#just means his beautiful face is more captivating than his body -><-< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[li-an-nie]

that one manga panel from Kaiser's backstory but with older him :(

[lyrefromthesea]

Please can I request pre-relationship hashira x hashira!reader, where they are sparing together and it becomes a bit suggestive 💙💙

Male pillars x reader - Sparing with benefits

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu , reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: suggestiveness

Tengen:

"you could just give up, there's no chance you could win against my flamboyant self!" he taunted, running around the courtyard with you.

you had been fighting for ten minutes and there was still no end in sight. you weren't a bad fighter, you've been promoted as a hashira some time ago, but Tengen was at advantage right now.

he was faster than you. he had been saving himself from your attacks by avoiding them every time. the smirk on his face only spurred you on more, wanting to win this fight and show him that you were a good fighter.

however, when you raised your bamboo sword for an attack and he turned around to dodge it, you felt yourself trip on a root. it had been sticking out of the ground, making you fall over.

surprised by what has happened, Tengen lost his own halt and fell backwards, landing in a sitting position. you felt yourself fall onto him, at least partly.

when you checked your surroundings, you found your head on his lap. your cheek pressed against his groin. meeting his gaze, you could see his cocky smirk.

"it was an accident! i didn't mean to.." you said, wanting to stand up instantly. this would definitely look wrong from an outsider's perspective.

when you tried to stand up, you felt his hand tangle in your hair, pressing your cheek a bit more against his groin, only satisfied when you felt the bulge against your skin.

"just so you know, my wives had always found you cute enough for this.." he teased, his eyes staying on your widened eyes.

you pushed away, running away from his grip and off the training field.

Obanai:

he was proud of you for becoming a hashira. when he took you in as his tsuguko, he wasn't sure if he made the right decision, but he was sure now.

you were able to follow his movements, dodge his attacks and even make some of your own. your elegance captivated him and he found himself admiring your fighting style.

perhaps he had been diving in his thoughts too much, because when his attention was finally back on you, he was already on the ground.

your legs were on either side of him, straddling his body. heterochromic eyes were staring deeply into yours, surprised by the sudden turn of events.

"i win, Obanai." you said, looking down at the man. your hands were resting on his chest, leaning forward slightly.

his heartbeat was increasing under your hands, cheeks flushing. it wasn't the first time he noticed how beautiful you were, but your allure only increased like this.

"you.. you do.." he muttered, not being able to turn his eyes away from you. yet again, neither were you. you leaned down further, remaining with your faces only a few inches apart.

it would've been so easy to kiss him right now. however, feeling your hips rub against his groin, he couldn't stop his body from reacting, his hands gripping your waist.

"[name], g- get down.."

Rengoku:

"flame breathing. third form: blazing universe!" he called out, his bamboo sword coming at you with immense speed. you barely managed to block his attack - meaning you didn't do it.

your body flew a few feet away, landing on the ground. with a quiet grunt, you turned onto your back. "i give up.." you sighed.

however, there was no audible reaction from Rengoku. turning your head towards him, you wanted to know what's wrong, only to see his wide eyes staring.

he shook his head, running towards you and kneeling down. "are.. are you okay?" he asked, seeing you nod. he didn't respond, as if he knew something you didn't.

"just tell me, Rengoku!" you pleaded, feeling yourself enter a state of panic. did you lose a leg? it wasn't like him to behave this way.

he moved his hand closer, placing his hand against the side of your stomach. your eyes widened, looking down at yourself, staring at your torn uniform.

not only the right side of your shirt, but also the entirety of your right pant leg was missing. you instantly sat up, trying to cover up.

"i didn't know, i will-" you tried excusing yourself, but fell silent when he squeezed your waist slightly, attention moving back to him.

"i'll bring you back." he answered, taking off his haori and pulling it over your form. it didn't help covering your leg, but at least your upper body looked a bit more presentable.

he scooped you into his arms, both your legs around his waist. you rested your chin on his shoulder, wishing to disappear. the whole situation was embarrassing, and even worse, you had felt warm when he touched your skin unhindered.

his hand held you up by your thighs, his grip on your right thigh a bit stronger. you could feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your leg, glancing up at him.

"you.. you're really soft." he quietly said, not able to hide his red face from you.

perhaps the whole situations had it's advantages.

Sanemi:

"stop running! just admit defeat!" he shouted after you, determined to get this fight over with. the only problem: you were extremely fast. you managed to dodge his attacks every time.

"never!" you answered, seeing him try to attack again. you were ready to dodge his bamboo sword, but were shocked to see him drop it mid-attack.

his hand shot towards you instead, quite literally knocking you down with his harsh hit. your back made contact with the ground, Sanemi tackling you down immediately.

"i win." he said, smirking at your defeated form. you tried freeing yourself, not able to push up with his hand on your neck.

"i didn't give up yet." you huffed out, feeling him squeezing your throat lightly - he was warning you. only that his warning didn't work as intended.

a quiet whimper escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment. he had heard the sound, you knew it.

"oh? didn't know you were into the rough treatment." he smirked - teased. your reaction was immediate, pressing your knee up and right against his crotch.

he groaned, letting go of you. he clearly hadn't expected you to do that, especially not after you pushed him away and freed yourself.

"didn't know you were into that, Shinazugawa."

"you-"

naturally, another fight started right after.

Giyuu:

how did this happen? thirty minutes of fighting just for your bamboo sword to be kicked to the side by him. he had been too fast for you, leaving you unable to react.

your back was pressed against the wall, wide eyes staring into his. he had caged you between the wall and his body, his form towering over you.

ocean eyes were deeply staring into yours, his hand pressing against the wall behind you. he couldn't tear his gaze away from your body, not when you were presented right in front of him.

"you lost." he stated, as if it wasn't obvious to the both of you. his eyes narrowed, his other hand moving towards you.

"if this had been a fight with a demon, you would've died." he said, making you feel like prey under his eyes. he placed his hand on your chin, thumb nearly grazing your lips.

"don't lose focus." he uttered, but his eyes had long broken their contact with yours. he was watching your lips instead, as if he was debating on a kiss.

"i wont." you answered breathlessly, getting his attention back on you. he let go of your chin, stepping away and picking up your sword.

"let's try it out." he taunted, neither of you really focusing on winning or losing now.

Gyomei:

this fight was unfair to begin with. without a doubt, you were one of the strongest swordsman in the corps. you've served as a hashira for three years now, but no one could win against Gyomei.

naturally, you admitted defeat when he threw you over half the lake, immediately asking whether you're fine or not.

your head broke through the water, gasping for air. the water was freezing cold, but you told him you're fine.

he still made the effort to help you out of the water, drenching his own clothes in the freezing liquid.

"are you sure you're okay?" he asked, big tears already rolling down his face again. you avoided your eyes from his form, not trying to appear inappropriate.

"i'm fine." you answered, looking at your own body. both of your clothes were quite see-through, giving you a greedy sight of his muscles and abs.

looking down at yourself, your clothes weren't any better. you thought of yourself as lucky, not wanting to live with the shame of letting him see so much of your body.

"come, it's freezing in here." he told you, pulling you into his arms and out of the water as he made his way out of it.

what you didn't know, was how his fingers could feel everything that you were seeing. your clothes stuck to your skin, not leaving much room for imagination.

he stepped out of the water, but instead of letting you down, his head tilted towards yours, foreheads nearly touching.

his hands squeezed your body, millions of thoughts running through his head. "you're.." he said, but he stopped, not wanting to do something he might regret later.

"you're still wet, we should get some dry clothes.." he told you instead, putting you down again, his hand sliding against your curves for a moment.

you watched him walk forward, your lips parted. was it wrong that you had hoped for him to continue?

[reignpage]

Splish Splashing

Summary: in which Merman!Nanami courts and fucks Mermaid!reader Warnings: smut, f!reader, penetrative sex, lovemaking, mutual masturbation, merman anatomy, loss of virginity/couple's first time, dirty talk - praise, biting, blood drinking, cum eating, exhibitionism, unfortunate slips from past to present tense sorry lol - not proofread - will probs be edited later and more detail added Word Count: 2.7k

Merman!Nanami, for as long as he could remember, had always had a crush on you, another mermaid in his pod. How could he not with your iridescent scales, captivating hair which flows in waves around you, and seductive smile?

You were kind and graceful, offering your help whenever you could and leading the way for your family. A beacon of light in the darkness that he could not look away from. The quick conversations on his way to patrol the surface and you to teach the merlings were no longer sufficing; he wanted more. Merman!Nanami wanted to go home together, wanted to be in your presence from high tide to low, to know you inside and out, to be the thing that kept you tethered, the way you were for him.

For many moons, you two had been swimming around, grazing fingers and exchanging heated glances. In your eyes a curious, lingering depth could be found, enticing him to dive in, to succumb to the whirlpool and drown in all that you could give him. There was no doubt about it; you liked him back. He knew what he needed to do. 

The courtship began with small gifts like a small trident that he found from a shipwreck, fallen-off claws for your hair, and a hard-fought shark tooth as a protection charm. They were little trinkets that you could use every day; knowing you carried him with you as part of your routine made his heart soar. You accepted his gifts and his songs happily. 

But you deserve much more. So his search led him to the seafloor for something just as vibrant, as vivacious, and gorgeous as you. It was no easy feat but Merman!Nanami would not give up. He could not. Shaking off the persistent desire for mentorship from a pink-scaled guppy, he ventured into a burning, forbidden zone, where no mermaids or mermen dared look in the direction of – his fingers were sore and healing for weeks after he foolishly rummaged through the scalding rocks by the volcanic rift south of his pod’s coral palace, all to find a glowing emerald stone he had a friend fashion into a golden diadem. 

Of course, he had no regrets. 

At the full moon’s peak, when the whole Pacific Ocean’s humble citizens came together to celebrate the heightened forces that bind the community into a peaceful coalition with a feast, you two found each other in the crowd, practically drawn together, hearts beating as one. 

Your tails intertwined. Eyes locked. Voices humming the same tune. Palms pressed against the other, his fingers longer and webs slightly bigger, he led you through the other bodies searching for one another, the towers of coral, and rains of pearls, all the way up to the surface. Illuminated by the moon’s light, you looked up at him, shyly, and eagerly accepted his gift. It looked much better on your pretty face than he could have ever dreamed. 

“It’s beautiful, Kento.”

He breathed out, “Yes…you are. Uh, I mean, it is. No, you are. Beautiful. So beautiful.”

You laughed. “Thank you. But I do hope the night won’t end with just a dance and a crown, Kenny.”

Emboldened by the physical manifestation of his devotion, which weighed heavy upon your head, you reached up and kissed him. You shared the same air, fuelling his ambition and urging him to grip your hips with his calloused fingers. That was the furthest you two had ever gone, too shy to go too far too quickly. Nothing was holding either of you two back anymore. 

Turning ravenous, the kiss became sloppy and messy, saliva dripping down his chin, tongue mingling and teeth nibbling on sore lips. Merman!Nanami asked, “Are you sure? We don’t have to.”

“Ken…if you don’t fuck me tonight, I’ll drown you myself.”

“Always so violent,” he mused. “Alright, my love. Let me feel you.”

The rubbing and grinding of your lower halves together was driving him wild. Like an impish eel, your arm slithered down, dainty fingers expertly navigating the sensitive slit on his tail. 

Merman!Nanami gasped. No one but him had ever touched him like that. No one else had delved into the burning pocket there and felt the smooth skin inside, swollen with need. He jolted. Your fingers are softer than his, more gentle, and satiny. It felt like Olympus submerged. 

“Have you touched yourself here before, Ken? Be honest.”

Red-faced and a little ashamed, he admitted, “Yes. Sometimes it feels better than touching my cock.”

“Hmm, I bet. I’m sure you could cum just like this right?” With your spare hand, you coaxed out the hot length of his cock and rubbed up and down, thumbing the underside of his leaking cockhead. “Wow…you’re so big. I’m almost scared it won’t fit. But we’ll make it fit, right, Ken?”

“S-sweetheart, p-please.” He didn’t know what exactly he was begging for. All he could think about was how right it felt to have your body pressed so close to his, breaths mingling, and tongues exploring the wet caverns of parted mouths. Merman!Nanami let slip a frightened whimper when something foreign begun to grow from his scaled slit. “What’s happening? That -ngh!- t-that feels odd.”

You nipped his bottom lip, swallowing the bead of blood and moaning at the sweet rush of his addictive taste. “No one told you about this, Kenny? You’ve never found it yourself? Oh, you’re like a poor little guppy.”

Clinging onto your breast and flicking the nipple there, hidden under jellyfish-like tendrils, he demanded, “Don’t make fun of me.”

The giggles from your soft lips almost brought a smile to his. 

“Sorry, Kenny. It’s a spur. It’s supposed to make me feel good…here.”

His fingers were guided to your slit. He was a stuttering mess, overcome with delirium and flustered at finally being able to feel what he’d envisioned during late nights and had only heard about through seaweed vines from bragging mermen. Hot, sticky and exceeding expectations, Merman!Nanami could only fumble about, poking and prodding like a useless clownfish. You should have left once you saw his inexperience. He wouldn’t have blamed you. But you didn’t. Instead, you held him tighter and whispered encouragements.

