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all-skedaddle-and-no-bop · 4 days ago

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Cuteness Aggression>>

Pairings : Blade , Jing Yuan , Dan heng , Caelus , Sunday Sampo , Aventurine x GN reader

Warnings : Pure Fluff , Mentions of kissing:3

| Synopsis — CUTENESS AGGRESSION = UNSTOPPABLE FORCE. CAUSE? Your boyfriend's existence.

Author's Note; Hello my little flowers:3 i hope you enjoy, wrote this at 3am so please do not mind any errors or misspellings!

[• Blade ]•

Poker Face, Kissable Everything.

— There wasn't anything important on your schedule to complete for the day, so you decided to take a small stroll to end the night with—successfully dragging your boyfriend alongside you as well.

Blade stands there, arms crossed over his chest, face emotionless—just doing absolutely nothing, except existing and breathing like a war criminal caught in a candid photo. The night sky was a splendid sight to see—the stars shined bright and the moon hummed a soft light from it's core, weakly but effectively highlighting the scenery. Blade was looking at the sky, lost in a trance—his crimson eyes flick lazily toward you, unimpressed. Then back to the sky. Probably annoyed. Maybe just blank. But, there was a soft edge to his piercing pupils when it landed on you, even if it was for a brief moment.

You visibly collapse. Because—to you? It was a threat. A menace. A weapon of mass CUTENESS.

Blade with his eternally grumpy, stone-cold assassin expression, posture straight and composed, eyes sharper than any sword. To others—he's a merciless hunter. To him—he's something born from the roots of vengeance and revenge. To you? Accessable drug to get high on cuteness overload.

You're gripping the article of fabric your wearing—like it's the only thing tethering you to sanity and not go insane. You turn to him—with all your might to stay neutral, but there was a slight crack in your voice, “...You need to stop looking like that,” you say, tone strangled. Blade merely turns his head to face you—he doesn’t even blink at your sentence. And he has the audacity—the sheer AUDACITY—to question you with that flat tone of his as, if you weren't mentally screaming to squish at his cheeks (pun intended.) “Like what?”

You almost ascend at the way he raises his eyebrow slightly—oh how you wanted to smother his face in kisses will be something not even the aeons would want to question. “Like that! All stoic and deadly and—ugh, that little frown! Do you know what that does to me?” Blade tilts his head to the side—internally questioning what's going on. You take a deep breath,“Blade, I am experiencing...” you pause, “Cuteness aggression and it's critical. I want to bite you. Do you understand?” you fully turn to him, hands itching at your sides. Your words had this unhinged desperation tinged with it—but they were real. Like.. very real.

Silence follows after your statement. But you continue, on what might possibly be what'll happen to Blade in a few minutes prior to the future.

“I want to squish your face and kiss it. Repeatedly. Until you crack.” Blade blinks. Once. Twice. As if he was questioning you or himself, “You’re ridiculous,” he mutters, and turns to walk away. However, you're not gonna let him off that easily—not after he turns on his heel, did you SEE the way his hair just flips around and goes back it it's place like a dis(knee)ney animation? Oh you definitely weren't letting him out of your grip, forever.

You tackle him like a koala in heat. Blade was caught off guard by the sudden hug attack and, spinned around to catch you into his arms on instinct—letting out a soft grunt of surprise as, you pepper his cheeks with rapid-fire kisses while, you stand on your tiptoes. You kiss every inch of his face—nose, eyes, cheeks, jawline, the corner of his lips and literally anywhere you had access to. “S’what you get! You weaponized your face and I retaliated!!” You cupped his face in your hands, squeezing his cheeks like they were your lifeline—you coo, kiss and squeeze him like he was your favourite plushie. He sighs. Deep. Patient. Loathsome. “Are you done?” One of his eyes closes when you kiss his eyelid, huffing in something that was mixed with soft embarrassment. “No. Never. I have to kiss both eyelids and boop your nose now. It’s a matter of national security.” You press your palms against his cheeks, squishing them until his lips puff out into the cutest pout you have ever seen in your life—and before he can protest, you kiss them. Instantly. No hesitation. It’s a tactical strike.

Blade freezes. Stared at you wide-eyed for a solid second. And then, he softly murmur against your lips,“...You’re the most unhinged person I’ve ever met.” There wasn't anything to his words—just soft, silent adoration. Despite his protests—his hands are holding you steady against him. And his cheeks are warm.

Maybe, just maybe—the corner of his lips curl upwards when you continue on with your affectionate assault on his face.

