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seelestia · 4 months

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✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).

⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )

#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }

#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.

#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡

★ 〜 masterlist.

will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.

you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.

and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?

(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)

but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.

(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.

time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?

time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

ticklish.

the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.

there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.

“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.

there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.

“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.

“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”

his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.

you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!

every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.

“mwah, mwah, mwah—”

“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”

(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)

will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.

(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)

the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.

if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.

(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)

veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.

mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”

at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.

looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?

✧ a moment among the stars:

“...yet another headache.”

as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.

you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.

a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.

(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)

veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”

oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.

you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.

“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.

“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.

(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)

“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.

“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”

“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”

(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)

“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”

“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.

“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.

(your heart skips a beat.)

will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.

how mysterious.

but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?

your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.

pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.

(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)

the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.

fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.

(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)

if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.

as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?

(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”

sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.

“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”

you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.

he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”

or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.

(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)

“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”

“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.

most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.

“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”

you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?

(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)

will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?

after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?

but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.

(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)

dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”

(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)

sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.

(it remains persistently.)

when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.

when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.

(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.

but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”

you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”

he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.

“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.

“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.

“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.

dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.

“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.

(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)

“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”

“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.

“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.

(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #sunday x reader #sunday x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #hsr fluff #hsr headcanons #hsr imagines #seelestial.inks

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yieldtotemptation · 2 months

Text

BLUEBERRIES ft. Chaewon

chaewon x male reader smut

9k words

"SURPRISE ATTACK!"

—is the last thing you hear before your entire world tilts sideways, the weight of your girlfriend crashing into you, sending you toppling over the arm of your chair and onto the thankfully plush carpet.

And just like that, Kim Chaewon has arrived—shattering the quiet of your apartment with the sound of her giggles and the thud of your bodies.

To her credit, she gracefully lands on top of you—legs straddling your torso, hands pressing down on your chest—pinning you to the floor, and she's grinning—all doe-eyes and mischief, her hair fanned out around her like a strawberry-blonde halo.

"Do you surrender, baby?"

You could pretend to put up a fight—push back a little, buck your hips, take her by the waist—get a little rough. But why would you? Especially when losing meant having Chaewon on top of you.

So, like always, you decide it's best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants and you play along: enjoying the creamy thighs squeezing your sides, that collarbone peeking out of your stolen sweatshirt, those impossibly large eyes looking down at you as she makes herself comfortable—and you respond with a rather theatrical groan, "I surrender, Chae."

"Nuh uh," she corrects you, her voice dropping down a comically low octave. "It's Chaewon-rys Targar-something, Queen of Apartment 19-4, Ruler of..."

"My fridge?" You offer.

"Very funny,” Chaewon replies, bemused.

It's been weeks without this—without her—and you've barely survived. Chaewon's schedule is a merciless beast, devouring every second of her time. But here she is, now, with you—on top of you—back in your life and picking up from exactly where she left off.

“But,” she continues, “seeing as you're in the mood for jokes how about… ThisI" Chaewon turns cruel, unveiling her most brutal method of torture—tickling. She catches you off guard, shifting her weight, her hands abandoning your chest and flying to your sides, her light fingers dancing over your ribs, her nails lightly digging in just enough to make you squirm.

"Wait-wait-wait!" You try to twist your way free, but she's got you good, her fingers now inching closer to your armpits, towards your most vulnerable spots. "Mercy!" you yell, but she's just getting started— “Mercy!”

"No mercy!" She's relishing this far, far too much, all giggles and grins, delighted at your pathetic efforts to struggle out from her grasp and escape her vicious assault. Your laughter comes out in uncontrollable bursts, as you desperately try to cover your sides to protect yourself from her onslaught.

"Ok-ok-ok-I give up! You win— you win—I give up!" You cry out, your laughter morphing into wheezes as Chaewon's relentless tickling at last, mercifully subsides.

"Aha! Round 129 goes to Kim-Chae-Won!" Chaewon turns and bows to an imaginary audience, mimicking a faraway crowd chanting her name "Kim-Chae-Won! Kim-Chae-Won!"