Similar to his own, your slit had thin-scales surrounding the vulnerable area. When he groped there, you shuddered. And inside, it was smooth and swollen. Once he got a grip, emboldened by the marks you were leaving on his skin and the pumping of your fist up and down his throbbing cock, he pushed his fingers deep inside, webs flexibly pushed back.

A strange shyness overtook you, unused to baring yourself to someone else, forcing you to hide your face in the crook of his neck. There, you dug your teeth into his flesh, sending venom into his bloodstream just as you drank his blood mercilessly. His hips stuttered. "Good girl...it's alright...keep -hah- drinking."

The venom was making him lightheaded. You'd penetrated him, your very essence coursing through his body and filling him up. It was addictive. Maddeningly so. In that moment, Merman!Nanami understood the obsession mated pairs had with drinking from each other until they were rendered paralysed and unmovable for days.

Shaking his head to keep focus, he wrangled through the euphoric haze derived from being able to sustain you to your mesmerising cunt.

Whereas his was only a shallow space which hid his cock, yours seemed to go on forever. Impossibly tight and delectably gummy, he found himself scissoring his fingers, not to stretch you in preparation as he knew he should have but rather, just to feel you. 

At the apex stood a small clump that, when rubbed in circles, elicits louder moans from you. That must have been what all the mermen of his age were so proud to have found, he realised. 

There were pleats by the entrance and then a pillowy area reminding him of the heads of jellyfish. He curled his fingers against it. You moaned. “Does that feel good? Hmm? Do you want more, sweetheart?”

You jerked him off faster and faster. The feeling , coupled with your delicious voice, was going straight to his head. “Yeah, Ken. Please.”

“Oh, so polite. What a good girl. Come here, sweetheart. Come give Kento a kiss.” The novelty of the feel of your lips might never wear off, he thought. It was a kind of bliss no one could ever deserve. And the mere suggestion that you’d welcome him so wholeheartedly, under the dazzling stars and full moon, embracing him – all of him – was sending him deeper and deeper into a world of joy he’d kill to keep. 

The breast covering you wore had torn off some time ago, leaving your bare flesh touching his. Manic, he found himself muttering anything that bubbled in his head. “I c-can’t believe I’m supposed to go inside here. In your pussy. You’re far too tight, like a clam.” 

Through whines and whimpers, you scolded him. “Don’t compare my pussy to a clam, Ken. That’s bad.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He swallowed hard. Truthfully, he wasn’t thinking. No one could think clearly when the most beautiful thing to have graced the depths of the sea is in their arms, moaning their name and baring their mark upon their head and on their supple body. 

Merman!Nanami sent vibrations through the water with his sudden thrums; your teasing tongue had found his gaping gills. He had never felt that kind of pleasure before. Poseidon be damned, he didn’t even know he was sensitive there. More and more you were teaching him all about the body he’d carried his whole life, awakening him to a world of wonders and pushing him to want more. 

“Oh, my darling pearl, can I put it in now? Please. I want to cum -hah- inside of you. I want to feel you. To be one with you.” You hastily mumbled affirmations into his mouth. He sighed, relieved and impatient. Clumsily, he lined up with his cock, thumb accidentally skimming his newly-discovered spur and hissing at the sensitivity there. Inch by inch, he made his way inside. “Fuck! Ah, fuck, so good, so tight, so -hngh!- warm.”

Feeling your gummy walls with his cock was so different than with his fingers; it was as if he could feel you better. You were scalding, softer than anything anyone could find in the sea and on land, he was willing to wager, and so tight he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. Never in a million years. Not even if the gods themselves commanded it.

When he bottomed out and the spur at the top of the base of his cock met your clit, you both gasped. “K-ken…what a dirty mouth you have.”

“Forgive me, my love.” He pleaded, hips instinctively driving through your clenching walls. Merman!Nanami knew he should have taken things slow, should have been more romantic and made sure you were alright but your pussy was sucking him in like the most deadly current and he could only go along for the ride. “I just need to -hah- to make you mine. All mine.”

“I am yours, Ken. Always.”

A shaky smile filled your sight. “Thank you. Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I-I promise to treasure you for life.”

You pricked a finger against his canine and allowed him to suckle at the blood trickling out of it. Merman!Nanami whimpered at your taste, already feeling the powerful effects of your blood in his system. He sucked even more down his throat, suddenly finding himself so thirsty. As if urged on by a supernatural force, his hips gyrated his spur against your clit in tight circles. 

“That’s really -oh so good, Ken- sweet. But I want to h-hear you say you’re mine too.” He cooed and kissed your pout away.

“I’ve been yours before I knew that our souls are one, sweetheart. I was only ever made for you.” His fingers trailed along the fins lining your spine, touch light against the crevice. The membrane twitched just as your walls clamped down on his dick. “Don’t! Ah, f-fuck, don’t tighten on me like that.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, jaw hanging and flashing your sharp teeth. “Then don’t say -hngh!- romantic things to me. Ugh, fuck, I’m close, Kento. More. Give me more.”

“Yes, sweetheart, w-whatever you want.” Merman!Nanami was ramming and pounding and plunging into your quivering cunt. His spur was rubbing and grinding and kissing your pulsing clit, all while he tickled your spinal fins with one hand as the other kept your lower half in place. “I’ll give you the world. Anything to make you happy.”

Hand over his chest, feeling the rapid beating there, you said, “I only -ah, wait! Hey! I’m trying to be sweet too. Hmm soo good… you’re distracting me.” 

He whispered an apology on your cheek, not slowing down at all despite your complaints. “You’re already plenty sweet, my love. The sweetest. But go on, darling. Make my teeth rot, you adorable thing.”

In retaliation, you flicked his nipple just to watch his head be thrown back with a hiss. “I was saying…I only need you, Ken. Just you and your beautiful heart.”

“Say the w-word and I’ll -hah that’s it, sweetheart - I’ll take it out and give it to you.” And he meant every word. There would only ever be one deity he’d swear his life to and she was wrapped around his cock. Just one sign from you and he’ll roam the seas looking for whatever will make you happy.

Tails intertwined and no longer working to keep you two afloat, you both spiralled beneath the surface, falling deep into the depths of the water, uncaring of who could see. As far as he was concerned, there were only the two of you. You and your sweet laughter, your sloppy cunt, and loving embrace. 

The diadem on your head rattled with both the weight of the gemstone and the force of your rocking and jostling. You'd never looked more majestic.

So, when your mind-shattering orgasm, which left you a babbling mess on the crook of his neck, propelled him over a cliff, he painted your walls with a grunt. 

“Kento!”

There was no rhyme or rhythm to his thrusting, only a desperation to be emptied so you can be warm and filled up. Some drops of his cum were pooling out. He quickly scooped them up and brought them to your mouth. Finally, his cum wasn’t going to waste, beading into pearls in the water. You were absorbing them into your body, greedily gulping the spend and clamping for more. 

"Delicious, Ken...you've saved up a lot for me, haven't you?"

Merman!Nanami cradled your body as he slumped down on the seabed, sand disturbed. He was still inside you, albeit quickly softening, but neither of you made a move to get him out – the closeness was comforting. "All for you..."

Freshly fucked out, he still couldn’t grasp the fact that he finally touched your skin, tasted your kiss, and heard your melodious voice calling for him. It was everything he dreamed of and beyond. A life full of darkness, of loneliness, of swaying with the waves with no direction or destination ended. Together, everything laid out, bare for each other, you made vows that would last for an eternity. 

“We should probably go back to the party, Ken. Our friends will be looking for us.”

Merman!Nanami pinched your chin and tilted your head back. Unable to help himself, he stole another kiss, swallowing your moan. You giggled. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of hearing the infectious laughter from your lips. If he could bottle it up and take it with him anywhere, he would, even if he had to sell his voice for the opportunity. 

“Hmm, I think they can wait after one more round, no, darling?”

You laughed even louder. “We’re not going to see them at all tonight, are we?”

He smiled. “No, I suspect we won’t.”

"You may not be planning on seeing us but we sure as Tartarus have been seeing you. A lot of you, actually. Perhaps too much, one could say."

Merman!Nanami's smile dropped and a deadpan expression took its place. "Hello, Gojo...and the entire pod."

[syluses]

thinking of sylus comforting his wife reader!!

content: insecurity, comfort, fluff, soft sylus, slight possessiveness, suggestive content

sidenote: whaaaaat a fluffy drabble?? ( ᵒ̴̶̷̤◦ᵒ̴̶̷̤ ) yes ignore me yall it’s just about that time of the month u feel me 😞 taking preemptive measures to cope with pms which means writing small comfy lads drabbles :] dunno if anybody will fw this cuz it’s purely self indulgent LOL but yeah ♡ short n sweet (1.7k 🌝)

You haven’t left the full-body mirror for several minutes, now.

No, see- there’s just something about your reflection that’s keeping you rooted in place there.

Sylus has slipped in and out of the bedroom as he gathers his things to go, his black card the last accessory needed for the evening out- tucked safely in his pocket- but now, he settles into a lazy lean against the doorway.

Watching.

There’s a slight notch in his brow as he stands there, arms folded, and lets out a forbearing sigh.

“Sweetie: You look nothing short of captivating. You’re breathtaking,” he arches an inquisitive brow, “You know that.”

Wide-eyed, held prisoner by your own portrait staring back at you— no. You don’t.

You don’t know that, and fuck if that doesn’t gut him a little on the inside, but for all the efforts he’s made to remind you of your beauty (though, that’s putting it in gentler terms; he’s inculcated you, really. Drilled it in (and in more ways than one)), your insecurities are very much built with the intent to last.

Throughout much of your relationship, they have.

Sometimes they’re a quieter thing, manageable. Other times, they stick their foot in between you both and rear their despotic heads, bent on tearing you down- and if he’s left as ruin as well in the fallout, they don’t even care.

Those wheedling, rotten voices make compelling arguments sometimes, but they eventually lose out to the greater thing: your love for Sylus, and his for you.

…That’s not to say that the battle isn’t ever close, though...

Now is one of those times where it’s advancing on you, and fast.

Right now, stuffed in your glittering, cocktail dress, with its slip in the thigh and its low-cut cleavage a hair’s width from scandalous— it’s meant to be elegant, but you feel like a fool.

A whore, even. A cheap, low-end girl insinuating herself into a space where she doesn’t belong- a world full of class and finery you were truthfully never tailored for. You’re like a bull in a china shop or a sore thumb.

Your breasts are snug, your curves are embraced by the silk, and the makeup you’d spent over an hour perfecting- your done-up hair, too- is impressive even to the most critical part of your brain.

But still, your body- it’s….

Sylus, now propping off the doorframe, eyes tracking your every expression all the while, moves to slide up behind you when your gaze flutters to the floor no different than ash and remains there. Your chest heaving with the beginnings of a mini breakdown.

Whatever it is, whatever you are— you can’t bear to look. You don’t want to. You- You won’t.

You aren’t his graceful, sophisticated trophy wife- or even half the effortlessly beautiful model you’d seen depicted in the centerfold Sylus saw you originally fawning over, the one that spurred this rash purchase on in the first place- no, what you are is ridiculous.

Your glossy eyes flit up again.

It’s all awful. But like a bad car crash, you just can’t find it in you to really look away.

He brushes aside your hair with a lithe, broad hand, exposing your neck looped with fine gold and diamond (nothing you’re deserving of, either), and stoops down to kiss your shoulder. The ruby red eyes pinned to your crestfallen face never stray far from it though, even as you close your palm over the back of his while he clasps your waist, crooning in your ear with a heavy breath.

“Kitten, what’s troubling you?”

Like he doesn’t know.

“Everything,” you shake out, tears pricking at your lashline. All that keeps you from bursting out into waterworks like a child right this very moment is the knowing that your meticulously-applied mascara will wash down your cheeks in black rivulets, effectively ruining your foundation and eyeshadow in their paths.

“E-Everything’s troubling- just look at me.”

“I am looking at you,” he hums gently, breath warm agaisnt your skin where his chin is perched on you. “And I promise you, Sweetie, I’m not seeing the same thing that you are. Tell me,” he murmurs, pasting down another chaste, lingering kiss- to the exposed nape of your neck this time- for good measure, “Do I have any reason to lie to you?”

A muscle in your cheek jumps. Your lashes flutter down. “N-No…”

“You know,” he murmurs. “Loving you’s easier than you think.”

Hesitantly, you twine your little fingers around Sylus’s forearm, his wristwatch catching a blocky highlight from the dim, flax sheen of the light fixture behind you.

“You’re gorgeous. How perfect you are—“ he mumbles at your ear, voice low and velvety as ever, composed. And yet the undertone of desperation is there; woven like fine threads throughout- it’s like a broadcasting of his eagerness. “That’s all I can see,” he breathes. “But I want you to say it, though. What do you see?”

