barely, was him, blocking every attempt you made to overtake him.

“Y/n’s looking for an opening,” the commentators shout. “But Beomgyu’s defensive driving is flawless so far. Look at that precision!”

Loud noises of the engines are all you can hear, filling your ears as you manoeuvre around sharp turns, tires screeching against the asphalt. The laps all blur together but you’re nearing the end now.

You managed to get alongside him on the straight, your cars almost touching, crowd going wild as you both enter the next corner side by side, dangerously close.

“Neither driving is moving an inch!”

Suddenly, beomgyu’s car swerves towards yours, bumping and hitting at yours with such force, a dirty, blatant attempt at running you off the track and then he overtakes you. You gasp, fighting to stabilise your car, narrowly avoiding a spin. That was a new low, even for Choi Beomgyu. He’d never cheated like that before and you’re absolutely enraged.

The final lap is chaos, the audience on their feet now. You’re so incredibly angry, but you can’t let that get to you and hinder your focus, you clench your teeth, gripping your steering wheel so tight your knuckles are white, you’re even more determined to win than before.

The last stretch looms ahead and he’s just razor thin ahead of you, in the last second, you see your opening. Beomgyu had oversteered slightly on the turn, just enough for you to slip past him, you speed ahead.

“AND Y/N TAKES THE WIN IN A SPECTACULAR FINISH! THEY’VE DONE IT! WHAT A RACE!”

You crossed the line first. By a hair.

Everyone erupts, but your satisfaction is short-lived. Beomgyu’s cheating had completely soured your victory. The fucking nerve of him.

You barely register the reporters swarming you, bombarding your face with microphones. “Y/n! how does it feel to take first place?!”

“An incredible performance today, what was going through your mind?!”

The post race interview is a haze of forced smiles and generic answers. You’re barely listening as the reporters barrage you with questions. You’re still so pissed off at Beomgyu.

When it’s finally over, you make your way to the garage and that’s where you spot him leaning casually against his car, arms crossed in a nonchalant way. You clench your fists, blood boiling as you storm over to him. He’d crossed the line, well, not literally this time, but definitely fucking figuratively.

"You fucking cheated!" You shout, jabbing a finger at his chest.

He blinks innocently, tilting his head in a puppy like way. "Me? Cheat? That’s a very serious accusation to make. I’d never." There’s a slight smugness to him, almost mocking, he’s not even pissed he didn’t win like you’d wanted him to be, just calm and collected and being a bitch. It makes you even more livid with him.

“You intentionally tried to cause a collision with me. You should have been penalised. I don’t know how you weren’t!”

“Yeah, and you still won. So why are you even mad?” He crosses his arms and shrugs, ridiculing you. “If you can’t handle that maybe you should switch to something lighter like go karting instead.”

"Can’t handle?!" You splutter, looking at him in pure disbelief, your voice rising. "You arrogant, nepotistic, spoilt brat!-” Each insult punctuated with a sharp poke to his chest and, yet he still finds it all funny, bursting out into laughter at you.

Something inside you just snaps. It infuriates you how you’re the one who won and yet, you feel small. Why is he the one sneering at you? That should be you! You want to have the upper hand over him, some semblance of control— just like that night again when he was putty in your hands.

And so, before you can even register what you yourself are about to do, you grab him by his jacket, smashing your lips against his. He melts almost instantly, kissing you back so fervently and eagerly, as if he’d been waiting this whole time for this to happen. And you can’t lie, it felt almost euphoric to have his soft lips back on yours again. Almost like an addict getting their fix after a long withdrawal.

The kissing becomes heated fast, sounds of your mouths smacking filling the echoing garage as he lets you take over his mouth completely, letting you bite and pull at his bottom lip, emitting soft little gasps at this.

Even for the second time, it was disorienting seeing Beomgyu like this, nothing like the beomgyu you knew on the track or in the spotlight, and now with no alcohol in your system, neither of you could even blame whatever was going on right now on that. It’s all too intoxicating. It takes everything in you to pull back for air.

You push him against his car with more force than necessary, and Beomgyu stumbles slightly before sitting down on the top of the hood. His eyes are blown wide, flustered as you stand between his splayed legs, cupping his cheek and kissing him again, him responding immediately. This is how you like him. Your kisses trail down his jaw and the column of his neck, when you suck on his adam’s apple, he lets out a sharp intake and gasp, tilting his head back to give you more access, he already seems worked up from just a few kisses. Was his neck really that sensitive?

When your hand slides down to palm him through his trousers, his breath hitches and his jaw goes slack. “Oh…b-but we’re in public…” his cheeks flush a deep red and he protests weakly, plump lips all swollen and glossy and wet from the intense making out.

You raise a brow. “So you want me to stop?” You keep grinding your palm against his very hard length now, sucking on his neck and he shudders and whines cutely, very clearly enjoying it.

“W-wait no….” So you continue, he’s panting as you palm him, rutting into your hand himself. You pull back just enough to look at him, so dumb and lost in pleasure, lips parted with soft breathy moans and gasps as he chases the small friction you give him, his brows knitting together.

You roll your eyes at the sight of him, “Trying to run me off the track? You’re pathetic, beomgyu.”

“Pathetic?” He scoffs, still having the nerve to act like a brat when it’s all crumbling. “h-hah, if anyone’s pathetic it’s you—s-shit y/n—please. I need more, please.” Completely contradicting himself, because if there was only one word to describe him exactly right now, it would be pathetic.

“Admit it. Say you’re nothing but a dirty cheater first.”

“You wish.”

“Okay. I’ll leave you like this. All hard and horny.”

He hesitates, scowling, debating whether or not to challenge you, but when you stop all contact of palming and kissing his neck, starting to step away, he caves in.

“Wait!” He blurts, grasping at your wrist, eyes wide and pleading. “I’m…fine. Fine! I’m nothing but a dirty a cheater...” His face burns, embarrassed, humiliated, his pride hurt. The admission sends a thrill through you, he’s always been so full of himself, but now he’s just a needy pathetic mess for you. You’re having so much fun.

You grin. “Aw. What a good boy.” You coo sarcastically. The words have an instant effect on him though, whole body tensing and cheeks blooming into an even more impossibly vivid red and he whines, hands clutching at your hips to bring you back as he still sits pliantly on the hood of his car.

You unzip his pants, flushed pretty cock already leaking, slapping at his tummy and you brush your thumb over his sensitive tip, spreading the bead of pre-cum that gathered there slowly, watching his reaction and he looks down at the action himself, drawing out a helpless shudder and whimper from him. He groans, eyes half lidded when you wrap your hand around his cock, moving up and down with a deliberate slowness that makes his breath hitch every few seconds and whine.

“God, you’re so easy, beomgyu. Are you this much of a whore all the time?” You murmur and tease, dragging your teeth over his cute earlobe, ears all red, feeling him shiver.

“Shut”, he whimpers cutely, “up. I-i could…ah…fuck you stupid right now.” He retaliates or attempts to, but his hands grip the edge of the hood like he’s barely holding himself upright.

You laugh. “Oh, really? Because you look pretty wrecked already.” He was so fucked out right now, you wonder if he’d even be able to take it when you actually fuck him.

He’s still trying to keep up the pretense of resistance. “I’m not wrecked. You’re—” You pump his cock at a ruthless pace, jerking him off fast, occasionally toying with the slit on the head of cock and his body goes limp under you touch, moaning out prettily and loudly, eyes squeezing shut and panting, chest heaving. He clings to you now, head buried in your neck, practically drooling, body jerking with every stroke. He still attempts to bite back at you but they come out as dumb babbles and mumbles of nonsense, mewling and gasping, completely at your mercy.