"I have once again been defeated," you feign a dramatic sigh, drawing an even harder laugh from Chaewon as you roll your eyes to the back your head and let your tongue loll out of your mouth.

Your apparent death does little to faze Chaewon, who takes this as an opportunity to plop down on your stomach, pressing her full weight down on your chest. She props her elbows on either side of your shoulders, her chin resting on her interlocked hands. “I guess it’s time to claim my prize.”

Chaewon slides her hands upwards, her fingertips walking up your arms towards your wrists, squeezing them lightly and pulling them over your head, holding them firm against the ground.

When your eyes finally refocus, she’s hovering over you, her button nose brushing against yours, and her lips—bright pink and slightly parted—just millimeters away from your own.

You're trapped under her, but you hardly mind—she's so warm, so soft, so natural—crime would skyrocket if this was considered a form of punishment.

"Let this be a lesson," she's whispering now, very much satisfied, so close that waves of her strawberry-blonde hair spill down on either side of your face. Strands tickle your nose with the scent of her shampoo, a floral bouquet that you've come to associate with lazy Sundays and the promise of warm breakfasts in bed. "I. Always. End. On. Top."

She finishes her victory speech by stealing a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.

That simple kiss has your mind wandering, entertaining the thought of flipping the script—of surprising her, overpowering her and turning the tables.

You could grab her, kiss her long and hard—get rid of that ludicrously oversized sweatshirt and tear off those dangerously short sweatpants. Part those lithe, never-ending legs, feel the warmth of her bare skin against yours, mark your territory on her perfect, toned thighs and each individual abdominal muscle.

But the way she's looking at you, her cheeks flushed from the exertion, her eyes sparkling with playful triumph, she's so adorable that the thought of manhandling her right now seems almost...sacrilegious.

And, let's face it, it's seeing this side of her that you love—the Chaewon that's free from the glitz and glamour of the stage, the choreography, the smiles that are painted on for the cameras. The Chaewon that is not wearing the mask of someone enjoying herself, that is actually, genuinely having a good time.

Here, in your apartment, with the curtains drawn and the outside world blocked out, she's just yours—Kim Chaewon, your girlfriend. The one who laughs at your terrible dad jokes and makes fun of your outdated sense of style, the one who can tell whether you've had a good day or not just by how heavy your feet are when you walk through the front door, the one who knows all the perfect ways to make you relax after a tough day at—

Fuck.

Work.

The word sneaks into your mind like a ninja in the night—silent, swift, and really fucking inconvenient.

Fucking work.

A bullshit spreadsheet you're supposed to be updating and a deck that needs to be finished by tomorrow morning, even though you know it won't be looked at for another month.

You don't have to say anything, Chaewon's already reading the frown lines on your face. "Oh—no-no-no. That's your—'fun time is over I have work to do'—face. I hate that face."

"There's these slides..." you know you’re fighting a losing battle, your voice trailing off as you try to hold onto the last remnants of what was once a very pleasant afternoon.

"No way—not happening," Chaewon insists, emphasising her point with a firm squeeze of your wrists. "I only just came back from Japan, and it’s been weeks. There is no way you're going to ditch the beautiful love of your life for that laptop. I'm literally on top of you right now!"

"Come on, Chae, I was almost done when you came in—"

"—when I defeated you in combat and forced you to surrender— "

"At least let me do a quick review then I swear I'm all yours," you negotiate, trying to maintain eye contact with her but failing as your gaze falls to the laptop atop your desk, the open tabs taunting you. "Five minutes, tops."

"Nope, not moving, not going anywhere, you're just going to have stay under me like this forever." Chaewon's being petulant now—this is more your fault than anything, you've been spoiling her like a princess—and while she is acting like a brat, it's a brat of your own creation.

"Chae—come on—let me up, please."

"If I let you up, you'll get into one of your 'zones' and then it'll be hours before you’re done and you’ll completely ignore me," Chaewon pouts, her nose scrunching up in a way that's both endearing and exasperating. "And I've missed you too much for that."