[• Jing yuan ]•

Do Not Yawn Near Me. (You Will Be Kissed)

— The day has ended and, nighttime has arrived. The whole day was exhausting to say the least, but it was the usual routine for you so—it wasn't much. The wind outside was hushed with the gentle whispers of the nightlife starting to stir awake. On the soft cotton bed, you were laying on your back, listening to one of Jing Yuan's bedtime rambles. He was on his side, facing you, his elbow propped up to keep his head from falling—your eyes were set on him, no matter how many his head was slightly not balanced properly. Jing Yuan already has that warm, languid energy that just radiates “I nap like it’s a divine right”, and today, he was quite tired. And that's when his voice drops lower and rougher, and his eyes go half-lid. Yet he still went on, fighting the sleepy allegations as best as he could—because he needs to spill the tea instead of focusing on his beauty sleep.

You were trying to be normal. Trying so hard. Jing Yuan’s voice lulled on about something—probably the latest strategy meeting or, how Yanqing accidentally cut his own sleeve again during training—but he suddenly paused. He had the audacity. The nerve. The audible crime.

He yawned.

It was SPECIFICALLY that one lazy little yawn, that stretches his entire body like a spoiled cat in the sun. Head tilting back just a little, arm lazily covering his mouth, hair tousling in that gorgeous effortless mess of fluffy locks—and worst of all, his eyes fluttered shut with that soft, contented hum at the end. He's acting as if the last string of resistance in you hadn't just snapped—loudly.

You were staring. Wide-eyed. Palms sweating at your sides. Soul screaming. Sanity vanishing.

Jing yuan slowly blinked—his eyelashes fluttering as he notices your staring,“...You okay?” he asked, voice low and gravelly from sleepiness, blinking slowly at you like some mythical beast in a sunbeam. You gulped. Suddenly—you springed up from your laying position, making him confused. You turn to face him like he ate the last piece of cake. “You can't do that!” you exploded, pointing a finger at him. His brows furrowed. “Do what?..” You tremble when he frowned slightly—he looked like a tiny floofball of a kitten who was denied treats before bed and god—that fueled your cuteness aggression even more. “Yawn like that! Stretch like that! Exist like that in front of me when I’m trying to be a civilized, functioning person.” You breathe in. Deeply and rushed. “Jing Yuan, I am THIS close to tackling you down and kissing your entire face.”

He chuckled—warm and rumbling. “This close, huh?”

Before he could blink again, you lunged at him—aggressively cupping his face like a hostage negotiator. His eyes were wide and he's blinking at you like you dropkicked a kitten in front of him. “I warned you.”

And with that—came the kisses. Endless. Wild. Forehead, nose, cheek, chin. His sleepy protest— “Wait, I'm still tired—” was muffled by your ambush and, drowned in your love. His airy laughter shook through you, but he didn’t push you away. He never did. If anything, he pulled you closer, arms wrapping around you lazily like he was claiming a particularly cuddly pillow.

“Mm... now I’m twice as tired,” he mumbled against your hair. Your hands shoot up and grabs his chin—causing his lips to puff out with a tiny pout that you swear, made you go even more feral. “Too bad. You’re not getting a single minute of peace now. You yawned, and I lost the ability to control myself. That’s on you.”

Jing yuan smiled lopsidedly—accepting the fact he's now a victim to your endless affection, and needlessly to say. He's definitely proud of the love you shower him with.

[• Dan Heng ]•

Do Not Disturb. (Except Please Do)

— Dan Heng doesn’t notice it at first. He’s seated at his desk, some ancient text spread open before him—showing all sorts of forbidden knowledge to unravel right before his eyes. The golden edge of a bookmark glinting beneath the soft lamplight. His posture is perfect, composed as always—back straight, shoulders relaxed. He turns a page slowly, eyes scanning, calm and attentive. Completely oblivious to your presence that was in the doorway—he continues to swim through crisp pages of age and intellect.

To him, it’s a normal evening study. To you?

It’s a goddamn spiritual crisis.

You’re staring at him from the doorway like you’ve just been struck by lightning and thrown off a mountain. You only happen to pass by—but you paused when you noticed how absolutely attractive he looked. That little crease between his brows. The light reflecting off his long lashes, casting a god complex shadow underneath them. Lips pressed together in a line, that sharp jawline on full display while he’s reading. That faint, unreadable expression he always wears when he’s deep in thought—why does he look so kissable without even trying the least bit?! Your fingers twitch. Like your body is warning you to act fast. You almost feel your legs walk on instinct.