Beomgyu whines and moans deliriously. “F-fuck! Oh—need to cum. C-can’t.” He removes his head from your neck to look up at you with glossy doe eyes, so wrecked and hanging on by a thread. You move your hand up and down his dick unrelentingly and before he’s just about to cum, you pull your hand off him.

The pained, frustrated cry that escapes him is deliciously pathetic. His hips jerk into the air desperately to chase the sensation, but it’s long gone now. He looks at you in shock, eyes wide in utter betrayal and devastation, and now wet with tears of frustration. But then he frowns and scowls, annoyed he didn’t get to cum. “What the fuck was that for?” He pouts.

“I could think of a lot honestly. But, don’t you want to cum inside me?”

His jaw hangs open. “Please. Yes.” Beomgyu breathes out, nodding fervently and looking at you with puppy eyes, pupils dilating and dazed at the thought alone.

Sliding off the hood, beomgyu takes your hand like an obedient puppy, and you open the car door. He sits in his driver’s seat, his flushed face tilted up to watch you as you climb onto his lap. You rid yourself of your own clothes, watching as his gaze drops immediately to your bare tits, breath catching and lips parting as he stares, seemingly captivated. He’s so stupid.

You grab his dick and use the head to rub your clit, making him let out little stuttered gasps, sliding him over your entrance and folds a few times before you sink slowly down completely. The feeling of your warm tight pussy making him go cross eyed as he groans, sucking in air and throwing his head back, grasping at your waist, furrowing his brows and mouth in an ‘o’ shape, you beginning to ride him.

It’s so hot and cramped and sweaty in the car now as you bounce on his dick continuously, being able to hear the obscene slapping and sticky noises so loudly. Beomgyu looks in a state of absolute, pure bliss, moaning like a bitch, mind all fogged up and mushy at the feeling of your pussy, his messy damp bangs falling into his eyes so all you can see is his very glistening round lips, still in that sustained ‘o’ shape, just so dumbed and fucked out.

He’s a gorgeous wreck, thick doll-like lashes fluttering. If only everyone else could see Choi Beomgyu like this right now. It feels so empowering and satisfying after all these years of him being so infuriating. You love how, despite his attempts at being bratty, he’s so docile and such a simple whore.

You tangle your hands in his hair and tug and pull every so often, which he clearly very likes if the high and strained moans are anything to show for this. His hands squeeze at your tits when it feels too good for him. His lips latch onto one of your nipples, tongue flicking over it and sucking and kissing as he looks up at you with his big brown eyes. When you deliberately clamp your pussy tightly around him, he moans out your name in response, muffled from him still sucking your tits needily, body slightly jerking.

“You remember, don’t you?—at the club?” You ask, although it was probably obvious by now.

Beomgyu pauses for a moment, popping his wet droolly mouth off your boobs, eyes darting away for a moment before returning to look at you, nodding vigorously, “of course I remember…l-liked it.” You cup his cheek again, kissing beomgyu hard, hands still tangled in his hair, tugging, fucking him mercilessly as he moans softly against your lips. “Oh god, m’ sso close. Can I cum?”

You nod, kissing him some more, “Cum for me, beomie.”

“Holyy s-shitt—” Beomgyu’s eyes roll to the back of his head, squeezing one of your tits as if for support, his back arches, his tongue lolling out dumbly, whole body trembling and shaking. You bring one of your hands to your clit, rubbing and riding yourself on him harder. With a choked off scream, he spills so much of his cum inside you, and the gorgeous sight brings you over the edge too, cumming as well.

He doesn’t pull out though, burying his face in your neck, gasping for air, groaning and clinging to you tightly, he’s still shuddering and you can feel little spurts of his cum still dribbling in you, pussy completely milking him.

The two of you sat in the car still afterwards in a slightly awkward silence. Both of you panting, trying to come down from your highs, left to fully take in what had just happened and also how thoughtless it was. Fucking Choi beomgyu in the garage? You’re incredibly lucky no one walked in. It wasn’t even like both of you were trying to be quiet either, none of that running through your mind at that moment. What if someone had heard?

Beomgyu, for once, was quiet, his usual smirk replaced with a dazed expression, so far gone. He leans slowly towards you though, looking as if he was about to kiss you again.

“This…this doesn’t mean anything by the way.” You mutter, beginning to button up your shirt.

Beomgyu scoffs, running a hands through his hair. “Doesn’t feel like nothing.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t. At all.” You roll your eyes, trying not to freak out, you open the car door, wanting more than anything to just get out. You walk away, leaving him there, disheveled and barely clothed, still slumped in the driver’s seat. And you don’t see it, but there’s a look of almost, somewhat hurt on his face.

A/n: happy new year !!<3 please give this lots of love it was such a bitch to write idk why but I really struggled with this 😭 also I’m so sorry to all the racing fans if makes no sense, I just made up my own kind of racing competition thing. Also the cars do not look anything like f1 cars 😭 more kind of like the nascar ones so they can actually fuck in it 😭 idk bro. I know no nothing about cars or racing. Also I’m sorry if the smut seems rushed and messy, I haven’t edited it and I was lowkey rushing to get this out

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and disappointing when fics have such little reblogs ☹️👎🤨. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write more :)

[graciedollie]

Rough Days

Pairs: Sevika x !Fem Reader

Summary: It was late at night—preferably 11 pm or so—your wife still haven’t made her way back home, which was nothing new. She came home with obvious irritation and frustration. Being the loving wife you were, you opted to help your wife relief some pent up frustration <3

Warning(s): Cunnilingus (r! receiving), shimmerstrap 😛, nipple play, overstimulation, (light) face slapping, degradation (?), praise, hint of dacryphillia :3

A/N: idk if you guys will like this but HERE YA GO

The sun was long gone, replaced with the bright moon dazzling in the dark sky with the stars. It was roughly 11p.m and you were up in your bed, snug as a bug while your body was adored with a nice nightgown as you were reading a book to keep yourself from falling asleep.

But you had a hectic day and ultimately fell asleep, snuggling onto her side of the bed while you buried your head in her pillow—inhaling the intoxicating scent of her smell.

It seem that time flew by as you were awoken by the front door creaking open before slamming shut, followed by some footsteps—heavy footsteps. You stirred in your sleep with a grumble, slowly getting up from the bed to make your way to the living room—finding Sevika on the couch, leaning back with a scowl etched on her face.

Rough day. Must’ve been one of those days. You couldn’t help but sigh at the idea of her basically running her ragged for the infamous kingpin errands. You shuffled over to her as you settled on her lap, caressing her cheek gently while her fleshed and mech hand settled on your hips.

“Hey baby..”

“Hey beautiful, Sorry for wakin’ you…tried to wait for me again?” she grumbled as her silver eyes gazed into yours before trailing down your body, taking in your curves.

You nodded in confirmation, “yeah, i tried…it was just a tiring hectic day for me today. As usual..” your voice was gentle and slight husky due to the fact you just woke up not too long ago.

“Mm, it’s fine.” Her low, sultry voice was always music to your ears—though you can practically hear the seething in her voice, knowing she was upset about something.

“Sev..”

“Mhm?”

“What’s the matter, baby? Wanna talk about today?” You suggested with a gentle touch to your voice, tracing your thumb across her blue-stricken scars that strike her cheek.

Her body gradually melting into your warm, gentle touch—savoring the tingle you left before the mention of todays work made her tense. A huff slipped from her nose as she looked at you with vulnerability and aggravation before shaking her head.

“Long. Exhausting. The usual..”