"I promise I won't—”

Chaewon rolls her eyes at that.

“I'm serious—just let me up."

"Oh, you're serious now, how scary."

"Five minutes, Chae—"

“Bullshit.”

“Come on, let me up.”

"Or what, what are you going to—wait—what the—wait!"

It doesn't take much effort at all—face it, she's at best a hundred pounds soaking wet—but you're already on your feet, wrists free of her dainty fingers, holding her up with just one arm and a single hand palming an ample ass cheek.

You catch your breath as you stand, and she’s still reeling as the sudden balance shifts. She’s forced to cling to you, wrapping those long, toned legs around your waist, and looping her arms around your neck, her hands grasping at the back of your head as if she's afraid you're going to drop her.

"H-how the—how did you—I had you pinned!" Chaewon squeaks out, pure disbelief colouring her voice as she clings onto you.

You leave her to work through the logic on her own, returning to your desk, righting your fallen chair, all the while still holding Chaewon like a prize you've just won at an arcade.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Chaewon protests, but it's too late. You've already set her down on your desk, the laptop between the two of you like a barricade. She tries to keep her limbs wrapped around you, legs around your waist—do anything she can to stop you—but you gently, quite easily, peel her off—earning another scowl from your girlfriend.

You can feel Chaewon's eyes boring into you as you sit down at your desk, her legs swinging back and forth from the edge of the desk in frustration. The work itself doesn't take long—you were being honest—just a minor grammar check here, fixing some formatting there and—

"What was that? How did you just—”

It's the first time you've ever seen Kim Chaewon—usually so composed and untouchable on stage—so completely, utterly flustered.

"I don't get it. I mean did you just get this strong?" Chaewon's voice is small, barely heard over the sound of your keystrokes—trying to process what just happened. She's shifted on the desk, leaning back now on her palms, looking at you like you're a puzzle piece that doesn't fit anywhere at all. "Or have you always been—you were just—were you letting me win? Hey—why are you laughing?"

You hit a final 'enter', saving your work with a performative flair, and spin the chair around to face Chaewon so you can give her your full, undivided attention.

But she's not looking at you—no, she's still trying to make sense of it, her gaze flitting from the chair, to the floor, to the laptop, to your hands that are now folded neatly in your lap. You're expecting a comeback, something witty and biting, something that'll make you laugh, but she's just sitting there—pouting. Adorably so.

"Chae, come on."

"What?" She snaps out of her daze, the hardware in her head overclocking. "I just—I exercise way more than you—I run, I dance everyday, I go to the gym, I do pilates—you can't be that much stronger than me."

"I'm like twice your size, Chae." You chuckle, reaching for the water bottle on your desk and taking a well-earned swig. "And I do manage to sneak in some workouts when you're not around to tickle me to death."

"But... this whole time?" Chaewon asks, there’s an accusation in her voice as she crosses her arms over her chest, inadvertently distracting you with the way it makes her sweatshirt pull tightly across her breasts. It's too fucking cute, and you can't help but lean in for a kiss, but she turns her head away at the last second. "Every time, you've been taking it easy on me? Kiddie gloves?"

You sigh. "More or less."

"Why?"

"I guess I thought you knew," you say with a sheepish smile, "but even then, I didn't want to spoil the fun for you." You take another sip of water, watching her carefully. "You're so competitive, Chae. And when we’re playing like this and you win, you're so... happy. I just like seeing that."

"But that's..." Chaewon stammers. "Even when we're... You know... You're so... Gentle with me."

"Of course, I never want to—I'm just afraid that—"

"Afraid of what? That you'll break me? Okay, Bruce Banner." Chaewon teases, seemingly having made some decision in her own mind, as she hops off the desk to face you. "So, you've been holding back? You really think you’re that much stronger than me?”

You give her a very cautious shrug.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"If you’re really as strong as you think. Show me. Here—take my wrists—" Chaewon says, holding them out to you, "—and I bet I'll still be able to break free like I always do."

“I’m not sure if this is such a good idea,” you say, setting your bottle aside and standing up to face her.