You shift. Nervously. And gulp down. Silently

But the last sense of literally everything in you dispatched when—he tilts his head to the side, his tiny strands of inky black hair falling onto his face as he scribbles something down on his notepad—lost in thought, all while having that serious, focused face that made your knees go weak.

You explode. “—Dan Heng,” the calling of his name diverts his focus to your voice. He doesn't lift his head, he only hums in response, “I’m so sorry but I can’t take it anymore,” You say, already walking to him. He glances up in time to see you power-walk across the room like your possessed—by overdose of cuteness, might l add.

“What—”

It's too late now. You’re on him. Straddling his lap. Hands gently cupping his face as you proceed to pepper kisses all over. His cheeks, his jaw, that little spot under his ear, the corner of his mouth—every. where. He blinks, stunned. “What are you doing?” he pulls away from you momentarily—face flushed with a light pink. His hand resting on the curve of your hip to keep you from falling.

"You activated my cuteness aggression. You looked too hot while reading. I had to smooch you. ” You giggle, and Dan heng looks clueless with your given answer, “ It's like a condition or something. I don't make the rules.” You shrug nonchalantly—leaning over to him and press a soft kiss between his eyebrows, while he stares at you. Utterly dumbfounded. Like a lost puppy.

Dan Heng's hand reaches the book—and closes it with a quiet sigh.

He’s still blushing though.

"Next time, try giving me some warning." He scrunches his nose up when you kiss the tip of it, the feeling of your lips on the tip of his nose made his lower abdomen pool with warmth. You don't know whether he's giving you these adorable reactions on purpose or, just completely clueless that it's only adding fuel to your overload of cuteness. "Impossible. It’s a primal urge." You cup his face in your hands, nuzzling your nose against his. He sighs,”...Of course it is.”

[• Caelus ]•

You Make My Brain Go Bzzt (Please Let Me Kiss You)

— Caelus—being the usual Caelus. Is currently munching on trail mix, sitting upside down on the couch, wearing two different socks, hair defying gravity like he’s been static-shocked by the universe itself while he munches away. He's just peacefully vibing with his existence and free will. Nothing special or unusual.

Meanwhile, you on the other hand—was watching him from the living room doorway like a predator locked onto its prey. Eyes wide. Breathing shallow. Hands twitching. You swore you were normal—but Caelus said no and, is being extra cute today for absolutely no reason (he doesn't even know it.) You at some point wondered on how you even managed to pull the Trailblazer in the first place—because, no doubt. Caelus is literally the human version of a golden retriever in space boots and loose screws, and the cutest little chaos gremlin ever that loves to go through trashcans. And you aren't going to complain.

Caelus's eyes briefly flicker over to you—he pauses mid-munch. He blinks up at you (or technically down at you, because gravity doesn’t matter when he’s upside down). “Hey, babe! Did you know that your brain is constantly eating itself? Pretty cool right?” You're too used to him randomly spitting out weird facts. But right now..you aren't focused on his words.

You say nothing.

He grins. One of those big, lopsided ones, all sunshine and brain fog—just enough for even passing by people to be concerned. “You good?”

You are, in fact, not good. You are dangerously close to exploding into an affection shrapnel. And that last sense of sanity is hanging on one single thread. You tilt your head to the side with a smile, eyes closed, eyebrows relaxed, “Did you know I'm one millisecond from kissing you until, you stop being such a menace to my cardiovascular system?” You can practically hear the gears in Caelus's head malfunction for a minute. He turns to you, with the most adorable perplexed look you have ever seen,

“Huh?—”

He doesn't even have time to react when you speed walk yourself to him. He’s still mid-chew when you sit down onto the carpet and squish his face in your hands. Without wasting a second—you smother his stupidly adorable face in kisses—cheek, forehead, nose, chin, corner of his lips, the little spot behind his ear that makes him squeak like a malfunctioning microwave. Between your assault of overload of affection, he protests, “Ack! Wait! You’re—you're interrupting snack time!” You didn't even wait for your brain to construct an answer. While you kiss him, you very passively aggressively tell one word during each kiss, “You’re *kiss* interrupting *kiss* my *very aggressive kiss* life Caelus! ” His brows furrowed into confusion as he has no escape way out of your love—his eyes squeeze shut when you kiss the tip of his nose,” With your STUPIDLY CHARMING FACE AND BRAINLESS WISDOM!” You huff out a breath—leaning away to see his red face.

“You think I’m charming?” He gasps, delighted. “That’s the nicest insult I’ve ever received!” Yep, he's gonna be trapped with your furious kisses for the rest of the day..or week. You're already kissing the dimples off him again. "Shut up and accept my love before I start sobbing into your hair."