Your answer comes quick: the first of a few others of its kind. “A whore.”

In the full-body mirror, his brow quirks in subtle, slow motion. His lips draw back from the smooth column of your dazzling neck. “What?”

A whore? …That much is new to him.

“And I feel stupid- I… I feel gross in this dress. They’d think I’m some concubine hanging off your shoulder-“ the frantically spewed words and the growing tremble in your voice is the mark of a ramble, and yet you cut yourself short. Swallowing it down as you dip your head, eyes screwing shut.

He’d preach a whole sermon if he could for all the faith he has in you. Your self-consciousness and those silly, yet disastrous little things you hold near and dear to your heart— that dictate your life while you sit back and watch— would be dismantled as soon as he got behind the podium.

…But you just don’t hear a word he says, do you? You don’t hear to begin with.

Yes- Sylus has long understood that it’s not always as easy as that. That words can fall short. He’s always considered himself a man of action, but sometimes even then it’s hard to get through to you when you shyly evade his touch and weasel out of his arms before they can even wrap around you.

Stubborn woman.

Obstinate woman.

Make him break his neck while sticking it out for you, woman.

But oh he’d lift his hand to do anything for you, woman.

The day will come where he’s made you see it.

“Concubine,” he scoffs, laughing dryly. You don’t hear that often from him, that level of bitterness, but it’s there in bounds when he huffs in your ear and turns you around to look at him, lifting your jaw up in one graceful motion.

“Let me clear this up for you, Sweetie. When people see you, their first thought they have is not that you’re some… gaudy sidepiece. The opposite. And if there’s any lingering doubts in their mind,” he explains smoothly, taking your hand in his to kiss the back of it, holding your uncertain stare all the while. “This ring puts them all to rest.”

Scarlet pools ripple with warmth, an almost playful edge to them as he attempts to lighten your mood- but you don’t quite miss the flash of woundedness that passes through.

“Besides…”

Adoration, reverence, the resolve to make you understand these truths (that you’re beautiful; pure in his sight)- a little bit of exasperation and a little bit of vulnerability— they blur together on him like winded vanes of a pinwheel. Too fast to color, too fast to catalogue.

But evidently not fast enough to pass you by completely. And so as your heart squeezes painfully in your chest—

“Does your husband’s opinion not matter to you the most?”

You bluster, “It does,” doing your damage-control as you wrap your arm around his neck and pull him impossibly closer, a hand on his jaw to cradle it reassuringly. The flutter of something so briefly small in his eyes hauls you into reality, grounds you.

“It’s all I care about, Sylus,” you implore, “But don’t you understand that if they think poorly of me, it’ll just tie back to you in their heads? They’ll think lower of you if your wife isn’t—“

“Isn’t what?” He snips back, but leans into your touch.

You fall silent.

Eyes fiery, they search yours, his breath warm and minty against your parted, floundering lips. “What they want? Well, kitten, let me be perfectly honest with you,” he chuckles lowly, tone scraping the bottom of something undeniably possessive, “I don’t want any of them to want you…. It’s pretty reasonable that the idea of somebody craving what’s mine would upset me, no?”

Not providing him with an answer- frankly unable to- he again fills the space where you can’t.

“But I like you in this dress,” he states, gaze dropping down to rake over you in a few strained breaths. Your wine lipstick. Your décolletage and the jewels draped there, blinding, hanging over the valley of your breast.

…A hickey you did a half decent job at covering, he smugly supposes.

“Much more than like, even. So if they stare, what does it matter? Let them. Like I said,… they won’t be thinking anything poor of you-“ he offers a small, blithe chuckle, “the worst will be a jealous woman or two. Nothing worthy of ruining our night out, however.”

You take a moment to ponder all of his words. Not just this evening’s- but the countless that came before, too.

You weigh your options— stubbornly continue on in your self-sabotaging ways, thoroughly exhausting yourself and Sylus out in the process; or caving to his reassurances and choosing to believe them— and then weigh your eyes shut.

Slumping into his broad chest to let him hold you, you stand against the miniature insurrection happening inside you and go for the latter.

“You really don’t mind?”

A warm hand smooths down your back; the other, petting your hair in a featherlight hover to not ruin its style, pauses for a second. “Mind what?”

You huff. “You know. Me in this dress.” Earning a longsuffering sigh on his end.

“Why do you doubt yourself? I told you. You look breathtaking in it. You act like it’s such a problematic thing, Kitten, but I only know of one person who will want to have a word with you about it…”

“O-Oh yeah? Who?”

When your husband pulls back some just to stare at you, your hands resting on either of his broad shoulders as your heart hiccups in your chest, all that keeps you from erupting in another small bout of panic and dread is the daring little quirk of his brow— the barest of grins tugging at one end of his cupid-bow lips.

As an answer, he dips his head in and angles it just so to graze his mouth over yours, the tip of his bumped nose poking your cheek as he moors you to him by the small of your back and taunts,

“Perhaps you’ll just have to find out for yourself tonight, hm?”

Something’s in his pocket, you realize as he embraces you— semi-hard, just a little insistent against your tummy— and no, it is not his credit card.

[its-luna-noel]

headcanons - chubby reader

how the jjk men would treat a chubby reader

gojo x reader, geto x reader, nanami x reader, choso x reader, toji x reader, sukuna x reader

masterlist

warnings: 18+, MDNI, suggestive material, sexual contents, true form!sukuna

Satoru Gojo would not be into it at first (let’s be honest). He’s so obsessed with strength that it’s hard for him to come to terms with the fact that strength comes in many forms. But once you’re dating and you’ve got him whipped – oh boy, does he cling to you. He loves how soft and plush your thighs are, how pillowy your tummy is, how he can take a handful of your tits and just play with them. He loves everything about you, especially your perfect body, and he won’t let you say anything negative about yourself.

Suguru Geto is so sweet and loving towards your body from the very beginning. At first he’s totally on the “I love you, so let’s get you healthy!” route – trying to get you to come to the gym and work out with him, being your personal trainer and helping you through every set. But if you tell him you don’t want to lose weight and you like how you look and feel in your body, it takes him a while to get used to the idea, but he’s there with you to the end.

Kento Nanami does not care one bit. From the moment he met you, he knew you were the one, especially with your extra curves. He likes to grab the fat around your hips and hold you as he fucks you deeply, stroking your insides with his cock. He holds your hand everywhere you go, and if you ever get looks while you’re out like what’s someone like him doing with someone like them? he glares at them the entire time until they look away from his scathing hazel eyes.

Choso Kamo is a lover boy, through and through, which means there’s just more of you for him to love! He adores grabbing your tummy and burying his face in it, mumbling soft words of praise – so pretty my love, so beautiful. He’ll start peppering kisses there before slowly making his way lower, rubbing his face between your thighs before you can whine for him to stop teasing you, holding your thick thighs to the side so he can lap at your swollen pussy.

Toji Fushiguro likes to use you to show off his own strength. He lifts you up like it’s nothing, even when you’re a blushing mess and telling him nooo you’re too heavy! He scoffs at you and slaps your ass, watching the jiggle of it before he smirks and tells you to sit still while he puts you where he wants you. He lifts you onto the bed, the kitchen counter, the bathroom sink, the hood of his car – anywhere he can dream it, he does it. Then he’s manhandling you, fucking you so hard your eyes cross and you can’t even think hard enough to be embarrassed about your body.

Ryomen Sukuna looks at you like you hung the stars, because how else would a goddess look than a well-fed, soft, chubby beauty like you? He worships you like you’re the epitome of human perfection, because to him you are, showing off your curves like a work of art. He uses all four arms to hold you, letting the lower two trail up and down your waist, squeezing and appreciating, all while he hums and growls under his breath how fucking captivating you are and how he can’t imagine anyone else being his queen.

[sttoru]

sukuna never understood humans. they always say and do things that annoy him in a way. though after meeting you—his favorite little concubine—that annoyance has slowly started to turn into fondness, something he isn’t ready to accept or even acknowledge.

“come inside and quit your foolishness,” the king of curses groans, sighing for the nth time. his four arms are crossed over his chest and his expression is unreadable. he’s exasperated by your silly antics once more.

it’s raining—pouring—yet you’re outside in the courtyard. you’re smiling from ear to ear as you hop from puddle to puddle, enjoying the cold droplets that continuously fall and wet your skin. “oh, come on! it’s fun,” you giggle, urging sukuna to join you.

the pink-haired man only shakes his head and clenches his jaw. he doesn’t see the fun in being out there when it rains. he doesn’t understand why you’re so happy about getting dirty and wet. the kimono you’re wearing is one he specifically ordered for you and here you are, ruining it.

sukuna wants to get angry, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to raise his voice or show his disdain. the smile on your face and your happy giggles refrain him from doing or saying anything too hurtful.

if it were any of his other concubines, he’d probably have punished them the second he saw them being somewhere they shouldn’t.

but that doesn’t mean sukuna isn’t going to talk you out of it. or try to.

“y’ll get sick, brat. get back here i said,” sukuna calls out with a frown. he lets out a low groan of frustration when you simply continue to walk around happily in the rain. are you seriously not aware of how fragile humans are? being in this cold with little coverage is going to make you sick.

sukuna has had enough of your antics. he stomps forward, not caring about the rain that’s wetting his clothes. he just wants you to get inside and dry. he frowns and opens his mouth, ready to scold you.

however, as he closes the distance between you two, his voice got stuck in his throat. the sight that greets him makes his frown slowly disappear. his eyes wander over your face and body from up close, finally noticing just how beautiful you are while enjoying the stormy weather. the pure joy looks good on you.

you’re soaked, clothes and hair dripping wet, and yet you still manage to captivate him. the carefree smile on your face only adds to your charm. sukuna stops just an arm’s length from you, eyes narrowing.

you turn to face him properly and chuckle. “thank you for coming out to play with me,” you comment half-jokingly. you reach out to hold onto two of sukuna’s hands, tilting your head back to stare at him with those eyes.

those puppy eyes that will make even a ruthless monster like him calm down.

sukuna clears his throat and grumbles, “this is stupid.”

you laugh softly as you notice how he’s trying to hide the effect you have on him, though you know better than to address it directly. you wrap your arms around his waist, your bodies now pressed together. you tilt your head with a teasing grin, “reaaally? is it now?”

sukuna rolls his eyes, but doesn’t make a move to push you away. he can feel every curve of your frame pressing against his through your wet clothes and the sensation sure is tantalising.

his large hands move on their own. two settle on your waist while one other creeps up your back to come tangle into your hair, yanking slightly at the strands to make you tilt your head back.

sukuna leans down, his red eyes focused on your parted lips that are calling out to him. his mouth is on yours before he realises it, claiming you in a fierce kiss.

the rain continues to fall around you two, but neither of you seem to care. you’re too lost in the feeling of each other to pull away from the intimate kiss. your lips are moving in tandem, tongues brushing together.

you only pull away when you run out of air. you breathe heavily as you look up at sukuna, seeing the same yearning reflected in his piercing eyes. it makes your tummy tingle—makes you feel all giddy to know the power you have over such an unfeeling man.

sukuna doesn’t say a thing. the tension between you two is only emphasised by the rain. the continuous pitter patter of the droplets seems to only increase with time, making it harder to see, yet also intensifies the unspoken feelings. perhaps now he can understand what humans find so romantic about being in the rain with their someone.

but there’s this all-consuming thought that drives his mind towards a more dark place. looking at you with your kimono hugging every curve, the water drops dripping down your bare skin and your half-lidded eyes staring at him like he’s all you care about—it’s making the king of curses want to devour you whole. a carnal desire that threatens to take over every time he feels that foolish, sappy emotion which humans call love.

sukuna snaps out of his daze and a muscle in his jaw ticks. he grabs your wrist and cocks his head towards the doors leading inside. “alright, let’s get y’r ass inside,” he huffs and starts dragging you off with him, “i don’t want you complainin’ to me when you get sick, y’hear?”

you whine but now better than to struggle. you walk with him, heart still racing as you think of the intimate kiss you shared. you know you’re the only one who gets the privilege to kiss the king of curses, to be so close to him, to have him indulge your silly requests, to have him look at you with such insatiable desire.

it makes you even giddier thinking about it.

you look up at the back of sukuna’s head as he guides you inside of the palace, attempting to convince him to extend your little romantic outing, “can we do it agai—”

“no.”

well, it was worth a try.

[pseudowho]

You could have walked to the café to meet Nanami Kento alone; you'd have preferred to, in truth, walking slowly in slow drizzle.

Instead, He walked you there, pushing through the tinkling door that He held for you, begrudgingly, as if you should be grateful. You could not look up to meet Kento's eye.

When you did look up to see Kento, stood waiting for your pre-mission meeting, He pulled your gaze back with a scowl, and a grab of your jaw.

Kento caught whispered berating; mumbled pleas.

"--just a work meeting...please--"

"--you remember to text me. You'll do well to remember you're mine."

You jolted from His pat-slap to your cheek, too sharp to be affectionate but too weak to turn heads. Still, humiliation festered on your face, putrefaction laid by His hand.