You listened to her intently as you read deep—DEEPLY—into her expressions. Her brows furrowed. Lips taut in a frown. Nose flared. Oh, she was definitely frustrated.

“Is there anything I can do to help, baby?”

She glanced up at your eyes with a glint of something behind them, twisting her lips into a scowl as she grumbled, “just you bein’ here helps me, honey….”

Her eyes wandered down your body—taking in how your boobs were noticeable in the soft fabric of the gown and how your ass felt perfect in her grasp.

“I guess you could help me blow some steam, sweetheart.”

And this. This is how you found yourself now.

Your legs were thrown over her broad shoulders. Her head buried between your thighs as she ate you out like a starved woman. Her hands running up down the delicate skin of your jerky thighs.

Her silver eyes peered between your thighs as she worked her tongue expertly, knowing your body better than your own self. Your eyes held her gaze, wanting to look away, but unable to do so as it feel so intense.

“Taste so fuckin’ good…missed you…missed this pussy..”

Her blunt words spurred you on even more, eliciting soft whimpers and gasps from your mouth as you grinded your hips as your clit bumped her nose with each movement.

“Sev—fuckkk…missed you s-so much..” Was all you could whine out as your body buzzed with the flowing pleasure, feeling your thighs tremble. A low moan bubble in her throat at your breathless whines, spurring her on more as she sucked, slurped, and licked at you like you were the last thing to devour.

She slowly slipped in two thick fingers, grunting at how your pussy practically gobbled her fingers up so greedily. A chuckle ruptured from her mouth before she pulled away from your cunt, gazing adoringly at the messy sight as she pumped her fingers with a quicken pace.

“Look at you—pussy practically suckin’ me in, yeah? Missed me this much, baby? Oh, I know, baby…”

Her low, sultry voice filled your clouded moan as your eyes fluttered, moaning and gasping at the quicken pace—feeling your thighs threatening to shut. She tsked before placing her mech hand on your thigh to keep you spread just for her.

“Baby, you know better…take it for me. I know you can, sweet girl.” Her voice was husky and low as her eyes peered down at you, feeling a smirk tug at her dark lips as she watched you writhe underneath her.

Your words came out in babbles and incoherent pleads—begging for god knows what—as your thighs trembled and shook as her fingers hit dead on that spot that made you see stars.

She leaned her head back down to capture your clit back in her lips as her fingers never faltered the increased speed, causing the obscene squelching noises to fill the room. “Such a pretty girl..:so fuckin pretty..”

Her words was the last straw for you to come completely undone, letting a high moan escape your mouth as your hands tugged at her dark locks—rolling your hips to her mouth before slowly settling down as you panted heavily.

She pulled away from your soaked with a small ‘pop’, placing a gentle kiss to your clit before kissing her way back up your body.

You thought it was all over, but fortunately for you, it was far, FAR from over.

Obscene noises of broken moans, grunts, and squelching noises filled the room continuously. You were on your back, legs pushed to your chest, moaning shamelessly loud as she fucked you relentlessly with the glowing 7 inch shimmerstrap.

You couldn’t help but grasp weakly at the sheets as her thrust made it difficult to even think straight, nearly fucking you dumb. She could only smirk at her sight, knowing how good she was making her sweet girl feel.

“Feel good, yeah? Oh, I know, baby, I know…takin’ it so well for me—fuck—lettin me use you like this…” Her words were punctured with each of her thrusts as her eyes peered down at your disheveled state, noticing the tears prickling at your eyes.

Soft sobs and choked moans were heard from you as you head fell back against the pillows, eyes fluttering as stray tears trickled down your cheek. It was such a pretty sight to see, all for her.

“Sev—b-baby…I-I can’t…too much, ‘ts too much…please..” Was all you managed to whimper out before being interrupted with a damn-near pornographic moan escaping your mouth as her strap kissed your cervix.

“Don’t fuckin’ give me that. Fuckin’ take it, baby…I know you can, sweet girl.” Her words spurred you on even more as you were damn near on the verge of crying fully.

Her mech placed on your hip to help her thrust while her flesh hand grasped your jaw, causing your lips to pucker and cheeks to flush up. Your eyes fluttered with tears, barely able to look at her as her thrusts increased significantly.

“Look at that pretty sight—fuck—such a pretty pussy…feels too good? Too much? Aw, baby, I know… but you’re gonna take it f’me. You can take it—I know you can, baby..”

She delivered a gentle slap to your cheek, making you whimper before she deliver a bit firm slap—you could practically feel your pussy gush. “Se-Sev…please—wanna come..”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at your desperate pleads, knowing her sweet baby just wanted to cum so bad :(. she could practically feel your pussy suck her dick in with each stroke, groaning at the sight (swearing she can feel you).

“Shit—sucking’ me, baby…greedy fuckin pussy. Fuckin love it..” Was all she grumbled before she leaned her head down before capturing one of your nipples in her mouth—slurping and sucking hungrily at the bud while her hand tweaked with the other nipple.

Guttural moans and choked whimpers were heard from you at the added stimulation, grasping her hair as you felt your thighs shudder and tremble—feeling yourself melt into her more.

She pulled her head up, not before placing a kiss to your hardened nun, and pressed her hand down on your stomach—feeling how deep she was. (idea from @prettydeeryess🎀)

“Shit, look at that—fuckin you so deep, baby. Fuckkk, feel so good around me—fuckin love you, sweetheart..”

Your mouth hung open with a silent scream as your eyes fluttered, feeling your body shudder and tremble as the intense organs crashed over your weary body—squirting over her toy and lower abdomen.

She couldn’t help but groan at the messy sight, hearing the lewd squelching of your drenched pussy as she slowed her pace to deep, gentle strokes.

“Shit, baby …you did so good—did I go too rough?”

“No, just perfect..”

She couldn’t help but scoff playfully at the stupid dopey smile on your lips, knowing she completely fucked you to nothing. Pulling out slowly and throwing the strap somewhere, she pulled you close to her; nuzzling your neck as she rubbed your back gently as your hands trailed over her arms.

You were always her best stress reliever ᯓᡣ𐭩

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

hope you enjoyed it dollies <3

[lovebugism]

you’re writing for carmy now omg i’m frothing at the mouth 😭 i love the trope where reader is quiet in bed and needs to be coaxed a bit but… i feel like it would be kind of hot if reader was the one coaxing carmy? 👀 no worries if you’re not feeling this one!

ty for requesting! — you teach the bear how to use his voice in the bedroom (new relationship, inexperienced!carmy, experienced!reader-ish, smut 18+)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Carmy never notices when he’s quiet. His head is always so loud in comparison — it’s easy to forget he isn’t saying anything out loud when his mind’s constantly racing. He doesn’t mean anything by it, though. He’s just chronically observant. And painfully silent with it.

He lays on his back, pressed between unmade sheets and your warm body. The covers bunch at your bare hips as you roll in languid thrusts over his lap. A satiny summer breeze smooths over your burning skin from a cracked-open window. Every time the curtains billow, more of the moonlight peeks in. It drips in silver shades over your naked skin and your pretty face, now twisted in a look of undeniable pleasure — brows scrunched, eyes closed, mouth wide open.

Carmy’s tattooed hands rest impatiently on your hips. His fingers dig into the plush of them as he rocks you back and forth over his cock. You make pretty noises for him every time your clit brushes his coarse thatch of pubic hair, so he angles his hips just right to make sure you keep hitting that spot. 