“Why? Chicken?” She answers, and you try not to facepalm, reminding yourself that it is easier to just give her what she wants—most of the time, anyway.

"Alright, if that's what you want," you reply, gently placing your hands on her shoulders and guiding her so her back is flat against the nearest wall. She's staring up at you the whole time, watching you intensely as you take both her wrists in one hand, holding it against the wall and above her head.

"Really, only one hand? This will be real easy to get out of—" Chaewon starts to taunt, but she never gets to finish her sentence, because your grip tightens around her wrists and she feels the full weight of your body pressing into hers. She tries to pull away, expecting the same give she's felt countless times before, but your hand is like a vice—firm and unyielding—and it dawns on her that she's not going anywhere.

Her eyes widen slightly, and she tries to hide her surprise—because she's still in the game, still playing along. She tries to push off from the wall with her legs, but you anticipate it, placing a hand on her waist and keeping her in place.

Even you're surprised at how little effort it is to keep her still—a small push here, a slight change in weight there—Chaewon is at your mercy and it feels... different.

"Wait—I can't—" Chaewon still hasn’t given up, squirming and wiggling, doing little to help her escape but a lot to make you want to keep her against you.

She's trapped, every move she makes only making it worse for her—better for you—moulding her body closer into yours, aligning the softness of her curves with the hard lines of your chest.

But still, she struggles, tries every way she can think of to break free—twisting, turning, pushing with her legs, even trying to bite you at one point—but her best efforts only make you chuckle, and press her harder into the wall, press yourself harder into her.

You can feel her heart racing beneath her sweatshirt, and there's something there—you both feel it—a sudden tension in her helplessness, a thrill in your newfound power over her. "Damn it—this is so—argh!"

Chaewon’s eyes meet yours, and there’s your confirmation—that spark of something new, something unspoken. It's not anger or fear—no, she's never looked at you with fear—it's something else entirely. It's excitement, curiosity, a hint of arousal.

And so, you lean in, closing the last gap between you, and kiss her—right there against the wall.

It's not the gentle peck she's used to, it's not the sweet, loving kiss she’s grown to expect—it's more. You don’t even understand it yourself—it's raw, it's passionate, it's the kind of kiss that could start a war—or end one—the kind of kiss that sucks all the air from the room.

Her body tenses up, and for a moment you fear that maybe this is too much, too far, and you ready to let her go.

But she melts into it—into you. You let go of her wrists to cradle her face, and her arms fall to your shoulders, wrapping around your neck as she kisses you back—kisses you like she doesn't want you to ever stop, like she knows she couldn't stop you even if she tried. Her nails dig into your skin, not painfully, but with enough pressure to remind you that she's here, that she's alive and real and in this moment with you.

You push her into the wall, the plaster giving a gentle protest, and she’s lifting her legs up—she’s straddling you again, gravity doing its job and keeping her affixed to your torso.

Chaewon adapts, her ankles lock behind your back, pressing herself against you, her thighs tightening around your waist, and she’s hips grinding down over your sweatpants.

It’s almost too much, too fast—zero to a hundred in record time. You break the kiss, panting, breathless, but Chaewon's eyes stay closed, her chest heaving, as if she's afraid that if she opens them, this moment will evaporate like a mirage.

"Enough proof for you?"

"Yeah," is all Chaewon can muster, and she opens her eyes, dazed, like you’ve just woken her up from a particularly good dream.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words coming out in a rush, "I didn't mean to lie to you, I just didn't want to ruin your fun. Are you upset?"

"Upset?" Chaewon repeats, letting the word roll around her lips. "Maybe a little bit," she's biting her lip—so endearingly—and you can see the wheels turning in her head—recalculating, reassessing. "But now I'm just..." she pauses, looking down and rolling her hips against you once more, "I'm just really, really turned on."

Her admission hangs in the air between the two of you, and the air in your apartment begins to feel hotter, thicker, laced with something new.