Kento remained unmoved, passively unthreatened by His filthy glance before He retreated from the shop. Something dark stirred in Kento's gut. The malice was not meant for you.

You sat at the table, wordless, your cold hands wrapping around a coffee which seemed to be, curiously, your exact order. Already here. Already waiting. Just for you.

Kento pulled his own chair out, sitting opposite you, one long tan-trousered leg crossing over the other. You looked down, your eyes cast in shadow. Kento looked to the insidious, gloomy drizzle outside, his sharp features cast sharper by the midday lamplight.

Eventually, achingly smooth, his voice called you home.

"What does 'mine' mean to you?"

You looked up at him, blinking. Your brain ticked.

"I don't...I don't know."

Kento was quiet again, leaning back in his armchair beneath the arching lamp, regarding the rain as though it watered his thoughts. He spoke again; you hung onto every word.

"When I was a boy, my grandfather left me a diamond."

The coffee shop buzz dimmed, and slowed, and muted. Kento captivated you so easily. The world fell away. Here he was. Already here. Already waiting. Just for you.

"It was...exquisite-- the diamond. The best and the brightest. A beauty amongst beauties." Kento took a deep breath in through his nose, feeling your cold little heart slow. "I didn't deserve it. It was...a privilege, to call it mine. A mantle that I bowed my head to bear."

Your fingers loosened around your coffee as Kento continued. His voice strained, aching for something.

"I could never be enough for the diamond, so I...I would build my life around it. Not in spite of it, but because of it. I hesitate to say I possessed it; it was no painting, or ivory box. Its beauty was far too timeless to be owned, for this diamond's beauty would outlive us all. If not in body, at least in memory."

The air felt light in your lungs, and you with it, as if you floated on helium, high and sweet. You yearned to reach for what was not yours. Your little voice spoke up, braver in Kento's ambient warmth.

"Tell me...tell me more."

Kento obliged. "On days when my diamond was dull, without its shine, I'd polish it more. I'm...gentle. I know it better than my own skin, and by the time I'm done, it sparkles."

Your eyes drifted closed to trap your sorrow. Your head bowed down, as if to be a diamond in daydream.

"On days when it shines-- and, god it does shine-- I can only step back and admire it, while it takes its time in the sun. They...deserve each others' beauty, the sun and she, and I would wither and rot if I kept them from each other. My diamond...my diamond deserves the world, and it deserves her."

Kento leaned forwards, now. His ambient warmth kindled higher until you burned as though he were the sun, and you yearned to blossom.

"I fear its loss; I am only, of course, a man, and I couldn't expect others not to covet such treasure, and so I keep it close. I would bring it to my bed, if only it would let me. I'd hold it in my sheets, if I did not fear I would sully it by my proximity alone."

Your lips parted so briefly, your objections snagging on your teeth to remain upon your tongue. Your heart weighed down with mercury and lead. Kento's voice could not be more than a whisper, and yet, with the steam-arm shrieks and the tamping chatter muted to insignificance, you could hear him.

"I would surround her with other beautiful things; not costly things, not necessarily, as if material goods were needed to enhance her. But rather, those things, and only those things that compliment her as she compliments them, be they wildflower or fairytale or fine wine."

Your coffee salted with the drop of a tear from your bowed face. Kento turned aside from your tears; not to disregard them, but to allow their trails to bloom as if creeping wisteria-- growth, in grief. A handkerchief slid across the table to you in one broad, calloused hand, and Kento sounded physically pained.

"Eventually, as I age, I recognise that all I was, am, and will be, can be traced back to such a diamond; not because I could not live without it-- that wouldn't be accurate. Rather, because, with the diamond removed from the equations which make the sum of me, the equations would unravel-- nothing would make sense, and if I ever tried to replace it, I would always come up short. I would never find the answer again. If I were to lose it...I could only surmise that I did not deserve it, like...like a prophecy fulfilled. It is not mine, and it will never be, if I seek to possess it."

As you fought the urge to gasp for air, Kento's voice grew bitter, snide. You caught the sharp edge of a blade; the darkness that reminded you that he could be a dangerous man.

"Men who use 'mine' for their partners are less than a stone's throw from boys who would use 'mine' for a toy car or a set of dominoes. As if...as if they are a thing to be played with, and jealously possessed, until they are discarded and forgotten."

Your coffees cooled in the chilly aftermath of Kento's monologue. Your purpose for meeting was forgotten. You were numb-footed as you stood, and followed Kento outside to the rain in the shelter of his great umbrella. He offered you an arm, and you took it, tucked close to his body.

It was curious, you thought, as Kento walked you to the train station. Arm in arm was less intimate in the eyes of society than hand in hand, but the hold was so much more intimate upon the body of the receiver.

Kento closed his fingers around yours, gently refusing, as you offered him back his handkerchief. He waited until you were beneath shelter, and did not turn to walk away until you did. Your heart pounded. Your body and mind were alive with sweet botanicals and promise. You turned on a pinhead, calling back up the subway steps.

"Kento! Did you...do you really have a...a diamond like that?"

A pause in wet footsteps. Fine needles of rain upon his umbrella. Kento called back.

"Sadly, no. It's only a dream. But if I did have that diamond...well. I would be proud to call her mine."

Your heart would surely burst. You couldn't breathe. Your cold little hand clasped the handrail on the stairs, and you sought to deny Kento's morbid prophecy.

"You could...you could steal it. A...a diamond. Your diamond."

A smile, and a hum.

"I could. Perhaps I shall. Perhaps...soon."

[withahappyrefrain]

https://www.tumblr.com/withahappyrefrain/756666693791760384/yes-tyler-needing-a-handblow-job-before-going-on?source=share

okay listen 👀 tyler dry humping you against the side of his car before getting to work

Hi, can I kiss your brain? It's beautiful. We got some good ole porn without plot smut here folks.

Having no neighbors within a three mile radius has many perks.

Halloween is spent watching movies, not handing out candy at the door. You can host a party but don't have to hear someone else do the same. No HOA means you're free to paint your door whatever color you damn well please.

It also meant you could grind against your husband's denim covered thigh against his truck.

It started out as a kiss. A goodbye kiss, like one you had given Tyler so many times before he headed out to chase a developing storm.

Okay, yes, it was more heated than sweet this time around. More desperate than gentle. Your hands gripping his sun kissed hair instead of resting against his broad chest.

Who could blame you? Prior to getting a call from Boone, you and Tyler were underneath your bedsheets, his talented mouth having just started to unravel you.

Hopes that Boone was calling to fire off a new experiment were quickly dashed when he called a second time, in between Tyler's phone going off with text notifications, no doubt from the rest of the crew.

The cluster of storm cells had the potential to develop into something big, which Tyler swears is the only reason why he got out of bed and began to dress.

You had opted to stay in the baby blue night slip, knowing you weren't the one on the chase and it was Tyler's favorite.

Another perk of having no neighbors meant you didn't need to put on a robe in order to walk Tyler out to his truck.

So yes, if you were in a courtroom, facing trial for trying to tempt Tyler, the evidence would be overwhelmingly against you. But he truly started it, those large hands of his gripping your waist so he could pull you back for another kiss.

You could never leave it at just one kiss. He knows this. All you wanted was to simply be as close as humanly possible. After all, how else would you be able to inhale his captivating scent of oak and sandalwood?

He has your left knee pinned against his hip, allowing you to feel his denim cladded erection against your thigh.

"Fuck," his voice is breathless as his hips jerk upwards. A tornado is nothing, but feeling your soft body in his hands is enough to nearly bring Tyler to his knees.

Your mouth swallows his needy grunts, a hand squeezing his clothed erection, chest pressed against his.

"Ty," your nickname for him comes out in the form of a weak, needy whine, "Want ya s'bad."

"I know, but I gotta-fuck!" He hissed upon feeling his clothed erection against your bare cunt.

That, you absolutely did on purpose.

He abruptly stopped, hastily opening the passenger door. "Bend over," he hissed, pointing to the now available seat.

You quickly oblige, toes curling at the sound of his belt buckle clicking.

Having no neighbors mean you can be as loud as you want. Who could truly care about a noise complaint when the head of his cock was brushing against your clit?

When his cock sinks in, you breathe a sigh of relief, body welcoming the pleasurable stretch. Tyler always makes you feel so full, all you can think about is just him and his ridiculously amazing cock.

Now that should be investigated.

Thanks to your earlier, albeit interrupted, romp in bed, you're ready for him, allowing Tyler to quickly build up a rhythm. It's hurried, his thrusts harsh and sloppy. And yet, you can help but cling to the passenger seat

The sound of his hips slamming into yours can barely be heard over the moans that fall effortlessly from your mouth, along with the grunts Tyler grits out between his pearly white teeth.

"S'fuckin tight f'me," He groans, "Love you s'much. Can't wait t'come home t'you and this ah perfect pussy."

He's addicted to you. Your soft skin, the way your ass jiggles with each thrust, the shameless moans that fall from your kiss bitten lips. How soft you are, how tightly you cling onto him.

Tyler seriously considers calling out, making up some excuse, hell, even just being honest with his crew.

Who could be upset at a man for wanting to spend more time with his wife?

But he also knew you wouldn't let him. Ever since college, you knew of his dreams and how badly he wanted to follow them. You also trusted that he would always find a way back to you.

"Fuck, pretty girl. Need you to cum f'me, think you can do that?" One of his large hands reaches down to where you two connect, long fingers drawing circles on your clit.

You can barely keep your head up, nodding weakly as your walls clench around him. All you can do is take him, all you can do is let yourself go into the pleasure fueled haze you were craving.

He leans over as he feels your release, stubble scratching against your bare shoulder.

"Atta girl, feel s'good," his words are beginning to slur, signaling how close he is. You reach back, hand finding his dark blonde locks and giving the strands a harsh tug.

The whine Tyler lets out is music to your ears. It just takes one, two, three more sharp tugs for his hips to stutter, his release trailing behind yours.

His body covers yours and for a moment you two simply stay like that, breathing heavily.

"Hey, com're," His voice is now soft, gentle, his longer fingers cupping your chin so he could turn your face towards his.

Thin pink lips crash onto yours, the gesture a stark contrast to what occurred several minutes ago.

"Love ya," he confesses between kisses. Despite having heard it multiple times a day, it still makes your heart flutter.

"Love ya too cowboy," you smile against his lips, "But you should get goin'. Don't wanna be late."

Tyler shrugged, "You know how long it takes them to get ready. Besides, what kind of husband would I be if I didn't help my wife clean up?"

If Boone asks if you were the reason Tyler was an hour late, you would happily plead guilty.

[motomamita]

creep!könig × camgirl!reader

warnings: +18, smut, könig being a creep, dick flashing!

könig spent the entire night switching from camera to camera, looking for a girl who would catch his attention or get his cock hard. he searched and searched until you appeared.

your angelic face and your incredible body captivated him. you were wearing a loose top, no bra, and just a pink thong underneath. you laughed sweetly at the off-color comments that strangers left you along with donations of money.

you didn't have many people watching you, könig was glad because it would be easier to get your attention. had idiots lost their good taste? you were the most beautiful and valuable on that page for old perverts.

"i just fell in love. marry me."

he wrote along with a big donation of money. your eyes shine when you heard the sound of the notification and you laughed sincerely when you read the message.

"aww, kingkönig89, how sweet you are! thanks for the donation, and maybe one day we'll get married."

you joked and blew a kiss to the camera, making sure your breasts were pushed together and looked good. könig's heart raced and he soon noticed how his fat cock was throbbing against his naked abdomen.

that night he masturbated until he passed out, and without another penny in his bank account.

for the next few months, könig made sure to be on each of your streams, commenting sweet things on you and making sure he was the one who donated the most money. könig became someone known to you, being the first to enter and the last to leave.

you soon began to grow on the platform, gaining many more followers and attention. it was then that you asked könig, your biggest follower, to help you moderate your broadcasts in exchange for private video calls with you. obviously he aceppted

however, könig took advantage of this opportunity to drive away all those damn perverts who were trying to gain your affection and attention. he banned all users who donated more money than him, or anyone who managed to make you smile. he should be the only cause of your happiness.

when you noticed something was wrong, you decided to confront him.

"please, i'm just doing the right thing. understand me, ours is special."

könig begged looking at you through his screen, you couldn't see him because he refused to show his face except for his muscular chest.

"i'm going to have to find another moderator, könig. i'm sorry if you misinterpreted my actions, i... i don't know you, i don't know what you mean about ours being special."

you were heartbroken, you never thought that könig would have gone so far as to privately complain to you every time you greeted other users, blew them kisses or even gave them a good shot of your ass.

"my love, you promised me you would marry me! you can't do this to me!"

könig lowered his camera to his crotch where his swollen and wet cock was, which was throbbing insistently.

"look how you have me, you can't get me away from you. now, show your pair of tits on camera for me, please, baby."