“Carmy,” you moan in a whimsical sigh that makes his chest swell. “Just like that. ’S so good like that. Please don’t stop—”

His face, made of dark shadows and sharpened edges, is pinched in a look of acute concentration. A distant feeling of deja veux swims in his stomach. It makes him wonder if he’s seen this in a painting before. One of those Renaissance types. The kinds that are harrowingly realistic and always heart-wrenchingly beautiful in a way. 

It makes him want to draw you. Just as you are now. Head tossed back, mouth gently agape, lashes fluttering over glowing cheeks. He wouldn’t be able to do any of it justice, but he tries to memorize the soft lines of your face, anyway. 

Your hips slow to a stop. Reality hits him hard.

“Woah, woah— Hey,” Carmy mumbles in protest, brows pinched in confusion when he comes down from the clouds. Through labored breaths that make his sweaty chest rise and fall, he wonders, “What happened? Why’d you stop?”

His icy blue eyes dart over your face, searching for any sign of harm. In true Carmen Berzatto fashion, he immediately thinks he’s done something wrong — that he got too far in his own head and hurt you in some way without realizing. The anxiety is fleeting, but he feels the pinch of it anyway — right where your palm rests flat on his chest, just over his pounding heart.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, similarly panicked. Your bare chest sparkles with a thin layer of sweat and catches the moonlight with every uneven inhale.

Carmy nods rapidly, chestnut curls brushing the pillow. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m— I’m great. Why?”

You exhale a small sigh of relief, growing sheepish under his unwavering gaze. You feel a bit silly for stopping now. “You just aren’t… You aren’t really, you know… saying anything,” you answer shyly.

“Am I supposed to be saying something?”

You giggle quietly to yourself until you realize he’s being genuine. Your smile ebbs as you stammer, “Well, no, it’s just— Some people usually moan, I guess— When they feel good.”

Carmy nods firmly in reassurance. “I feel good.”

“Okay…” you nod back, slower and more unsure. 

“I promise,” he tells you, tattooed hands squeezing your sides. He shifts nervously on the mattress, similarly victimized by your adoring stare. “I just… I just like watchin’ you, I guess…”

A shy smile quirks the edges of your mouth as you peer down at the boy beneath you. “You’re sweet, bear,” you coo in a honeyed murmur.

“You’re sweeter,” Carmy insists. You think you see the faintest hint of a grin on his lips, but it’s hard to tell in the low light. “Wanna taste?” he teases a second later.

Wordlessly, you bend down for another kiss, far too chaste for his liking. He almost says something about it until you roll your hips again. The words of protest disappear when he inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Does that feel good?” you ask him.

He nods silently, squeezing your sides in a feeble attempt to move you faster on top of him.

“Tell me.”

“Feels good,” Carmy obeys through gritted teeth.

The subtle assurance makes you moan — a pretty, breathy thing that spills accidentally from your opened mouth. All he can think about is getting you to make that sound again. 

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” he wonders aloud, very innocuously curious.

You nod, brows furrowed as you grind over his lap. The bed frame squeaks quietly when you roll your hips forward. When you roll them back again, he can hear the faint sounds of your wet pussy — the quiet schlick-ing of his cock fucking into you. The two noises play one after the other in rhythmic tandem. The sinful sounds of sex.

Carmy racks his head for something to say in the not-so-silent meanwhile. You watch him get lost in his mind and cup his cheeks between gentle palms. “Don’t think so hard about it, bear,” you say with a wavering smile. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.”

You duck down to kiss him again. The angle shifts. Carmy bends his knees and fucks up into you, mercilessly and without warning. Your mouth hangs open in another weak moan that fans across his chin. 

“That good?” he pants.

“Yes,” you whine. “Carmy— fuck— You’re so deep…”

Babbles spill from your mouth in thinkless slurs. They tumble from your swollen lips with an admirable effortlessness, which Carmy has never thought himself to possess. He tries, anyway, to talk to you with such sinful ease. 

“You’re huggin’ me so tight,” he mutters through a clenched jaw. The very first thought to come to mind as the velvet confines of your cunt pulsate around him, squelching quietly in time with his thrusts. “Can feel you throbbin’ around me, babe— Shit— It’s like a fuckin’ heartbeat.”

Your whine fills the quiet bedroom, adding to the symphony of bed squeaking and skin slapping. 

Carmy shifts his hips upward. The new angle allows his cock to reach a spongy depth inside you and pins your swollen clit against his happy trail, which now glimmers with a layer of your honey.

“Right there?” he pants.

You nod wordlessly until the words catch up to you. The tip of your nose brushes the bridge of his. “Yes,” you whimper. 

His brutal thrusts pick up pace a second later, never wavering in their wicked pursuit. “Let me hit that spot,” Carmy mumbles to himself like a man crazed. “Let me hit that spot, let me hit that spot.”

Pleasure swells within you, overwhelmingly so. It’s a warm and sparkling feeling in the pit of your stomach — a tightening coil, a fraying rope, a dam about to burst. The intensity of your inevitable orgasm frightens you.

“Carmy…” you whimper.

“I know,” he nods sympathetically, right before he plants his feet on the mattress. He strengthens his thrusts, which have slowly started to lose their rhythm. “It’s okay. C’mon. Cum for me— I can feel you fuckin’ drippin’ on me, baby— C’mon.”

Your jaw clenches to fight back the scream clawing at your throat. It comes out in a pitiful whimper instead when you tense over his lap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves that leave you shaking, thighs trembling on either side of his hips.

Carmy goes accidentally silent once more as he watches you, swelling with pride as you reach the height of your pleasure. His light eyes flit over your features in a feeble attempt to memorize them — the furrow between your brows, the wrinkles beside your shut eyes, the spit-slicked sheen to your kissed lips.

You’re painting brought to life. A heavenly thing he can’t believe he gets to touch with unworthy hands.

“That’s it…” Carmy murmurs lowly. The words bubble in his throat and fall from his mouth mindlessly. He doesn’t even have to think about them now. It just feels right to praise you like this. “That’s it. There you go. So pretty… Always so pretty for me.”

As your body racks with aftershocks, you seek refuge in his arms. Your weight rests entirely upon him as your tense limbs slowly relax, but Carmy doesn’t mind. He just wraps his tattooed arms around you and holds your trembling body closer.

“I got you,” he promises through labored breaths, chapped lips brushing your temple with every word. “I got you. ’S okay. You did so good for me, baby. Thank you.”

You don’t have the words to tell him that you should be the one thanking him.

[buckyalpine]

Warnings: 18+ dub con, smut, Dark Bucky, breeding kinks. I want some Dark twin Bucky. Jealous twin Bucky. Manipulative, sexy, mob boss twisted Bucky. His brother James is everything good, everything wholesome, everything perfect. James had everything in life, the nicest house, a respectable job, the sweetest wife. Oh, how sweet his wife was.

Bucky couldn’t care less for the perfect reputation his brother had nor did he care for the money, he had so much more. More power. More control. The only thing his brother had that he wanted for himself was you. His brother didn't value or care for you for what you were worth, always working, focused on business, leaving you in the large house all by yourself. Bucky would have never. Not if he had you.

Loving, gentle, soft as silk.

Pure, untainted, everything he wasn't.

He had to have you.

"Babydoll"

You smiled hearing your husband enter your shared bedroom as you got out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy towel around yourself before going to greet him. He sat at the edge of the bed with a knowing smirk, shamelessly eyeing you up and down like he always did, your cheeks heating up under his watchful stare. You loved how much he adored you. He strode over, humming at the scent of your body wash, his nose trailing up the column of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin, his hands wandering to the edge of your towel.

"Miss me, baby?" He pulled it off, letting it pool to the floor leaving you bare before him, picking you up and laying on on the mattress, you were so perfect, pliant, he could already smell your arousal, your nipples pebbled against the cold air begging for his warm mouth.