"I love how you take care of me, how you make me feel safe..." Chaewon continues, "But this... the way you're holding me up like this... So easily, it's just so..." Another shifting of weight, another grind of her hips, and she’s slowly discovering what your sweatpants is making very little to hide. "Hot."

"Is that right?" You can't take your eyes off her lips, the way they form those delicious words. Maybe you've been wrong to treat her like she's fragile, like you could hurt her if you're not careful enough. Maybe what she’s really been craving is to prove herself to you, to prove to you that she can handle you—all of you. "Tell me what you like about it."

"I like how—ah—" Her voice hitches as you let go of her waist with your hand, sliding it under her sweatshirt, running your fingers over her toned stomach, feeling it cave in a sharp inhale. "How in control you are. How strong you feel."

Even without your hand at her waist she doesn't fall—her legs simply tighten around your waist, her grip on your neck becoming more secure, more possessive. You trace her belly button with your fingertip—her breath catches, her eyes flutter shut.

"How it feels like you could do—mmm—" she continues, her words getting lost as your hand rises higher up her body, reaching the swell of her breasts. Chaewon arches her back, pushing her chest out for more, a soft mewl escaping her lips. “—could do anything to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you."

You slip your fingers under her bra, the fabric stretching to accommodate your touch, press your thumb against her nipple, feeling it pebble under your touch. You pinch and roll them lightly, basking in her reactions, the way her eyebrows furrow, the way her mouth forms a perfect 'O'.

"I can do anything I want to you."

Chaewon's eyes open, and she’s looking at you like she’s seeing someone entirely different in place of her usual, doting boyfriend. She's panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks a glowing shade of red that seems to spread down her neck and into the fabric of her sweatshirt. She opens her mouth, her breath coming out in short, sharp gasps, and she whispers—"Will you?"

Two simple words. Two simple words that unlock something deep inside you. Something primal. The thing inside each man since the dawn of time that drives them to hunt, kill, fuck like their lives depend on it.

Two simple words that have you leaning in and kissing her again, not just her lips—your mouth traces a fiery path along her jawline, the tender spot behind her ear, down her neck. Each kiss is a promise of what's to come, each nip of your teeth makes her shiver.

Chaewon gasps, her body writhing under your touch, her legs tightening around your waist, desperate and afraid you'll pull away. You don't. Instead, you press into her, feeling the wetness spreading through her shorts, and it takes all your self-control to not rip them off her right there.

"Bedroom," she manages to get out, a soft, fleeting whimper between kisses, "take me to the—"

You never find out the end of her sentence—twisting her body around, your hands cupping the firm, round globes of her ass, and in a single, swift motion, you lift her higher, throwing her up and over your shoulder.

"Wai—" Chaewon squeals as you hoist her up, her legs dangling in the air, has ass pointing to the sky.

She's giggling again, the sound muffled by the fabric of your sweatshirt, her laughter vibrating through your back as you carry her across the apartment.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this—" she's still giggling, managing to separate herself from your back to chide you,

"—you're so strong it's unfair—",

"—treating me like I weigh nothing—" ,

"—like a caveman—",

"—I'm going to have to tell the others about this—",

"—they won't believe it—",

"—I don't even believe it—",

"—my what a big, strong boyfriend I ha—"

But she's cut off again as you kick open the already ajar bedroom door, the wood slamming against the wall. Before she can realise what's happening you're throwing her onto the bed, her body bouncing once before she lands in a sprawled mess of limbs and exclamations.

"Are you ever going to let me finish a full sen—"

"Chae," her name comes out deeper and gruffer—far more demanding than you intended, cutting off her playful protests in an instant.

For once, Chaewon is paying full attention—no quips, no sarcasm, no laughter to lighten the mood—the room completely quiet except for the sound of her breathing, and even that seems to hush in anticipation of what's to come.

You stand over her, her legs still in the air, her body open and exposed for you—her sweatshirt riding up, revealing the smooth expanse of her stomach, the little mole you've kissed a thousand times just above her navel, her shorts stretched so tightly over her thighs.