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓃 ℒ𝑜𝓋𝑒? - Part Two

Pairing: Viltrumite!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: Smut, I mean I guess it’s dubcon but not really cause reader definitely is into it

Tags: Angst, obsessive love, soft!yandere, power imbalance

Word Count: 1,426

Synopsis: In the quiet aftermath of abduction, he undresses you with reverence. His love is worshipful, obsessive, and terrifyingly tender — a devotion that feels more like captivity than care. He thinks you’re his. And in the most haunting way... You almost start to believe him.

Part One

He slid the straps of your dress down slowly, exposing the soft curve of your shoulders. His hands were warm as they brushed over your newly exposed skin, his fingers grazing the gentle slope in a way that made you feel… precious.

His mouth followed his hands. Gentle kisses pressed to your neck, your collarbone, each one leaving a mark of affection. The feel of his lips was soft, almost desperate.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured, his lips against the crook of your throat, his breath hot and urgent. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours for something — approval? Comfort? Permission?

You didn’t give him words. You couldn’t. But you didn’t move away either.

That seemed to be enough for him.

He placed his mouth over yours in a slow, consuming kiss. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, soft but persistent, tasting you like this for the first time. His hands cupped your face gently, holding you there like you were something he could break, but didn’t want to.

And then, with an almost reverent slowness, he began to undress you.

Each movement was careful. His hands slid down your sides, fingertips brushing your skin as though he was memorizing every curve, every inch of you. He tugged at the fabric of your dress, pulling it free from your body in the softest motions — like he was undoing some sacred knot.

When the last piece of clothing had fallen away, he paused.

His eyes took in the sight of you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, the sharp edge of his gaze softening. He was looking at you like you were something precious — not just his, but something so valuable that it hurt him to even look at.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, as if he was speaking to the very essence of you.

He moved over you slowly, hovering above you, his body pressing gently against yours. He kissed your forehead, your eyes, the bridge of your nose — each kiss an offering. He brushed your hair from your eyes before his hand slid down your arm, intertwining with yours fingers. His touch was tender, each movement calculated and careful.

And when he finally aligned himself with you, he didn’t rush. He watched your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. His fingers brushed over your hips, down your thighs, back to your waist, keeping you close — like you might slip away if he wasn’t careful.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmured, voice hushed like it belonged in a cathedral. “I need to feel you… all of you.”

He shifted, hips lowering, and you felt the thick head of him press against your entrance — hot and hard, already leaking against your folds.

Your whole body tensed.

He noticed.

His brow furrowed, lips parting like he might stop — but then your hips twitched up, just the smallest movement.

And that was all he needed.

He exhaled like he was about to weep and pushed forward.

God, it was slow.

Too slow.

The first inch slid in with resistance — your walls clenching down, not out of desire, but the shock of the stretch, the impossible pressure. He paused immediately, eyes flying to yours.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. His voice shook. “You’re okay. Just breathe for me.”

His hands were shaking as they held your waist, like he was afraid to grip too hard. He dipped his head, kissed the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw.

“You feel…” He swallowed hard. “So warm. So tight. You were made for this.”

Another inch.

Your mouth opened with a gasp. Your back arched.

He moaned — a real, broken sound — and buried his face in your neck.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re taking me so well.”

He ground his hips forward another inch, easing in, stretching you so wide it felt like he was leaving fingerprints on your soul. His whole body was trembling with the effort of holding back — because you could feel it, the way he was biting down on the need to just take.

But he didn’t.

He was gentle.

Devoted.

Desperate.

“I’m almost there,” he breathed into your skin. “You’re almost mine.”

And then, finally — he bottomed out.

Buried inside you to the hilt.

His hips pressed flush against yours. His cock filled you so completely you didn’t know where you ended and he began. The fullness made your eyes blur, a soft involuntary sound slipping past your lips.

He froze. Looked at you like you’d just given him life.

And then — God — his eyes filled with tears. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

He kissed your lips — slow, reverent, like he was afraid they might disappear if he moved too fast. His hand trembled as it brushed the hair from your face.

“You’re mine now,” he said again, voice trembling. “You’ve always been mine.”

And then he started to move.

So slowly.

A deep, aching grind that made your breath catch. He rolled his hips into you with control so precise it felt unnatural — every inch of him moving like he wanted to leave a memory of himself inside you, like this wasn’t just about release. It was about staking a claim.

His forehead pressed to yours. His nose nudged against your cheek. His hands slid down your body, one splaying flat against the curve of your lower back, the other slipping beneath your thigh to pull you closer, deeper.

You felt everything.

The stretch. The drag. The unbearable closeness.

And he watched you through it — eyes half-lidded and burning, lips parted, breath shaky. Like he was watching the most beautiful thing in the galaxy unfold beneath him.

“You feel so good,” he whispered. His voice was wrecked. “You’re perfect for me. Like you were made to fit me—”

You hated how true it felt in that moment.

Because despite everything — the horror, the helplessness, the fact that this wasn’t real love — your body was responding. Your breath hitched. Your hips tilted into his, chasing the rhythm he was so carefully giving you. Each slow, deliberate grind rubbed against something inside you that made your spine arch, your hands clutch at the sheets.

And he felt it. Saw it.

“That’s it,” he breathed, his lips ghosting over your mouth. “Don’t hold back from me. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

You weren’t pretending — not in that moment.

Because the pleasure was real. The heat building in your belly, the way your muscles clenched around him every time he pushed in — it was real. And he knew it.

He moved with devastating patience, like he wanted to savor every second. Like this was the only time that mattered. His thrusts were slow and deep, the kind that made you feel him everywhere, the kind that pulled helpless noises from your throat no matter how hard you tried to stay quiet.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmured. “So many nights, wondering what it would feel like to finally be inside you like this. To have you. Completely.”

You felt the tremble in his arms, the tightness in his chest as his movements started to falter, just slightly. Like he was trying to hold it back, trying to make it last, but he was unraveling.

He leaned down, pressed his forehead against yours again, eyes locked on you. You couldn’t look away.

And then you saw it.

His eyes were glassy. Wet.

A breath shuddered out of him.

“I love you,” he said again — hoarse, broken. “I love you—”

His hips stuttered, and he sank in deep one final time, burying himself in you with a groan that sounded like it tore straight from his soul. His whole body trembled above you, muscles taut, breath ragged — and then you felt it:

His release. Warm and slow and too intimate.

And while he came, his eyes didn’t leave yours. That’s when the tears spilled.

Two of them, sliding down his cheeks as he held your face in his hands like he was terrified you’d disappear. He kissed you through it — small, shaky kisses on your lips, your chin, your jaw.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I didn’t know I could feel like this.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Because he meant it.

This wasn’t just obsession anymore.

This was love — his version of it — twisted and possessive and terrifyingly pure in its devotion.

And now you were the center of it.

Whether you wanted to be or not.

[r0manceplanet]

NSFW Alphabet with 1x1x1x1

A/N: Well Folks, I finally have came out with the masterpiece some of y’all have been waiting for now, I worked extra hard on this (as usual…) and I’m exhausted 😭🙏 but I think I’m proud of this and now I’m gonna go eat wax candies and stay off tumblr to process what the hell i just wrote 🥰. Enjoy!

⚠️Warnings: Smut smut smut smut anddd smut, it’s smut folks what do you expect? Anyone can read this but please be responsible to since i dont control what people can or can’t do.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

• With 1x for this, it really depends on the aspect of it.

• The aftercare can be either more traditional with cuddles, praises, cleaning up…

• And I feel like he would enjoy just being cuddled up in your arms while you whisper sweet praises in his ear.

• And of course, he would also do the same to as long as he was comfortable enough doing it, he likes to hold you in his arms and clean you up.

• However, that’s if he’s feeling up to being all sweet and everything, especially if the aftercare is in private or public.

• Most of the time, including at the start of your dating he would mostly just roll off of you and fall asleep, and never speak about it the next day (unless you do).

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

• 1x takes a lot of pride and care with his hair (with him being in his betrayed form). His hair means a lot to him..!

• 1x definitely loves it when you play with his hair, especially during sex since your able to get a few or more noises out of him. And just you tugging at his hair proved to him how good he makes you feel.

• For you though? I don’t think he couldn’t pick a favorite body part from you, unless if he’s held captive and had a gun pointed to his head, he would say he loves seeing your neck down to your lower back covered in his love marks.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

• Jeez, this man is so gross when it comes to cum, NF it doesn’t even matter how far he goes about it either.

• 1x is careful whenever he decides to finish inside you, he does not wanna father (another) child at the moment.

• However, it makes him feel… something whenever he sees his cum inside you, your realese mixing with his own, it makes it send shivers down his back.

• Oh, and he would be so teasing about it too, he’ll even push down on your stomach just to see some of it spilling out of you.

• But, if he’s not finishing inside of you he’s either cumming on your face/body or in your mouth, he just gets more hard when he sees his cum on your body.. your just so beautiful when your like that!

• No matter where his cum is, wether it’ll be all over your body, in your mouth, inside you etc.. there will always be no more sight any prettier than seeing you painted with his cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

• His dirty secret is that he keeps souvenirs of your belongings whenever you are with him, whenever you guys had you adventures he likes to steal a few of your things or keeps sake whenever he doesn’t see you

• And whenever he’s really needy for you, or he just misses you, he pulls out a box full of your belongings, with one of your underwear’s and starts sniffing it (and jerking off to it) to feel comforted by your scent.

• He even has a couple of photos saved when he’s taken pictures of you during your little… sessions.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

• Bro has literally -0 experience with anything that has to do with dating, especially if it’s sex too.

• And once he started dating too, he was (obviously) still inexperienced, so you would have to guide him and his movements though it all, but he can get the hang of it after doing it a couple times.

• Once he gets the point of it, and he knows what to do, he’ll never leave you unsatisfied.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

• At the start, he would want any positions where you are taking the lead, since he would be inexperienced the first time.

• Those positions would most likely be cowgirl at the start, where you would be able to get on top of him and start riding him.

• And when he’s on top, he’ll take any position that’ll make him fully in control, where he can manhandle you while he pounds away into you, and where you can’t squirm away from him.

• He’s pretty much open almost all the time to experiment different positions, he may be a little hesitant if it’s something he isn’t used to.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

• He’s never silly during sex, and I don’t think he will ever be goofy, and if he actually is it’s pretty rare

• He’s not joking around about it because he wants to focus on his pleasure, and very importantly your own, and he wouldn’t be able to at least be a little bit silly because of how good you make him feel everytime.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

• In my opinion, I don’t think he’s that well trimmed at all, but he doesn’t let it get wild though so he cuts the hairs every once in a little while.

• And, he also genuinely doesn’t mind what you have down there either, you won’t ever hear him judging you for it at all.

• But, if you ever wanted to tell him to take better care of himself, he’ll definitely listen to you if it makes you feel comfortable enough.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

• 1x is not good at expressing himself with words much, but even though he doesn’t do well with that, he is amazing at being able to show how much he adores you though his actions.

• And sex is one of the ways he’s able to express intimacy with you, be close to you.

• He loves being able to touch skin with you in anyway, it’s like he wants to mold into you to become one, and he’s so cuddly towards you during and after sex.

J = Jealousy, do they get jealous easily?

• 1x is more possessive than jealous per say, he wishes he didn’t get so possessive over you because he knows he can trust you but it’s rooted deeply because of people betraying him, and he’s mostly scared of you leaving/betraying him to (which you would never!).

• He will never share you with anyone else, not in any lifetime.

• When he gets possessive, it’s usually when someone else is stealing your attention, and who he deems as a threat to your relationship. he’ll most likely drag them somewhere without you noticing and killing them off.

• In a result, this usually ends up with him fucking your brains out to the point where you can only whimper and scream his name.

• And he places marks all over your body, just to give people a small reminder of who you belong to. It gives him a huge power boost.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

• 1x is the type of person who really, REALLY enjoys anything that’s rough and hard, where he’s able to pound himself into you wildly that you won’t be able to walk for the next week.

• He LOVES degrading you during sex, but after it’s over he makes sure to comfort you and praise you after, because he does still care about your mental health overall

• He also enjoys being praised, I feel like it really makes him feel more loved, and he’s able to feel safe and not be on guard all the time, being able to let go and enjoy.

• He gets a huge ego boost whenever he’s able to make you cry from overstimulation, begging him to slow down. It makes him feel so good because he can feel like he’s in charge.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

• Usually, he likes to do it in private, like in the bedroom or in the living room… WITH the curtains closed, he doesn’t want anyone else to hear your heavenly noises that come out of you’re mouth, those are only for him.

• But, if it’s in public he would like it if it was semi-public, like doing it in the closet or someone’s bedroom, he gets excited whenever he thinks of the fact that someone may come in on the both of you doing it.

• But in the end, it’s where you and him feel more comfortable doing it after all.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

• For 1x what gets him going is you, just yourself being you, especially if your the one flirting and getting him all riled up.

• He doesn’t have a huge sex drive, but when it comes to you it can be really high, you just have to tease him, just do anything to get him going.

• You can even just wear his clothes and he’d get a hard on, and if your on his lap he can easily manhandle you just where he wants you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

• 1x doesn’t have any limits when it comes to you, but to name a few he doesn’t like hurting you in any way, shape or form.