"moy kotenok" He purred, nipping at your earlobe, your brows knitting in confusion, he never spoke Russian to you, only his brother-

“James?” You squeak, your heart starting to beat rapidly, blood running cold. This wasn’t your husband. You tried to scramble away, cover yourself but he grabbed your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head. You then noticed the dark ink that peekd beneath his shirt, his telltale silver chain slipping out and dangling above your face. Your husband only wore his wedding ring, you tried so hard, unable to move his heavy body off you.

"Bucky-Bucky get off, what are you doing-

"Taking what should be mine, kotenok, showing you what being loved by a real man is like" He crawled off you, thighs spread wide kneeling in front of you. "He doesn't know what you deserve printsessa"

He shoved your legs apart, holding them from squirming, your twitching pearl amusing him. "S'been long, hasn't it, you say you don't want me but that swollen button says otherwise, what if I-"

He spits onto your clit making you cry out, a rough calloused thumb coming down to flick it to his hearts content. Your body jolted at the sensation, it was wrong, so wrong, God it had been so fucking long...

No.

"Bucky st-stop" You hiccupped as he moved faster, he could see your slick dampening the sheets, his idiot brother didn't know what he was missing.

"Why would I do that, hm? Look at how your body responds to me, you want this. Gonna get you so pregnant, bunny” Bucky smirked, giving his thick bulge a squeeze, making a show of shamelessly palming his erection. “Y’wouldnt even know who the daddy is”

He doesn't waste a second pulling his cock out, grinning at the way your cunt welcomes him home despite your futile protests. You scratch at him between moans of pleasure, your legs wrapping around his tapered waist. He pounds into you with purpose, he wants his child in your belly, he couldn't wait to see his brother dote on you not knowing any better.

He got harder thinking about your breasts leaking with milk as you got bigger, milk to feed his baby, milk to feed him. He'd find a way.

"Gonna put my child in you printsessa, give you my baby, show you where a man puts his cum, you'll take it won't you bunny, such a good housewife"

"No-No you-you can't oh God!" Your body shudders as pleasure and guilt washes over you, clinging onto him for dear life as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"That's right, cum for me, he can't make you cum like I can, don't think I haven't heard you with him, look at you, just a slutty little mess, you smell of sex kitten"

He intends on making the biggest mess in your pussy, needing it to drip onto the sheets you sleep in. You'd stay wrapped up in his essence while it leaked out of you, his sperm exactly where it needed to be, right in your belly-

"Get ready kitten, get ready to take it, fuck-squeezing me so good, tell me you want it, I know you do, m'gonna cum so hard for you princess, just for you, all this-fuck-do you feel it, s'all for you, SHIITTT" He roared, pumping you with the stutter of his hips, the headboard slamming against the wall as he emptied himself, shamelessly moaning into your neck.

The next 9 months would be interesting.

[ennabear]

ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ dreaming about sevika fucking you on shimmer… 18+

while sevika tends to have a pretty gruff exterior— that resting bitch face, giant metal arm, six feet of pure muscle, and deep, husky voice— as soon as she gets some shimmer in her system, it’s like a switch is flipped and she’s suddenly so much lighter.

sure, she only really uses it for an adrenaline boost, but times like these are her favorite— when she gets to play around with it. although it’s a little bit freaky, the way her arm twitches and rattles as it guzzles the shimmer down, it’s so beautiful. she’s so beautiful. the way it illuminates her pretty dark scars, sending a shock of neon purple down her body that perfectly compliments the brown and gold of her skin and arm.

she notices you staring, eyes practically turning into hearts as you watch. soon enough, she’s on top of the world, forgetting about all of her phantom pains and the bitches in the past who’ve wronged her. she grins lasciviously, “you ready?”

and she’s got you on your knees in an instant, ripping your underwear in two before you can protest. she yanks the fly of her pants down, her lengthy cock springing out hungrily. no matter how much you assure her you’re ready, how much you beg her to start fucking you, she still follows it with a “you sure? ‘cause we’re not stopping ‘til i’m done.”

then she slips inside you abruptly, sparing you only a few milliseconds to adjust before she’s pounding into you. you swear the whole building shakes with her thrusts, it’s one of the last thoughts you have before you get fucked completely stupid. her mech hand comes up to grip at your shoulder, steadying herself as she gets lost in the pleasure.

something animalistic awakens in her, a string of drool dripping onto your back as she smacks her hips into you. “you like it when i fuck you like this?” she taunts, knowing you’re already too far gone to respond. she chuckles at your silence, assuming the way you grab at her mech hand is a yes.

it’s so cute how she gets with some shimmer in her system. she’s growling behind you, saliva dripping down her face onto her neck, laughing and giggling at something only god knows. you understand how refreshing it must be for her to completely lose herself, let the pleasure take over for a while, forget about all responsibilities and only focus on you.

before she can even register it, you’re squirting around her. she snaps out of her daze as you groan at the overstimulation, bending down to sink her teeth into your neck. “sevika!! b-be nice.” you plead. she smirks wolfishly, licking up a bead of blood from your neck as she, too, tips over the edge.

she only pauses for a brief moment to catch her breath before flipping you over completely. her once silver eyes are now a soft lavender, and there’s a faint sheen of sweat casted over her skin that makes her look like she’s sparkling. her arm twists and zaps a little as it reloads, another vial of shimmer draining itself into her.

one of your favorite smiles creeps up onto her face, showing off her tooth gap. you almost melt. god, she’s so adorable. you giggle, fully aware that sevika’s using every ounce of self control to give you a moment to rest.

“ready for round two?” she chuckles, although you can hear the desperation in her voice. you yank your shirt off of your head, leaning forward to capture her lips in a heated kiss before she can grab at your chest. “ready when you are.”

[thinkinonsense]

VELVET ELVIS ❤︎

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fluff! domesticity! soft!logan pregnancy

author's note: this was inspired by the kacey musgraves song! just wanted to write some fluff :)

masterlist

divider credit: @/roseraris

within these cabin walls, time stood still. logan liked his life and the time machine he's built himself. you and him live in a 60's dream home.

during the weekdays, logan went to work at the lumberyard while you stayed at home and worked on your paintings. when the two of you moved in together years ago, logan got you to agree to quit your job and prioritize your talents since he could do triple the amount of work for a normal man, money would never be an issue.

on saturday's, the two of you would go into town and you would bring your art pieces to a shop downtown for them to sell. whatever money you made, you put back towards the supplies you needed because logan covered everything else.

"well, don't 'cha look like a dream" logan compliments as he watches you get ready in the mirror.

"thank you, sugar." you smile as he leans down to kiss your temple then down to your cheek.

"prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen." he mutters against your skin. "is this new?"

both your eyes fall to the satin powder blue slip dress that adorned your frame. he loved how it looked with your pretty white mary jane boots and the small bump blooming underneath the soft material of your dress.

"yeah, picked it up earlier this week." you reply, removing the curlers in your hair and teasing the hair pieces up high.

"love it." logan says, nibbling at your earlobe.

"logan..." you giggle, lightly shoving him away. "go get dressed so we can leave."

"yes, ma'am."

reluctantly, logan gets up and grabs the nice outfit you put together for him earlier. a fresh pair of denim jeans, a white shirt, and his brown leather jacket. as an anniversary present one year, you got logan a silver star-shaped belt buckle that matched the necklace he got for your birthday when you two first met. in the mirror, you watched him put it on.

"whatcha thinkin' about over there, sweetheart?" he smirks, looking up to find your eyes.