Caelus chuckles like a child—it almost made your heart dance in circles like a lovesick anime character for how cute it sounded. “Okay, but just so you know—I haven't washed it in, like, four days.” You pause—for a moment only. You kiss one of his eyelids, “Perfect. Extra seasoning.”

Caelus just laughs—pure and raw form his heart. He tips his head into your shoulder like you're the gravity holding his entire orbit together. And to be honest—you are.

[• Sunday ]•

Winged Menace to My Sanity.

— Sunday tilts his head slightly as the afternoon light filters through the glass, casting kaleidoscope hues across the bedroom—blues, pinks, violets dancing on the walls from the delicate prism of his wings, the light hits him at the most perfect angle you could ever imagine of. His wings—give a lazy flutter, like a sigh made visible. Like a butterfly in human form.

You stare. Blink. The book in your hand suddenly was not that interesting anymore to you. Your hands grasp a nearby pillow like it’s a weapon.

Sunday is just standing there with his pretty, sparkly eyes, shimmering wings twitching slightly, all elegant, divine and unbothered. Just quietly existing like the eternal being he is. But you? You’re on the verge of a breakdown. A mental crisis.

This is illegal levels of pretty. Because why is he allowed to exist in 4K with his fluttering wings, delicate smirk and those dreamy eyes???

Immediately you throw the pillow to the side, like it offended your bloodline.

“Stop that,” you say—warn, absolutely breathless. He glances at you, eyes shimmering with innocent amusement. “Stop what, my dear?” you point a finger to him, accusingly, “Existing like that! With those—those wings!” You gesture violently. “You fluttered them. They sparkle. That’s cheating.”

He pouts—slightly. The kind that could make flowers bloom in winter. “Oh? But I was merely stretching.”

You gasp. Loud. Dramatic. Like you saw him say the most horrendous thing ever in humanity, “That was not stretching. That was SEDUCTION. Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?” You tilt your head to the side, to add more depth (exaggeration) to your words, “I feel like I’m on a sugar high and I’m gonna pass out.” He raises a brow. Thinking for a small moment, his eyes flick down while his brows knit together in concentration—god, he looked like a tiny kitten getting lectures for eating the entire catnip. His eyes look up again, completely oblivious at what he's doing to you with just breathing, “Would it help if I folded them?”

“It would help if you braced for IMPACT.”

You launch yourself into his arms, a tiny yelp of surprises emits from him as his arms take you into his soothing embrace—your own arms wrap around his neck, hands greedily roaming his soft hair and jaw as you absolutely drown his entire face in kisses and utter love. “You’re too pretty. It’s a crime. I'm pressing charges—with my lips.” You kiss the side of his cheek, softly but possessively. Sunday laughs—a soft, lilting sound, like wind chimes in a warm breeze. “Darling, you’re out of control.” Says the one who's heartbeat is going at a critical rate due to the ambush of love attacks from you.

“And whose fault is that?” You plant one last dramatic kiss right between his brows, and his wings flutter again—whether from pleasure or surprise, you don’t know. But one thing's for sure—it hyped you up to absolutely mark his faces in your kisses. But you melt all the same. “I'll take accountability for it then.” despite the fact he's suffocated from the number of kisses your pressing into his face—he cannot help but barely hide a soft, teasing smile. It was heavenly sinful.

[• Sampo ]•

Smirk Me One More Time.

— Sampo leans casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his grin a full-blown menace to society. Hair tousled just right, earring glinting in the soft light above, that stupid tiny cape behind him dramatically fluttering even though there’s no wind in this room. His eyelashes flutter for a second, the corner of his eyes crinkling upwards, “Missed me already?” he asks, voice syrupy, smug, and deeply punchable. His signature smirk plastered onto his lips like he's testing you.

You narrow your eyes at him from the sofa.

No.

No, no, no.

You refuse to fall for it again. Not this time. Not after the last incident where you tried to keep it cool but, ended up kissing him into the couch cushions for thirty straight minutes without no breaks.

But we are talking about Sampo here. Sampo Koski. Famous and infamous for his insufferably smug, “I-just-got-away-with-a-crime-and-I’ll-do-it-again” grin? That twinkle in his eye that screams “I know I’m hot and I’m also probably lying to you right now”? It's the 8th wonder of the world on how you can stay completely composed with such a hot menace like him.

You clutch the book in your hands, the restraint in your body threatening to leave you any second. You gulp, your fingers digging into the cover of the book—like it's the reason for your sanity to be still standing with you right now. Your eyes briefly flicker over to him when you hear him softly chuckle, amused at how you're not giving in yet.