• But, as long as your comfortable he’ll try anything you want as long as you consult with him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• He enjoys receiving more than giving… not that he doesn’t wanna give you oral it’s just because he’s not that good at it at the very beginning

• You would have to guide him how to eat you out/or suck you off… And that will take a bit of time and practice.

• But once he gets used to it he’s a champion at it! And he will never stop until your legs are shaking.

• When he is receiving, you make him feel like he’s somewhere dreamy, where he can lose himself in you.

• You are able to make him feel so good, he tugs at your hair as he watched you go down on him, it is truly a beautiful sight before his eyes to see you on your knees for him.

• He may thrust into your throat after a little bit if he’s getting frustrated, he can’t help it when your giving him head!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

• In my opinion, he’s really fast and rough, he’s able to get his frustrations out on you, and the man genuinely needs some relief from all the problems he’s carrying.

• But, if he’s feeling up to it he’ll go slow, enough to rile you up and beg him to go faster.

• It’s not just for your own enjoyment but his as well, focusing on you is just part of the process.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

• If it’s really urgent, as in like you riled him up to much, then yes, he will do a quickie with you even though he doesn’t really like them much.

• He likes taking his time with you at home, not where your in a rush, so quickies will only happen if it’s urgent for the both of you.

• And if it’s in public, he’s gonna have to find a private or semi-private area for you and him. To get off quickly, he does not need to be caught by anyone.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

• 1x for sure likes trying out new things that’s no lie.

• And yet again, he will do anything that your comfortable with so the experience is good for the both of you.

• When you try new things with him to experiment, it makes him feel happy inside to know that you trust him and your safe with him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

• He doesn’t have a super high sex drive, so it’ll usually take him at least 2-3 rounds for him to be done, he gets overstimulated fast if the rounds go for more than his limit.

• And during these rounds, he lasts a little longer than most to finish, as he seems like the type of person to enjoy dragging it out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

• Not before you came into the picture, if he had to get off he would just use his hand, he never owned any toys.

• But, if you decide to get some toys for yourself, including for him he would really mind, but toys do not make him feel good, you make him feel good.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

• 1x is more of the tease than you are. He enjoys to see you get riled up and turn into a mess in front of him.

• Hearing you beg for him has such an intense turn on for him.

• He loves to tease you where his fingers brush over your underwear where you need him most but he won’t give you exactly what you want.

• Seeing your body squirm and trying to get him to where you exactly need him makes him chuckle a little and thinks it is the most cutest thing ever.

• Generally, he just adores teasing you, he loves your reactions.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

• He’s not exactly the loudest person per say, but he has the volume in him.

• He knows exactly how you react whenever he groans or grunts in your ear.

• But the better ones is where your able to get him to moan or whimper.

• And usually, he’s not too quiet he never shuts up ever, even if it’s not during sex he’s just a huge talker and loves to hear himself talk.

• He has a list of pet names for you, and knows how you react to each one of them, he uses them to dirty talk in your ear just to see you blush.

• 1x loves hearing you, your moans and whimpers are always pushing him to the edge of his end.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

• 1x is surprisingly very easy to get noises out of him, you just have to please him really good, or tease him and your able to get noises you thought you would most likely never hear in your lifetime, and you’ll be able to get him submissive for you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

• 1x is definitely bigger than average down there

• He has more girth than length though, but he’s still big and long.

• You’ll also be able to point out some veins whenever his sick is hard, he definitely has big dick energy.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

• Again, his sex drive is not that high, but since he has a list of penh up emotions like frustration that’s where his sex drive goes through the roof.

• And he’s able to let go because he’s with you and your able to make him feel like his life is not difficult and not all things are truly bad.

• 1x will always be yearning for his partner on any way, even if it’s just though cuddles, he’s secretly a simp and a fool for you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

• If your in his or your own bed it’s always very tempting for you both to fall asleep, especially for 1x since he’s the person who usually just sleeps after sex.

• If you guys had a longer session you’d both be too exhausted to do any aftercare until you both gotten your sleep

• 1x loves the cuddles after sex, being in your arms is so comforting after everything, and he loves hearing sweet words being whispered into his ear from you.

• And he thinks to himself that he has the most precious thing ever (you), and he’s able to be happy again.

[anantaru]

cw. breeding + marking, fem! reader

wriothesley knows that you like to be bred as much as he loved claiming you in such vulgar way, and every muscle in his body seems to focus as he grinds his hot load inside the tight hole— most likely edging himself on until he's overstimulated and cums a lot harder, better, so your cunt twitches after every new roll of his hips.

because do not misunderstand the duke, okay? wriothesley needs to be sure it's all getting in there, has to be certain that it will reach you entirely, precisely so your belly could be all warm and cosy, so your womb was full of him and he can mark you up in an expressive type of way.

fuck, you know he means it when he tells you that he will fuck you all night until your body takes over his musky scent, claiming his territory so no one in teyvat will even dare to question if you're taken or not.

they will simply know.

however, it's intimate when wriothesley does it, utterly gentle when he slowly grinds the spilled cum back into your hole as you're whining out his name in sweet, little trembles— your figure spent and mind barely listening, your soul too captivated by his thick shaft splitting you in half and aching your thighs until you simply cannot part them more.

his large palms keep them up for you though, just in place which was draped up his shoulders, greedily squeezing and pressing at the flesh of your thighs as he fucks his load back into you.

you're leaving it to wriothesley's strong hold to steady and pleasure you at the same time— your walls forever memorizing the outlines of his length as you flinch within a shaky breath when you listen to the wetness that accompanied the lewd snaps of his hips.

needless to say, you enjoyed it whenever wriothesley was so rough with you to the point where you're seeing glimmering stars and then helplessly climax around his cock, sense the throbs of his dripping dick melt into your soused walls as he claims his territory again and again and again.

but now, you smile to yourself, because there was just something in how he held you so sweetly and precious when tightly locked in between his strong arms— sweat covered chests intertwined within each other as he tiredly glances down at you, a soft noise that was more a whisper than anything manifesting an appreciation across his entire face.

wriothesley was just so enthralled by your beauty— he doesn't see the difference between having you all glammed up or fucked out with your mascara sticking to your cheeks. he loves you at all times, voices just how much he loved this, loved you, and how deeply it turned him on that you adored it too.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[jakedaydreaming]

ᯓ★ dance practice . 西村力! ୧

⋆˙ ⟡ pairing: childhoodfriend!riki x reader

⋆˙ ⟡ genre: FLUFF; kissing, skinship, playful banter.

⋆˙ ⟡ synopsis: childhood friends, you and riki, find their late-night dance practice turning into something more. years of unspoken feelings rise to the surface as playful banter evolves into flirtation, and the line between friendship and romance blurs in the quiet intimacy of the studio.

૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა click here!

the late-night studio air was thick with the familiar scent of sweat and polished floors. you were battling a particularly stubborn choreography, the beat pulsing through you, but your frustration was growing. you'd been at it for hours, and the tricky transition just wouldn't click.

"still fighting with that move, huh?" a familiar voice drawled, and you turned to see riki leaning against the mirrored wall, a playful smirk on his face. "i thought you'd have mastered it by now, childhood bestie."

you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "oh, shut up, riki. you know i hate this part."

"well, maybe i can help," he said, pushing himself off the wall and walking towards you, his movements smooth and confident. "after all, i've known you since we were tripping over our own feet in ballet class."

"yeah, and you were always the one who landed gracefully," you retorted, but you couldn't deny the warmth spreading through you.

"exactly," he said, his eyes sparkling. "so, let's see what's going on." he stepped closer, his presence filling the space, and you suddenly felt a little flustered. "show me."

you ran through the move, stumbling slightly on the transition. riki watched intently, his eyes following your every move. "you're too tense," he said, his voice low. "you need to relax, let the music guide you."

he stepped behind you, his hands lightly resting on your shoulders. "like this," he whispered, his breath warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. he guided your body through the movement, his touch feather-light but firm. "feel the rhythm? let it flow."

you followed his lead, and suddenly, the move clicked. the transition felt effortless, smooth. you turned to him, a triumphant grin on your face. "i got it!"

"of course you did," he said, his eyes twinkling. "you just needed a little… persuasion."

the playful banter continued as you practiced together, the atmosphere charged with a familiar intimacy. riki's teasing was laced with a flirty undertone, and you found yourself blushing more than you'd like to admit.

"you know," he said, leaning closer, his voice a low murmur, "i always thought you looked beautiful when you dance. even back when you were wearing those ridiculous tutus."

you blushed, pushing him playfully. "oh my god, riki, stop."

"i'm just saying," he said, his eyes sparkling. "you have a way of moving that's… captivating. like you're telling a story with every step."

"you're just saying that because we've known each other forever," you said, but your heart was pounding.

"maybe," he said, his eyes meeting yours, his gaze intense. "or maybe it's because i've always been a little bit… captivated by you."

the air crackled with unspoken tension. he reached out, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "you know," he whispered, "we've been friends for so long… maybe it's time we tried something different."

he stepped closer, his eyes searching yours, and you knew that the line between friendship and something more was about to blur. "what do you mean?" you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

"i mean," he said, his voice low and husky, "i've always liked you. more than a friend. and i think you feel the same way."

he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, and you closed your eyes, the anticipation building. "riki…"

"shhh," he whispered, his lips finding yours in a soft, tender kiss. "just… let it happen."

the kiss deepened, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for years. the late-night dance practice had become something more, a moment of realization, a turning point in your lifelong friendship. and you realized, he had always been flirty, you had just been too blind to see it.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 20 - sweet time erasing you

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, angst, i recommend listening to sad beautiful tragic while reading this...

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

the girls all arrived to your place as fast as they could, finding you in a state.

"oh my god" kie said, taking you in. all the girls did nothing but hold you as you fell to the floor, heartbreaking sobs escaping you.

sarah pulled you into her arms as you completely broke down. kie and cleo followed, wrapping themselves around you like they could physically hold you together while your entire world was shattering.

“it’s okay,” sarah whispered, even though it wasn’t. “we’re here. we’ve got you.”

but nothing felt okay. nothing felt real.

your chest ached like someone had physically torn it open, leaving you raw and exposed. sobs racked your body, each one more painful than the last, and no matter how tightly the girls held you, it didn’t stop the emptiness from swallowing you whole.

“i—” you tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, another choked cry escaping instead.

“i know, y/n,” kie murmured, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. “i know.”

but she didn’t. none of them did.

“i can’t-” shaking your head. “i can’t do this. it hurts. it hurts so much.”

sarah tightened her hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i know, honey. i know it does.”

this wasn’t just heartbreak, this was losing him, losing everything.

"i don't know what to do." you cried.

"there's nothing you can do." cleo said, wiping your tears.

"i have no right to be upset, i broke up with him." you mumbled.

"you have every right to be upset." kie started, "this is raw, this is painful. you're going through heartbreak. allow yourself to feel this."

you swallowed hard, your breath still coming out in uneven gasps. "but what if he never loved me?" the words felt like glass in your throat, cutting you open on the way out.

sarah pulled back just enough to look at you, her brows furrowed, eyes filled with something close to anger. "don’t do that to yourself, y/n. you know he loved you."

"did he?" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "because it sure as hell didn’t take him long to replace me."

kie let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. "that doesn’t mean what you two had wasn’t real. but you were the one who walked away. he was always going to do something reckless after that."

you wiped at your swollen eyes. "well, congrats to him. he fucking won. he destroyed me."

sarah cupped your face, forcing you to look at her. "no. you ended it because you knew you deserved better. and that’s the strongest thing you could have done."

kie squeezed your hand. “ heartbreak is messy. it doesn’t make sense. it tricks you into thinking you need someone who hurt you. but you don’t, y/n. you don’t need him.”

but you did. at least, that’s what it felt like.

rafe had been your everything. your home in a new city, your comfort, your person.

and now?

now, he was just someone kissing another girl on your phone screen.

fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you pulled away, wrapping your arms around yourself like you could physically hold in all the pain. “i hate him,” you whispered, but the words felt hollow, not believing yourself.

because no matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t hate him. you hated how easily he seemed to let go. you hated that he got to be the one moving on while you were stuck here, picking up the pieces of something that had already shattered.

sarah sighed, running a hand through her hair. “you don’t have to be okay right now. but one day, you will be. and when that day comes, you’re gonna realise that you deserve so much more."

maybe one day, you’d believe that, but not today. not yet.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: i am very sorry about this one

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes@judesgfirl@4urvalidation@chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover@yesshewrites1@amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld@blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@vcnillafairy@bambii1i @sammyrenae68 @kittenjujusblog @bambii1i @thesunflowersociety @wtfdudesblog @voidangxls @jjmaybankmylovee @munsoncultedits @emmiesummers @darlingstarkey @sassyvillaintrophy  @pogueprincesa @stylestarkey @sodapopwaldorf

[leehnz]

when words fail

taesan x fem!reader (self insert lowk)

summary: a new job at the convenience store introduces you to a love you never thought you would find :3

wc : 4.9k

friday nights are usually your designated nights. you enjoy spending time cuddled up in your bedroom, duvet draped over your body while you watch your favorite kpop band perform on your laptop screen.

despite being unable to see them live, the feeling is electric—unreal, even. but those nights of solace are no longer, and all because you decided to get a job. it isn’t easy finding a place suitable to your taste, but you manage to find one at the convenience store on the corner of your street, a place you frequent.

of course you don’t choose to get a job out of the blue, there’s an underlying reason. that being your desire to see your favorite band in concert. though watching through the screen is enjoyable, the feeling of seeing them live is unmatched.

listening to their heavenly vocals, seeing their elaborate and skilled dance moves along with their angelically crafted faces in person? you’d be a fool to turn down a chance at experiencing that.

that’s why you’re standing in the doorway of the convenience store, application in hand as the owner, an older man with graying hair, leads you inside the store. “come, come!” he ushers you in warmly, a gentle smile on his face.