"dippin' you in honey."

"dirty. i like it."

"not like that, perv." you giggle. "just wanna be stuck to you forever."

"that's sweet," he says, walking over, bending down, and gently grabbing your chin to kiss you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

once the two of you make it inside the tiny shop, logan brings in your painting while you greet the older ladies who own the building. all of them fawn over logan and your round tummy; telling you how lucky you are. something you never let yourself forget.

"you'll never believe what we picked up at the gala last weekend." one of the grey-haired women tells you.

"what did you two find?" you asked, always curious to their treasures.

"the hell kinda painting is this?" logan asks, looking sideways at one of the paintings on the wall.

the sight makes you laugh. no matter how long you two have been together, logan still struggles to see some of the beauty that you do in certain art pieces.

"i think the handsome lumberjack found it." the other lady winked as they guide you over to where logan stood. hanging upon the wall sat a velvet elvis painting.

"oh my!" you gasp.

ever since you were a little girl, you adored the painting that some would call 'tacky'.

"you like that, sweets?" he questions but you ignore it, stepping closer, running a finger along the golden frame.

"my grandma used to have one in her living room, it was her most prized possession –well, next to my grandpa."

behind you, logan could see the couple smiling to each other. too busy amazed by the painting to notice anything else around you.

“what a lucky find!” you marvel, turning around to face them.

“which is why we want you to have it.” one of them says while the other takes it down from the wall.

in shock, you shake your head insisting that you couldn’t allow them to give it away. they insist on you two taking it home, telling you to hang it somewhere nice. logan wasn’t exactly thrilled to have the painting in the home but he knew you adored it so he would never say a word out loud.

on the way home that night, you raved about the piece. logan loved hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about. he could listen to you explain color theory for hours. his own personal, prettier version of bob ross. when he brought in the painting, you told him exactly where you wanted to hang it in the living room.

“right there, baby.” you instruct him. “be careful.”

the man couldn’t be hurt if he tried but he found your warning cute. once it was hung up, you both step back to admire it. the art work did at least match the aesthetic of the house, logan could admit.

“i mean, its no mona lisa but i don’t mind it.” logan says, pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

“you know, i don’t really care for the mona lisa.” you admit with a shrug.

“really?”

“mhm, don’t like that everyone fawns over it. i want character, creativity, and something unique."

"hm.." he hums, swaying you gently.

"this painting reminds me of you." your voice meek and muffled against his shirt.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at you.

you nod. "i want something no one else has and something no one else will ever understand the way that i do. you're my favorite work of art, lo."

"i'm only a work of art because you carved and molded me with your beautiful mind." he says, trying to allow a tear to fall down his face.

logan couldn't believe the life he'd been gifted after all the shit he's dealt with in his lifetime. he didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve you. your kindness, your warmth, your talent, your body that carries the only other human he will ever love as much as you. he would never be able to repay you for this little life and slice of peace that you've gifted him.

[meinii]

“hello kitty tattoos”

sypnosis: Sylus has a habit of falling asleep on his back, and you have a habit of getting bored. the solution you find is to decorate his broad back with your adorable hello kitty tattoos while he sleeps ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა

content: fluff, domestic, playful romance, use of nicknames (kitten)

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

Sylus was out cold

he had collapsed onto the bed earlier, face buried in the pillows, exhausted from whatever mission he had just returned from. now, his bare back rose and fell with each steady breath, his muscles relaxed for once instead of being tense and battle-ready

and you? you were bored ໒꒰ྀི´ ᵔ ` ꒱ྀིა

so, obviously, you did what any loving partner would do in this situation

carefully straddling his lower back, you peeled another tiny hello kitty temporary tattoo from its backing and pressed it onto his skin, smoothing it down with gentle fingers before dabbing it with a damp cloth. it transferred perfectly—hello kitty in a little astronaut suit, waving cheerfully

perfect

you bit your lip to suppress a giggle as you leaned back to admire your work. his entire back was slowly turning into a canvas of adorable chaos. tiny hello kitties in different outfits—some in chef hats, some in bows, one holding a tiny heart—were scattered across Sylus’ broad, toned back. It was almost poetic: the Onychinus leader covered in the most soft and innocent designs imaginable

you placed another tattoo just below his shoulder blade, when—

“kitten?” “…what are you doing?”

you froze

his voice was groggy, low and laced with sleep, but there was unmistakable suspicion in it

slowly, you turned your head to meet his gaze. he had barely cracked one eye open, looking over his shoulder at you, his silver hair messy against the pillow

“…nothing”

Sylus exhaled a slow sigh, closing his eyes again “you’re lying”

you grinned, pressing another tattoo down just for good measure “no, I’m just… expressing my creativity”

his brows twitched “…on me?”

“yes”

another pause. then, he shifted slightly beneath you, making you think for a second that he was going to protest—until he mumbled, “fine. just… don’t put anything on my face”

your heart swelled at how effortlessly he gave in

he wasn’t even annoyed—just giving up to your antics, like he was already used to them

you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder “you’re the best”

Sylus only hummed in response, already halfway back to sleep

you grinned, reaching for another tattoo. maybe a hello kitty with sunglasses this time

and you couldn’t wait to see his reaction♡

[mindless-existence1]

Summery: Shadow Purring. That's basically it. You give him head pet's (check out the actual head petting fic if you want more) and he starts purring.

Authors note: Live, laugh, love the person giving the requests ❤️ Hope you enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The evening was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came with the late hours when the world seemed to hold its breath. You lay sprawled out on your bed, Shadow at your side, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he stared at the wall. The soft glow of the moon filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle silver light.

It wasn’t often that Shadow allowed himself moments like these, where the weight of the world wasn’t pressing on his shoulders.

But tonight, he’d let you pull him into bed, his usual guarded demeanor softening in your presence.

Your hand absentmindedly reached out, fingers brushing through the fur along his quills. It wasn't long ago Shadow had first let you pet him. You felt him stiffen slightly but relaxed into the touch. After a second you feel him turn into the touch more, making him snuggle deeper into your side.

His fur was surprisingly smooth, warm beneath your fingertips, and the steady rhythm of your hand seemed to lull him into a state of calm.

After a few moments, a faint, unfamiliar sound reached your ears. It was subtle at first, a low, rumbling vibration that you almost mistook for distant thunder. But then you realized it was coming from Shadow.

“Are you… purring?” you asked, your voice tinged with surprise.Shadow’s eyes shot open, and he immediately tensed again, the sound cutting off abruptly. “No,” he said quickly, his tone defensive.

You couldn’t help but smile. “You so are,” you teased, resuming your gentle petting. “It’s adorable.”

“It’s not,” he grumbled, but his resolve faltered as your fingers found a particularly sensitive spot near the base of his quills. The low rumble returned, louder this time, and you felt the vibrations through your hand.

“See?” you said softly, your voice filled with affection. “I told you it’s cute.” Shadow didn’t respond, his cheeks faintly flushed as he averted his gaze. But he didn’t stop you, either.

If anything, he seemed to lean into your touch, his usually sharp edges softened in the quiet intimacy of the moment. You continued for a while, your fingers moving in slow, soothing motions.

After a queit moment you lay your head atop his, feeling the soft vibrations coming off him. Your hand drifts downwards towards the undersides of the large tufts of fur and quills on his head.

Shadwo let's out a content sigh at the feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp. The low rumble of purring makes you smile to yourself. Although you revel at the sound Shadow seems to try and hide his face in your side.

"You know your allowed to enjoy this." The hedgehog grumbles something but you only catch bit. "It's just a sound." His defense his weak and he knows.