It's in the way she's looking at you too—the way she squirms under your gaze, the way she can't help but make her body arch up towards you, pushing out those beautiful, perfect breasts, slightly parting her legs as if inviting you to dive in—wanting you to take her (to fuck her) in all the ways you wanted to but were too afraid to try before—it's all so different, all too much, all so fucking intoxicating.

"You want me to do whatever I want to you?"

Chaewon swallows hard, and nods.

"You want me to take you however I want?"

Another nod, another submission.

You step closer to the bed, your mind completely made up. "Then say it."

Her voice comes out hoarse, a strained whisper. "Take me."

"Again."

She repeats it, this time her words clearer, urgent. "Please—take me."

And with that—her shorts—those tight, far too tiny shorts—become your first victim. There's no time for slow, teasing unbuttoning or the gentle tug of fabric over skin. You're too far gone for that.

So, you rip.

The button pops off with a satisfying ping, and the material gives way, revealing her panties beneath. The sound makes Chaewon gasp, her body shiver.

Hooking your thumbs in the waistband, you drag the shorts down her legs, bringing them gliding over the soft skin of her ass, catching briefly on her thighs before you toss them to the floor.

Her panties are next—white, cotton, and oh-so-innocent looking—the kind tailor-made to be ripped off and left in shreds. But just as your hand reaches the waistband, something holds you back.

A thought—a flicker of doubt—crosses your mind. What if she doesn't like this? What if you're getting caught up and taking things too far? What if she regrets what she's about to let you do to her?

But then, "I'm okay," Chaewon says, reading your hesitation. "Stop thinking like that." Her voice is firm, almost commanding. "I want this."

"Chae—"

"I. Want. This." Chaewon repeats, her voice stronger. “I want it all.”

You trust her—you always will—and so, you nod, understanding the gravity of her words. You lean over her, capturing her gaze, making sure she sees you, really sees you. "Alright, but we need a safe word."

"A safe word." Chaewon echoes, a smile rising on her face, as she realises what a safe word means—what it enables you to do to her.

"If you want me to stop," you say, slowly, like a professor and his star pupil. "Just say..."

"Blueberry," Chaewon interjects, the corner of her mouth curling up into a mischievous smile.

"Blueberry?" It's so unfitting, so fucking adorable, so Chae. "Fine then, if you want me to stop," you begin to explain the rules of the game that you're already starting—kissing down her calf, over her knee, down that gorgeous curve of her inner thigh, until your lips are meeting cotton— "you just say 'blueberry'. As loud as you can, the second you want me to stop. Otherwise, we keep going until I'm satisfied. Got it?"

Chaewon nods eagerly, a little too eagerly, but you don't miss the glint of excitement in her eyes. She's so ready for you, so ready for what's to come next, her body vibrating with anticipation.

"Good."

The single word hangs in the air, a declaration of intent. With it, your hand moves to her panties, the cotton material damp with her arousal. You don't hesitate, you don't play it slow, again—all it takes is your thumb in her waistband and you rip. What were once her panties gives way easily, tearing with a sound that's halfway might as well be a starting pistol, revealing her bare, already glistening, already so wet pussy to the coolness of the room.

But Chaewon's not just lying there waiting for you to make your next move. No, she's not that kind of girl. She's sitting up now, her sweatshirt coming off with a flick of her wrists, the heavy garment flying through the air to land somewhere in the room, forgotten.

Her bra follows suit—quick, efficient, like she couldn't wait another second to be naked for you. Chaewon's breasts bounce free, full and firm and so fucking perfect, rosy tips hard from the cold air or maybe just from the way you're looking at her.

Fuck, the sight of her alone is almost too much. You take a moment, just to breathe her in—to admire the way the light from the bedside lamp casts shadows on her skin, highlighting the curves and valleys of her body. She's a work of art, a masterpiece, and now, she's all yours—every line, every freckle, every goosebump that pops up as the cool air kisses her heated skin.

But you're not here to admire, not now. You're here to give her exactly what she wants, to treat her exactly how she deserves.