“i’m sure you got the email about getting the job already.”

you nod, following closely behind as he leads you to the register. the register that changes the course of your experience at your new job, and all because of one boy.

he’s gorgeous. extremely tall and sharp featured with high cheekbones and the cutest pouty lips. his face holds no expression, but his eyes, his eyes speak to you more than you believe he ever could.

“ah, this is taesan!” your manager introduces excitedly, ushering the boy to come out from the counter. he complies, steadily making his way out until he’s in front of you.

“taesan, this is yn. she’s the new employee i was telling you about.”

you bow, to which he reciprocates, before offering your hand out for a handshake. he glances down, slightly surprised, before taking your hand in his own. his hand is soft, but you can feel the slight callouses—a testament of hard work.

“nice to meet you.” he says, voice silky smooth and full of honey. this job is only supposed to be a means of getting money, but your introduction to taesan makes you second guess your intentions.

would it be all that bad to find romance if you were still making money? 

“i’m hoping you can start soon. i know it’s short notice, but can you come in tomorrow?”

“definitely,” you reassure him, offering a small smile. your manager thanks you, before leading you around the backroom where the employees stay. all the while, you find it hard to keep your eyes off of taesan.

he’s just so captivating.

you’re in for a lot of trouble.

–

the next day, you begrudgingly roll out of bed an hour earlier than usual. yes, having money is exciting, but your beauty sleep will always be more important. nonetheless, you make it to the store in just the knick of time, quickly greeting a bored looking taesan who lazily nods in acknowledgment.

“morning,” you mumble, bowing quickly, before disappearing into the back room. taesan’s eyes follow your figure, a slight quirk of the corner of his lips making an appearance at your disheveled semblance.

“rough morning?” he asks when you finally emerge from the room, hands hurriedly tying the straps of your apron behind your back. you nod, brushing your hair out of your face before joining him at the register.

he just chuckles, and holds his hand out. you tilt your head in confusion.

“huh?”

“phone.” he says simply, brows raising expectantly.

you pout, muttering under your breath as you dig in your pocket to hand him your phone. then he laughs, a genuine laugh, and it makes you look up at him, and the sight makes your breath hitch.

he’s even cuter when he smiles.

“i’m just messing with you. i’m supposed to be training you today though. are you ready?” he leans against the counter, eyes never leaving your face.

you nod, speechless, to which he claps his hands together.

“alright, first up i’ll teach you about the register.”

training goes relatively smoothly, as smooth as it can go, with a few blips here and there. he teaches you the ins and outs of using the register, including all of the shortcuts he’s managed to create since working there.

he also goes over how to take inventory (something so tedious it quickly becomes your least favorite task), and of course what he likes to call “standard” customer service skills. though to you, the skills are a lot more than just the bare minimum.

taesan is impossible to ignore. he’s extremely kind to the customers, speaking lightheartedly to them as if it’s second nature. it’s obvious to you that he’s grown a reputation around the store, judging by how receptive customers both young and old are to him.

it’s kind of endearing to watch.

“you’re good at that,” you comment once rush hour ends. he shrugs, picking a piece of lint from off of his apron. “it gets easier when you get used to it.” you nod, continuing to wipe down the counter.

the sun has already begun to set by now, the moon illuminating brightly, casting dark shadows along the sidewalk. you look through the window, huffing at the sight. today goes by quicker than you expect.

if every work day is like today, you wouldn’t mind having a job at all. especially with eye candy like taesan.

“ah, almost forgot,” he says suddenly, weaving past you and toward the shelves. you watch him, confused, when he motions for you to follow him. “forgot what?”

“another shortcut.” he says matter-of-factly, leading you to the 3 layered carts filled with crates of what you assume to be merchandise.

“i was going to teach you tomorrow, but doing it like this makes it so much easier.”

“doing what like what?” you ask, bewildered.

“stocking, duh?” he says as he crouches down to lift a box of merchandise from the cart. you nod in understanding, grabbing a box of your own. but what you don’t realize is that convenience store snacks can be so heavy, and you nearly topple over at the mere weight of the box.

“what’s in this, bricks?” he chuckles at your expense, plopping the box he holds down to assist you with yours. you thank him, heading over to the aisle that corresponds with the box.

“it’s pretty self-explanatory, just make sure you arrange them neatly or the owner gets mad. doing it the night before makes your job so much easier.” he explains, crossing his arms, his body leaning against the shelf.

“i’ll help you today, but most days we split up the work.”

you nod, shooting him a thumbs up, turning to get to work. stocking is pretty easy, and it quickly becomes your favorite task. taesan is right about everything being relatively simple— all you have to do is find the correct spot and organize it in a neat way, something you enjoy doing anyway.

in fact, you enjoy it so much you secretly wish you could rearrange all the shelves, but you don’t get paid enough for that. everything goes smoothly until it’s time for you to reach the dreaded top shelf.

you click your tongue, turning to see if there’s a stool nearby, but there isn’t. so being the ever independent girl you are, you figure out a way to reach the top shelf—for the most part.

brilliantly, tossing the bowls of ramen on the shelf seems to be working perfectly. they even manage to align themselves correctly, something you chalk up to divine intervention. but as you near the front of the row of ramen, it gets more difficult.

you huff, shifting on your tippy toes, hands stretching as far as they can to slide the final bowl of buldak on the shelf, but you’re just short of it.

then, warmth.

the feeling of something—someone—coming up behind you makes your body grow slack, your weight shifting back to your heels as taesan’s hand grabs the cup from your hand, effortlessly sliding it into place.

you feel your breath catch in your throat, cheeks warming at the feeling of his body so close to yours, but the feeling only lasts a second. he dusts his hands off, placing them on his hips with a sigh.

“next time, ask for help.” he says simply, as if he hasn’t almost just given you a heart attack. you feel like a freak for reading into it, but how could you not? your oddly attractive new coworker just comes up behind you and helps you reach the top shelf.

it’s like something straight out of a drama. “whatever.” you stumble over your words, hiding your face as you quickly walk over to the backroom. taesan watches you, a perplexed look on his face, before shrugging.

–

for the next few weeks, you consistently go to work, and things run smoothly. customers start to warm up to you, the tasks become muscle memory, and the job isn’t too tiring, so you still have enough time to have a social life outside of it.

needless to say, getting this job is a blessing.

as for taesan, he’s still his usual polite self, but he’s sort of closed off, you notice. at first it kind of bothers you, but you chalk it up to him being an introvert. plus, it’s better this way.

who knows how fast you would fold if a friendship bloomed between the two of you.

but after a while of smooth sailing, taesan starts growing increasingly agitated at the unspoken awkwardness that seems to loom between the two of you. yeah, you’re friendly—sometimes even having small conversations here and there—but there’s still this odd feeling of tension. heavy, yet unserious at the same time.

it’s driving him insane.

so he does what any other logical person would do: he decides to confront you about it.

the first time taesan tries to bring it up, it doesn’t go too well. in truth, it just makes things even more awkward than they were.

“yn?” he calls for you one day while you’re busy restocking the shelves.

you pause, dusting off your apron and walking toward him.

“yeah?”

“is everything… okay between us?” and the way he says it—hesitant and soft—makes it so hard for you not to believe there’s a double meaning behind his words. makes it hard to believe he doesn’t mean something else by it. but as delusional as you are about your favorite band, you know the difference between fantasy and reality.

and this is reality. taesan doesn’t mean anything by it. “of course, why?” you chuckle to ease the awkwardness. he just scratches the back of his head, nodding before motioning for you to go back to work.

after that, you make sure to keep extra distance from him. whenever he’s talking to a customer, you hide on the opposite side of the store so he can’t pull you into the conversation.

during breaks, you insist on eating after him just so you won’t be alone with him in the breakroom.

but taesan isn’t stupid. he notices, and it bothers him. but he doesn’t know if he’s reading too much into it. maybe you have a reason, or maybe it really is just all in his head.

he won’t know for sure unless he tests it—so he does.

“yn, i need your help with the register!”

you quickly jog up to him, slipping behind the counter to assist.

“what’s up?”

he hums, tapping a few random buttons, hoping you won’t notice his blatant acting. “i keep getting stuck on this screen when i try to exit.”

you look up at him, confused, tapping a few buttons before the register returns to its original screen. “how do you not know this? you’ve been working here longer than me,” you tease, turning to head back to your task.

“wait,” he suddenly says, reaching a hand out to stop you. you glance down at his hovering hand before he quickly retracts it, motioning for you to come back.

“there’s this thing too,” he says, inching closer to where you stand in front of the register. and you, being you, notice this, and begin to scoot further and further away from him.

“what thing?” you accidentally stutter, forehead creasing in embarrassment. you hadn’t meant to show your nervousness, it just happens.

“this.” he taps a random button on the screen, attempting to lean in closer to you again. this time, you take a full step back, nervously giggling at your sudden closeness.

this time, there’s no mistaking it. you deliberately take a step away from him when he moves close to you, and he wants to know why. so he moves again. then you move again—away from him.

the two of you play this little dance until he has you backed against the wall, your hands raised in surrender. it doesn’t help that he refuses to break eye contact the entire time.

“what are you doing?” you ask, your voice coming out as a squeak.

he doesn’t say anything. his eyes continue to bore into your face, engraving every feature of yours into his memory.

then, finally: “why do you act so awkward around me?”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding when he steps back, arms crossing. you shrug, trying to wave him off, trying to pretend han taesan didn’t just have you cornered against the wall.

that you hadn’t just seen his gorgeously carved face up close—too close.

“i don’t. it’s just my personality.”

but taesan doesn’t buy it. instead, he scoffs, muttering something under his breath, still refusing to let it go.

“well if we’re going to be coworkers we need to be comfortable with each other. let’s spend our lunch break together.” he insists, leaving no room for refusal.

you sputter, blinking in confusion while he nudges you from behind the counter. “now get back to stocking.”

—

when lunchtime rolls around, your nerves are on ten. taesan closes the store, flipping the open sign to closed, leaving you absolutely no options for escape.

you know it’s ridiculous to be this nervous about sharing lunch with him, but it’s impossible not to be—especially when he looks like that, when he looks at you like that. like you’re the only person in the world.

you touch your finger to your lips, tracing them—a nervous habit you’ve picked up. taesan finally enters the backroom, two bowls of steaming ramen in hand as he sets one down in front of you.

“alright, let’s get to know each other.”

you snort at the way he says it, like it’s a mission that has to be completed. that earns you a slight smile from him, and in that moment, you wish you were a comedian just so you could see that radiant smile every day.

“ask me any question, i don’t bite,” he adds, picking up his chopsticks. you nod in thought, swirling the noodles in your bowl before mustering up the courage to speak.

“when did you start working here?”

“i started a year or two ago, in my first year of university,” he answers, taking a big bite of his ramen. you take one of your own, humming in understanding.

“university? how old are you, and what are you studying?”

“i’m twenty, and i’m studying music production.” you don’t miss the way his eyes seem to twinkle at the topic of music—it’s kind of cute.

“enough about me. what about you?”

you cover your mouth as you chew, freezing at the sudden question.

“me? what do you want to know?”

“everything you asked me.”

you hum, setting your bowl down. “i’m eighteen, i’m in my first year of university, and i’m studying math.”

he gasps, making a dramatic face of disgust. “math? who does that to themselves?”

you smile, rolling your eyes. “intelligent people.”

the two of you keep eating and chatting, and the more time you spend with him, the more you realize how much you enjoy just being around him. maybe avoiding him hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

“oh, i’ve been meaning to ask,” he says suddenly, just as the conversation begins to wind down. “is there any particular reason you got a job?”

you pause, a ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. you’ve got two options: lie and say it’s for tuition, or be honest. judging by the way he’s looking at you, option one sounds appealing—but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to lie.

“don’t laugh at me…” you start, hanging your head in shame.

he laughs before you even get the words out. “i won’t, i won’t.”

you exhale, shutting your eyes. “i’m saving up to fund my obsession with this boy band,” you finally admit.

taesan puffs his cheeks, a terrible attempt at holding in his laugh, but it bursts out all at once. “you only got a job for kpop?” he sputters between laughs, hunched over in his chair.