You hardly catch what he mumbles under his breath. "It's not like it's voluntary." You let out a high pitched 'Aww' at his words. "Shadow you're adorable and I love you."

You don't have to see his face to know he's flustered, you save him the embarrassment and choose to kiss his forehead instead of call him out.

Adter a minute things queit down, your fingers softly run through the tufts of fur. At times Shadow leans himself into it, the low purrs growing louder depending on where you scratch.

As the night drifted on the sound of his purring filled the otherwise silent room, a steady, comforting rhythm that made your heart swell. When Shadow quiets down, it alerts you of him slipping into sleep.

You smile to yourself at the softness of this rare moment. Laying a kiss to the top of head you let yourself be lulled to sleep along with him.

[pixii33]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅: 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

The nursery was a whirlwind of noise as Aegon and Aemond, stood nose-to-nose, arguing fiercely. Their baby sister sat on a blanket nearby, her wide violet eyes watching them with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“She likes playing with me more!” Aegon insisted, his voice rising as he pointed toward their sister. “I’m the one who makes her laugh!”

“No, she likes me better!” Aemond shot back, crossing his arms defiantly. “I’m the one who reads to her!”

Their bickering continued, growing louder with each passing moment, neither of them noticing the soft patter of tiny footsteps approaching. Little Daeron toddled into the room, his big eyes full of innocence. He looked from Aegon to Aemond, then over to his sister, who was sitting quietly on her blanket, seemingly forgotten by her squabbling brothers.

Without making a sound, Daeron walked over to his sister, his steps wobbly but determined. He reached out with his small hands, and she, always delighted by her youngest brother, lifted her arms toward him. With surprising ease for his age, Daeron picked her up, wrapping his little arms around her as he balanced her on his hip.

The older boys were so engrossed in their argument that they didn’t notice as Daeron carefully carried their sister out of the nursery, her giggles muffled as she snuggled against him. He navigated the corridors with surprising confidence, eventually finding his way to the garden, where the late afternoon sun bathed the roses in a warm, golden light.

Daeron gently set his sister down between the tall rose bushes, their vibrant blooms towering over her. She giggled again, reaching out to touch the soft petals of a nearby flower. Daeron watched her for a moment, a wide smile on his face, before carefully plucking a small rose. He held it delicately in his tiny hands, just as he had seen the maids do, and then leaned in to tuck it into her hair.

“There,” he said in his sweet voice, his words still slightly lisped. “Pretty.”

His sister beamed at him, her little hands clapping in delight as she reached up to touch the flower in her hair. Daeron’s smile widened, and he began to hum a tune—one of the lullabies he had heard their mother sing. His voice was soft and uncertain, but the simple melody seemed to enchant his sister, who watched him with adoration in her eyes.

Meanwhile, back in the nursery, Aegon and Aemond’s argument had finally come to an abrupt halt when they realized their sister was nowhere to be found.

“Where is she?!” Aegon asked, his voice tinged with panic as he looked around the empty room.

Aemond’s face had gone pale, his one good eye wide with fear. “She’s gone!” he cried, the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. “We lost her!”

The two brothers tore through the Red Keep in a frantic search, their hearts pounding in their chests. Servants were questioned, corridors were scoured, and they even checked behind the curtains in every room. But there was no sign of their sister.

Finally, they reached the garden, bursting through the door with wild, desperate energy. Aegon was ready to yell out for help, his voice rising in a cry that was sure to bring the whole Keep running, when he suddenly stopped short.

There, nestled between the rose bushes, was their baby sister, sitting comfortably in Daeron’s lap. The tiny boy was still humming his lullaby, his chubby fingers gently combing through her silver hair as she gazed up at him with adoration. And then, to the utter shock of Aegon and Aemond, she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Daeron’s lips, her expression filled with innocent affection.

Daeron giggled, delighted by the kiss, and wrapped his little arms around her in a tight hug. She responded by snuggling into his neck, hiding her face shyly as if to escape the world in the safety of her youngest brother’s embrace.

Aegon and Aemond stood frozen in place, their jaws dropping in unison. The jealousy that coursed through them was almost palpable, their earlier argument now seeming insignificant in the face of this new development.

“How did he—” Aegon started, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Aemond, still stunned, could only shake his head. “She kissed him,” he murmured, as if saying it aloud would make it any less unbelievable.

Daeron, completely aware of the turmoil he had caused, simply looked up at his older brothers with a straight face. “We playing,” he explained in his cold voice, as if he didn't wanted them here.

Finally, Aegon stepped forward, reaching out to take his sister from Daeron’s lap. “Come here,” he said softly, his voice gentler now as he lifted her into his arms. She looked up at him with those big, trusting eyes, and his heart melted all over again.

Aemond joined them, standing close as he reached out to stroke her hair, his earlier panic forgotten. “We were so worried about you,” he murmured, his voice filled with relief.

But their sister, still cuddled against Aegon’s chest, just giggled and reached back toward Daeron, making it clear she wanted to keep playing. Daeron, proud of his little adventure, stood up and toddled over to them, his smile as bright as the sun.

“She's mine,” he said, more sharp this time, and the two older boys couldn't help but be scared of his tone.

Part 1 ♡ Part 2

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

suguru is too well-mannered for his own good.

when you walk into his living room, a lidded paper cup in hand, he’s seated on the couch. right in front of the coffee table, his fingers tapping the keys of his laptop, a series of clicks filling the open air.

he’s just as beautiful as always.

light shines in from the veranda, through parted curtains, licking along the contours of his face; illuminating his face lines, soft crows’ feet by his eyes. he’s got his hair tied up into a bun, raven locks and silver strands — only slightly grayed, some of them tickling the back of his neck — eyes narrowing in concentration behind a pair of reading glasses.

you can see his age, like this, but also not at all. he looks younger than ever with the sun as his gown.

suddenly, he raises his head — meeting your adoring gaze with his own. two pools of amber, always warm, like they were made to reflect sunlight, made to pull you in. his lips curling up into a fond, fond smile.

but your gaze strays down to his hands.

big, steady hands. hands that always find their way to the dips of your waist, to the tender juncture of skin between your shoulders and neck, to the top of your head. reaching out to pinch your cheeks, soothe your headaches after long lectures, mend and mold any lump of clay you place into his waiting palms — guide it into whatever shape he pleases, with those skilled fingers, calloused thumbs and nimble pinkies.

when you think of suguru, you think of pottery. you think of something beautiful — and there he is.

and he’s holding a cup.

as you step into his line of vision — hungry for a proper look at him — you can’t help but notice it. painted a deep, dark green, his favorite, but the shape is all wrong. uneven, rough around the edges, not nearly polished enough. when he puts it back down on the table, it wobbles — stumbles.

(you visibly cringe.)

”hi, sweetie.”

that deep, honeyed voice tugs you back into reality, your gaze pulled up like a puppet on a string. suguru is patient, just taking you in, waiting for a response. there’s never any rush, when it comes to him. 

a shy smile blooms on your lips. 

”hi,” you echo, stepping closer; raising a hand up into his view, the one carrying the paper cup, swaying it lightly side to side. ”i got you a latte.”

”oh?” he lets out a soft noise, something like a coo, eyes blooming with fondness. ”chai?”

”mhm.”

his smile only grows. you watch him lean back, absently crossing his arms, thick muscles hidden under the turtleneck he’s sporting. when you take a step closer, eager to hand it to him, he stops you. 