But then he tilts his head. Lets that grin spread across his face like wine spilled on a white carpet. And has the nerve. The damn crime. To wink.

Yep, you can't take it anymore. Your book is kept aside and you launch yourself to him—Sampo flinches when he catches you, “Woah—” You didn't let him to speak any further or else there will definitely be consequences—consequences that revolve around a kiss rampage and endless affection. You grab his face like he’s the last snack on Earth, squishing his cheeks together so hard his lips pop out like a kissy fish. It’s so stupidly cute, you immediately slam a kiss onto them with zero remorse. He blinks at you like you’ve committed a crime, and maybe you have. But it was worth it. You kiss and destroy his face with your love. For him, it's a trophy. For you, it's unconditional love.

Your hands are tangled in his coat. He’s laughing breathlessly between each kiss, trying to talk but getting no mercy. “H-Hey, wow—! Someone’s got the aggression bug today—mmph—!” You pull back only to squish his cheeks in your hands, face burning, eyes wild, breath stuttering,“You need to stop smiling like that. It’s a hazard. I’m filing a formal complaint. To HR. To the IPC. To god.” You huff out.

He just snorts, already leaning back in like a moth attracted to a flame. “Or you could just give in. Again. Y’know, for public safety~?” his voice was teasingly quiet, like he's trying to lure you into his trance of attraction.

You freeze. And he knows what he's done.

You tackle him to the sofa with even more fuel to utterly ruin his face with your lips.

Needless to say. He doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

[• Aventurine]•

You Smirk, I Suffer.

— Aventurine is lounging—no, lounging like some decadent villain in a luxury casino suite, one leg crossed over the other, suit crisp and immaculate, fingers spinning a chip between them with maddening ease, his sunglasses kept onto the bridge of his nose. His smirk is surgical—precise, devastating, and permanent.

He knows he's winning whatever game this is, that he dragged you in. Chess? Poker? Life? He probably invented half the rules just to watch you struggle helplessly with the choices in your mind. Aventurine watches you ponder on a decision for like 10 minutes straight, he says—smugly, “Well well, darling, seems like luck’s on my side again~” He chuckles, rich and gutteral, it was the kind of sound that could pay an entire city's bills.

He leans into the cushion of the velvet sofa behind him, arms spread out like he's inviting you to just ditch the game and come into his arms instead.

You visibly snap. “Shut up.”

He quirks an eyebrow, smirk widening. “Hmm? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

No. No, this is too much. You tremble slightly, internally fighting with your urges to give in or stay neutral. But, that little tilt of his head, that knowing glint in his eyes, the way he acts like he owns the galaxy and also the rights to your emotional stability? Nope, the restraint in you is now thrown out the window.

You stand up, earning a hum from him. Not even a second is spared as you lunge over the table.

He doesn’t even have time to react—you grab his stupidly handsome face and attack. Not violently. Affectionately. Desperately. Cuteness-aggression-ly.

Your hands cradle his face like he's something fragile, thumbs pressing in until his cheeks squish together, making his lips puff out adorably. His sunglasses on the verge of falling down as they are tilted to the side. You can’t help it—you lean in and kiss them right then and there, heart fluttering at how soft he feels. He blinks, but you didn't give him any mercy. “*Kiss.* *Kiss.* *Kiss.* *KISS.* This is what you get, you smug bastard—” You kiss both of his baby soft cheeks. The tip of his nose. The corner of his mouth. His forehead. His jawline. That perfect smirk disappears for like 0.2 seconds, replaced with a stunned blink. You lean away, still breathless from the aftermath of your violent affection. The sunglasses has already fallen off his face.

“...Darling,” he says slowly, the smirk crawling back, “If you wanted to kiss me breathless, you could’ve just said so.” You hiss, annoyed full of love and affection. “SHUT UP! I am filled with violent love and you’re making it WORSE.” You pull one of his cheeks like a grandma to her grandchild. He grins wolfishly wider. “Good. Makes it more fun when I provoke you.” his hand find it's way onto your hip, holding you steady to him.

You grab a pillow next to him. And he gets a face full of plush vengeance. The chip he was twirling earlier in his free hand clatters to the floor.

A laugh erupts from him. His face filled with raw happiness. Something he'll only experience when he's with you. His anchor to life.

#RAHHH I LOVE THEM #thank you op for perfectly capturing how i feel about these men #(very normal)#i was giggling the whole time i read this #hsr #blade x reader #aventurine x reader #jing yuan x reader #sampo x reader #sunday x reader #dan heng x reader #caelus x reader

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