“that’s some serious dedication,” he teases, once he’s caught his breath and sips his water.

“see, this is why i didn’t want to tell you,” you whine, fiddling with the cap of your water bottle. he shrugs, clearly not serious.

“i’m just teasing you. what group is it?”

“it’s this band called boynextdoor,” you say, already pulling out your phone to show him a song. he hums, feigning interest. if he’s being honest, the idea of a kpop group you’re obsessed with doesn’t exactly excite him, but if pretending to care makes you happy—he’ll do it in a heartbeat.

he hums along as you scroll through photos of them littered across your pinterest board, explaining the lore of the group. “they sound alright,” he comments, trying to sound casual.

“alright? they’re more than alright! let me show you their newest album!”

–

for the next few weeks, you and taesan grow closer—a lot closer than you intended or imagined. spending lunch breaks together becomes part of your daily routine, and if you’re honest, you look forward to them every single day.

taesan also gets much more comfortable around you, which means the teasing starts. relentless teasing. he constantly pokes fun at how your cheeks puff up when you eat, how your voice goes an octave higher when talking to older customers, or how you have this oddly specific system for organizing shelves.

of course, you cherish this new bond between the two of you. but the more time you spend together, the more your crush grows. at first, it was just physical attraction—but now, after actually getting to know him, it’s worse. or better. depending on how you look at it.

he’s sweet. he’s thoughtful. and he’s stupidly talented. falling for him was inevitable, and honestly, you can’t even blame yourself. but you’re not going to act on it. that would just make things weird, so instead—you set boundaries.

invisible boundaries that taesan seems determined to ignore.

he’s surprisingly touchy. always resting his hand on your shoulder, hovering near your waist when he brushes past, placing his palm lightly on your lower back if you’re in his way.

he also makes weird comments sometimes—calls you cute, slips in random compliments like it’s nothing. it’s confusing. he’s confusing. and impossible to gauge. still, you brush off the moments, chalking them up to his personality. until today.

today was supposed to be a normal day. rush hour ended early, which meant the store was quiet. quiet enough for you to pull out your phone and fangirl over your favorite group, who just so happened to be performing live tonight. the timing was awful—their set landed during the last hour of your shift—but with no customers, you had more than enough time to indulge.

taesan’s off sweeping the floor, music blaring through his earbuds, completely unaware as you prop your phone up against the register and clap your hands like a kid on christmas. the live starts, and you’re already grinning at the comment section flooding in.

“yn, i finished—” he pauses, catching the pure joy on your face. he’s never seen you look this animated before. it’s… kinda cute.

“what are you doing?” he asks, eyes flicking to your phone.

“my favorite group performs tonight!” you practically squeal, looking up at him with genuine excitement.

he hums, sets the broom aside, and walks over, arms crossed as he leans in slightly to see your screen.

“that’s what’s got you this worked up?” he teases. normally, your heart would flutter at how close he’s standing, but you’re too focused on the angels on your screen to care.

taesan glances sideways at you, a weird twinge of irritation rising in his chest. he doesn’t get what’s so great about these guys. hell, you haven’t even looked at him since they came on.

then, it happens.

you squeal—loudly—as one of the members lifts his shirt to flash his abs. taesan squints at the screen, scoffing.

“did you see that? he just showed us his abs! oh my gosh, they’re glorious! if i could see that in person…” you gush, completely in your own world, rambling about how unreal it’d be to see them live.

taesan rolls his eyes. “they’re not that cool. anybody can have abs.”

“tch, not just anybody. look at you, for example.” you shoot back without missing a beat, eyes still locked on the performance.

he frowns—actually frowns—at how easily you dismiss him. he knows you’re joking, but something about your total lack of attention gets under his skin.

“oh yeah? you want to bet?” he says suddenly, leaning in even closer.

you wave him off, still replaying your favorite part of the performance. “yeah right—”

“how am i supposed to show you if you won’t even look at me?”

you scoff, finally turning to give him a piece of your mind—but stop cold when you see what’s in front of you.

taesan’s hands are gripping the hem of his shirt, lifting it just enough to reveal a sliver of his abs.

“what are you doing?! stop!” you squeak, immediately turning away, flustered out of your mind.

he laughs—really laughs—smoothing down his shirt like he didn’t just flash you.

“i’m taking fifteen,” you mumble, cheeks burning as you practically sprint to the backroom. you fan your face, glaring at the sound of his laughter echoing from the front.

you cannot believe he just did that.

but taesan? oh, he’s smug. leaning against the counter with a smile tugging at his lips, proud of himself for successfully pulling your attention off your beloved boy band—and back onto him.

–

later that night, your face is buried in your pillow, a poor attempt at self-suffocation. no matter how hard you try to erase the image from your mind, that moment with taesan plays over and over like a broken record.

he makes it so hard not to like him.

you scream into your pillow, fists pounding the mattress, when a notification sounds from your phone. confused, you reach over, mouth falling open at taesan’s name flashing on your screen.

taesan: what’s so great about boynextdoor anyway? anyone could do what they do you: are you seriously still on that? taesan: yes, you were going crazy over them you: yeah, bc they’re amazing. they can sing, dance, rap plus their beauty is hard to find taesan: not really you: yes really taesan: who’s cuter me or them? you: stop asking weird questions

(read 11:09 pm)

you sigh, dropping your phone back onto your pillow. the more you think about it, the more delusional you feel about the chance taesan might actually like you back.

come to think of it, he’s been acting weirder than usual lately—complimenting you more, always finding reasons to be close, even now asking questions about what you think of him.

of course you think taesan is cuter, but you’d never tell him that. that would just make everything awkward.

then, another notification.

this time, it’s a voice message from him. your breath catches as your finger hovers over the play button.

you press play—and immediately regret it.

it’s taesan singing, his voice steady and smooth, filled with emotion. of course, he chose a song from your favorite group.

and just as the message ends, you hear his voice—low, sleepy—

“goodnight yn.”

–

work is unbearable. things between you two are awkward, and it’s mostly your fault. you absolutely refuse to make eye contact with him, and when you can, you avoid him. taesan looks slightly confused by the sudden change in your attitude.

the two of you had made so much progress — only for it to unravel in exactly one day. he isn’t going to let that slide.

“yn,” he hums, as you pretend to be busy wiping down the counter.

“yn,” he says again, more urgently this time. you exhale and finally tear your eyes away from the counter to look at him.

“yes, taesan?”

“why are you being weird again?”

you wish you could slap him for asking such a stupid question, but you’ve learned by now that taesan is just naturally oblivious. any girl in your position would avoid him after the stunt he pulled yesterday.

it’s hard to believe he’s even asking.

taesan tilts his head, genuine confusion written across his face as he waits for an answer.

“are you serious?” you scoff lightly, turning back to resume wiping.

taesan huffs, annoyed, and inches closer. you freeze, hand still pressed against the damp cloth.

“is it because of yesterday?” his voice is teasing as he leans in again, and in that moment you briefly consider whether physical violence would be so bad. you step back, holding your hand out to create distance between you.

“you’re being weird…” you mutter, eyes darting everywhere but his.

taesan’s brows knit in frustration. he’s starting to feel bad — you look so uncomfortable, and that wasn’t his intention at all. he thought the feeling was mutual.

“i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable,” he says quietly, kicking at dust on the floor. you blink, looking up at him in surprise.

“no, no, i’m not uncomfortable, it’s just…” you trail off, searching for the words.

taesan gives you a moment, then grows impatient. he tilts his head again, leaning closer so you can see his face. your breath catches as you fight the urge to meet his eyes, but it’s no use.

“just…?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

that’s your breaking point.

taesan keeps doing things — the skinship, the voice messages, the random compliments. it’s driving you insane. not the actions themselves, but the fact that he does it so mindlessly.

taesan doesn’t actually like you. he’s just being himself, and that’s what bothers you. you thought it’d be okay at first — accepting his teasing — but it’s become unbearable. your feelings for him are unbearable.

you have to put an end to it.

but before you can speak, your tears say it for you. they pool in your eyes, and you blink furiously, trying to hold them back.

“oh, wait, yn, are you okay?” he suddenly steps back, concern written all over his face. you shake your head, sniffling as you wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“i’m fine, i just… just stop teasing me before i think you’re serious.” your voice cracks, your bottom lip trembling as you finally say the words you’ve been avoiding.

taesan’s eyes widen in shock as he watches you cry, unsure what to do. he isn’t good at moments like this — and making you cry was never his intention. what did you mean, you thought he wasn’t serious? he was serious.

“wait, i’m sorry if i’ve been confusing you but i am serious,” he stumbles over his words, eyes closing in frustration as he tries to find the right way to say it. but you don’t hear any of it — your shoulders only shake harder, tears spilling over.

you don’t even know why you’re crying. you’re not usually emotional, but now the waterworks won’t stop no matter what he says.

“it’s fine. i think i just need a minute.”

you sniffle again, turning toward the breakroom. but just then, taesan moves — finally finding the courage to act. to prove he’s serious about you, that he always has been.

his arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you into his chest. your eyes widen as your arms instinctively circle his wrists. he rests his neck in the crook of yours, breath warm and tickling your collarbone.

“i am serious about you, yn. i just tease you because i like you so much.” his voice is low and gentle, the scent of his cologne warm and comforting as he hugs you tighter.

then he pulls back, turning you gently to face him. his hands stay on your shoulders as he says:

“i like you, yn.”

his hands find their way to your cheeks, cupping them as he pulls you in for a brief peck on the corner of your lips. somehow, that small gesture was more intimate — more romantic — than a kiss on the lips could have ever been.

your tears fall again as you bury your face in his shirt, fist limply punching his shoulder.

“i like you too, stupid,” you say between sniffles.

taesan smiles, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“i know you do.”

you punch him again, earning a small laugh.

“don’t be so confusing next time.”

taesan just smiles, pressing his lips against the crown of your head.

“i promise.”

-

m.list

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Parenthood Edition:

Thinking it's so cute the way your little bundle of joy scrunches up, especially when she's laying on you and/or Simon.

Simon's irregular sleep schedule making him the perfect playmate for little Miss Riley when she's up and at 'em at night. You remember walking into the living room once and watching Simon just walk around, daughter bundled up in her baby blanket in his arms, cooing and gurgling at her Papa, them having their own conversation, and watching Simon fall in love all over again.

Being hypervigilant to the point that every noise the baby makes prompts you to wake up and panic. The baby whined, you sat straight up in bed, only to see Simon staring at you in concern and baby Riley sound asleep on his chest.

Conversely, thinking something is wrong because you haven't heard the baby cry, waking up in a panic yet again only to be met with Simon and the baby looking at you crazy.

Simon officially becoming a bed for you and baby Riley. It's not uncommon for her to lay on his chest while you're nestled at his side and his arm is around you.

Absolutely, positively loving to put the baby sling on Simon and watching your big beefy lover tote the baby around in it. Also, taking a picture and sending it to the boys. The big bad Ghost? In a baby sling???? Huh. Looks cute on him.

Parental guilt, especially on Simon's end with him being gone on deployments. He made damn sure to see his baby girl take her first steps because he missed it when she began to start fully crawling.

Baby girl being captivated by the scars on Simon's face. And his crooked nose. Loves to grab at his face and you're amused by the way he scrunches his nose when she does so. Apparently baby girl is, too.

You and Simon playing with the baby and next thing you know, you hear a wet fart. Simon chuckles out of amusement and to keep from dying inside because he just changed her nappy. You conveniently had to go walk the cat and made yourself scarce. Meanwhile, baby girl is giggling and gurgling up a storm.

When she gets older, little Miss Riley loves it when Simon carries her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. She'll run up to him and go, " 'tato, Daddy! 'tato!" and next thing you know, there's a giggling toddler slung over her dad's shoulder.

Baby girl drawing a picture of her parents at school and Simon's shoulders are bigger than... everything else on his body. Even his head. You're so tickled that you framed it.

Similarly, sneaking one of her drawings into Simon's bag so he'll see it when he's gone. He does and it's all the more reason for him to fight like hell to see you two again.

Having to limit the amount of sweets you buy because Princess Miss Riley has inherited her dad's sweet tooth. Doesn't stop them from sneaking out to go to their favorite bakery.

Baby girl being the best helper ever around the house, especially when she walks on Daddy's back to help alleviate the stiffness.

Because she likes to draw so much, Simon promised his daughter that she can design the next tattoo he gets. Well, it turns into an entire project and you and her proceed to draw butterflies and other cute designs on his other arm. True to his word, Simon gets another sleeve tattoo with those same drawings. Cheers, luvs.

Simon being in the doghouse with little Miss Riley because he was supposed to wake up with true love's first kiss because you and Simon were reenacting Sleeping Beauty for your daughter. Simon may or may not have taken it a bit too seriously and dozed off. Your baby girl is now upset because this means Sleeping Beauty will never wake up again and no amount of treats from daddy can change that. Princess Daddy status has officially been revoked, Simon. For now lmao.