”why don’t you give it a taste for me?” he asks, giving you a sweet tilt of his head. eyes soft and amused.

you blink.

after a moment, you raise the cup to your lips; taking a tentative sip of the brew. it’s hot on your tongue, a dash of pleasant spices, but mellow and sweet. just the way he likes it. you sigh out in bliss.

he only chuckles. ”how is it?”

”tasty,” you hum, licking your lips. holding it out for him to take. ”not too sweet, don’t worry.”

suguru accepts the cup with a smile, his thumb lingering on your hand for a moment, caressing the skin in a soothing, circular motion. his voice a low, tender murmur. ”thank you, honey.”

a warm feeling sprouts in your chest.

”i’ll get you a cup next time i pass by a café,” he continues, taking a tentative sip of his own. he visibly perks up at the taste. ”what would you like?”

”you don’t have to!” you’re quick to assure him, blinking sheepishly. but, of course, he won’t have it.

”i want to,” he chuckles. ”you’ll make me very happy if you let me.”

…

there’s no use protesting, when it comes to things like this. when he gets like this. telling suguru not to take care of you is like asking the sun not to shine.

so you let out a sigh.

”i… want a caramel frappe, please.”

another chuckle. his voice is soft, as always, like a coo is resting on the tip of his tongue. ”understood.”

suguru watches you, silently, for just a moment or two more. you’re meeting his gaze with a shy pair of eyes, always a little flustered by his attention, his care. his sweet little baby bird, coming over just to give him something to drink. straight out of class. 

(you must be in need of some pampering.)

he pats his lap. ”come here,” he croons, parting his legs to give you space to take up. ”keep me company while i work. i want to hear about your day, sweetie.”

you blink, again. looking down at his lap, then back up at him, at the light catching onto the silver of his half-rim frames. he gives you a patient, closed-eyed smile — waiting for you to take your rightful place.

and you do.

his thighs feel solid, beneath you — big arms curling around your waist as you crawl into his lap and get comfy. one hand goes to rest on your hip, the other on your lower back, cradling you close, so secure in his embrace. you wrap your arms around his neck, legs draped over his thighs, leaning into his touch; inhaling the scent of sandalwood and tea leaves.

”… it was pretty boring.”

”oh, i’m sure you can do better than that.” he grins, brushing his thumb over the fabric of your jeans, an absentminded gesture. ”any interesting lectures?”

”uhhh…” 

as you attempt to recollect your long and tiring day, suguru leans forward — reaching for the cup. the ugly one. the stumbling one. pulling it closer, putting the ceramic to his lips, to finish whatever he was drinking before you came in. green tea, you’d guess. the sip he takes resounds in your ear, your eyes sticking to his fingers as he places it back on the wooden table with a clink — it wobbles again. 

you give it a look of silent contempt.

… a look suguru seems to notice. because his keen, warm eyes trail down to where yours are still resting, and then back up at your cute little frown. he raises a brow, but he’s still smiling, an amused curl of his lips.

 ”… what?”

a moment passes. you consider staying silent — but the nagging curiosity gets the better of you. avoiding his gaze, still glancing down at the cup in question…

you absently clear your throat.

”you still… use that one?” you ask him, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. thinking to yourself that it should be stashed away in some forgotten cupboard, not out in the open — but maybe your boyfriend is just too polite to do something like that. 

suguru only blinks.

”why wouldn’t i?”

…

you give him a look.

he returns it with a look of his own; silent, coaxing, that one questioning raise of his brow that demands an answer. he pairs it with a gentle squeeze to your hip, knowing it’ll make you relent. and he’s right.

”it’s…” you part your lips, searching for the right word, frowning down at the little ceramic bundle of joy. with its bumpy texture, that awkward-looking handle, the uneven bottom layer. ”so ugly, suguru.”

”ugly?” he echoes, a spark of amusement in his amber eyes. but he sounds a little discontent, suddenly, almost protective. ”now, now. beauty is in the eye of the beholder, my love.”

his deep voice buzzes in your ear, as he reaches out again — cradling the cup with one large hand. gazing down at it with a look you can’t quite place, so sweet it makes you shiver. a burst of vanilla on your tongue.

out of the corner of your eye, you notice him giving you a pointed look. 

”… and i happen to think this cup is very charming.”

you can’t help but pout, shying away from his gaze, heavy as it is. gnawing at your bottom lip, crossing your arms and resting your cheek near the crook of his neck; muttering under your breath. ”what’s charming about a cup that can barely stand…?”

”you made it,” he answers, simply. ”with your own hands and fingers. and you gave it to me.”

ever so gently, he grips your jaw; his pointer and middle finger tilting your chin to meet his gaze, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. 

”… don’t you think there’s an awful lot of charm in that?”

(warm. his eyes look warm enough to fall into.)

a sigh slips past your lips. he gives you a soft tilt of his head, and you part your lips in pliant response, sulking like a petulant child. ”the ones you’ve made for me are so much better, though…”

you think of all the bowls, the cups and plates he’s given you — the same ones you use every single day, sitting tall and proud on your dorm room shelves, made entirely by him. by an artist. in all kinds of elegant patterns, your initials carved at the bottom of every single one. he always gives you the ones he’s most proud of, after he’s finished with his classes.

(… in comparison, yours is just…)

”we don’t make art for needless comparison,” he shushes you, ever so fondly. ”there’s no end to that. we make it because it’s fun. your pieces aren’t lesser than mine just because i happen to be more experienced.”

…

when you don’t respond, suguru shifts — cradling you close, lifting the cup up to catch the light of the evening sun. it cascades down the ceramic, a mellow orange glow gliding across the green expanse. he watches it with barely concealed adoration.

”… this is my favorite one, you know. in my entire collection.” a joyous little hum buzzes in his throat. ”i’ve never made a cup i liked as much as this.”

you watch his expression change, eyes flickering with something soft and subtle, crinkled at the edges. his voice is nothing but sincere — coated in that sturdy, reliable tilt, like nothing he says could possibly be a lie. even if he tried, you doubt he could fake this kind of delight. putting the cup back down, as gentle as he can, as if it’s a cherished possession. he only looks more delighted when it wobbles a bit.

without thinking, the words slip past your lips.

”… i’ll make you another one.”

suguru’s gaze flicks down to meet yours. all bright and determined, your cheek squished against his shoulder, enough to make him want to coo. he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

”oh…? joining us in the studio again?”

”joining you,” you correct, letting out a quiet huff. ”i… don’t want your students to make fun of me.”

a raspy chuckle leaves his lips.

”they won’t,” he assures you, a hint of pride in his voice. ”they’re much too well-behaved.”

”well-behaved around you, maybe,” you mutter, with a roll of your eyes. nuzzling against his jaw, frowning softly. ”… you’re coddling them.”

”i coddle you,” he purrs, with an affectionate squeeze to your hip. ”i don’t see you complaining, do i?”

”… that’s different.” 

the tiny pout on your lips makes him laugh, he can’t help it. but he indulges you, always, all too eager to let you have your way. ”of course it is,” he coos, deep and teasing. ”how could i ever suggest otherwise?”

you fail to stifle a smile. feeling his skin against yours, his fingers rubbing absentminded patterns into your back, that soothing voice rumbling in your ear. when he leans down, to pick up the paper cup, you’re filled with a sense of purpose. you’ll just have to make a better cup next time — one that doesn’t wobble, with a smoother texture, perfectly symmetrical. one he can show off to his students and coworkers, the same way you do with all the pottery he’s given you.

suguru deserves nothing but the best, after all.

… what you don’t realize is that it won’t matter. even if you give him a better option, he’ll continue to use the cup he has now — with a sheepish little smile, and a sorry, honey. it seems i’ve gotten attached.

(… you suppose it’s the thought that counts.)