You push her back into the bed, your hands on her shoulders, the mattress sinking under your joint weight, and you're kissing her again—no, not kissing, consuming. You kiss her like you're trying to claim her, like you're trying to brand her with your mouth, and she's kissing you back with matched desperation, her nails digging into your skin like she's trying to climb you, to get closer, closer still.

"Mmmm..." Chaewon presses herself up against you—her taut, stiff nipples pushing into your chest, perfect buds squashing themselves against your body, her bare skin gliding over your shirt, her pussy, hot and wet and slippery, working its way over the swell of your sweatpants.

Her hands are everywhere—fumbling with your shirt, running up and down your back, grabbing fistfuls of your hair—and her lips follow, peppering kisses across your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin just below your ear, her tongue tracing the shell, her lips whispers sweet—filthy—nothings into your ear.

She dares to move a hand lower, squeezing in some tiny gap between your two bodies, reaching for the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers teasing the skin just above the elastic.

But you're quicker, catching her wrist, pulling it away with a firm, yet gentle grip.

"No."

You collect her other wrist in the same hand, stretching her arms out and over her head, pushing her down—with your grip, your weight, your hips—keeping her in place, keeping her where you want, paying her back in kind for her earlier “victory”.

"I know what you want," you murmur against her neck. You lean more of your weight into her, your hips pressing down, grinding against her—a slow, deliberate movement, that stains your sweatpants with the juices leaking from her pink, puffy lips.

"Yes," she purrs, "I need you."

"I know," you taunt—another grind, another groan, a deepening stain, "but I need you to want me more."

"I do," she's pleading, begging, "please, I need your cock."

"Not yet," you say, a light chuckle at the whine that escapes her lips. "Not yet."

"But—"

"I am going to fuck you," you say. "Not how you're used to." Her breath hitches, throat swallows—apprehension, arousal, adrenaline—it's all there, playing out on her face like a silent movie. "I'm going to fuck you in every way that I've ever wanted to, in every way I thought you could never handle."

You snake a hand from her waist, drawing a path with your fingertips, running them over her soft, unblemished skin, the ridges of her abs, as you move your hand down, down, until you're right at the juncture of her thighs.

"Ah!" It's the sweetest sound, a high-pitched gasp that turns into a full-throated groan as your index finger breaches her wetness, sliding into the slick, dripping opening of her cleanly shaved cunt—so, so wet—until it's buried knuckle-deep inside her.

Chaewon's back lifts off the bed, her body curving as you slide your finger in and out of her, settling into a steady rhythm. Every movement earns a different, delightful reaction—you trigger your finger: her body shakes, you kiss her neck: she echoes back your name, you add your middle, then your ring finger into her tightness: she falls apart.

"God—gah—" she chokes on whatever noise her mouth is trying to make, her legs spreading wider, hips bucking up to meet your hand, your rhythm. She's beyond soaked; her thighs, her lips, your palm—all drenched in hot, insatiable wetness. "You're so—so fucking good at this."

You add your thumb to the mix, brushing the hood of her clit with the pad; you curl your fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her crumble.

Her eyes start to close, she’s lost to the sensation, her face contorting in beautiful agony as her walls close around your digits, before you snap her out of it—tightening your grip around her wrists, a slight jolt of pain to force her eyes to meet yours.

"Look at me," you grunt. "Look at me while I fuck you."

Chaewon doesn't dare even blink—she’s so obedient—and the way she's looking up at you now—so willing, so wanting to please, so eager for more—it's bordering on complete worship.

So, you give it to her. You plunge your fingers deeper, twisting and turning, feeling her tighten around you, her wetness coating your hand, the walls of her pussy fluttering with each stroke. You can see it in the redness of her cheeks, the trembling of her thighs, the way her stomach muscles tighten and release—she's close, she’s been so close for far too long.

"Good girl." You kiss her forehead, her nose, her dimples, something sweet amongst the depravity.

"Am I?" Chaewon's question is hopeful, so disastrously erotic, her voice a breathy whisper. There's the beginnings of a storm in her eyes, the first hints painting her features in a way that's so vulnerable, that tells you the only thing holding her back from collapsing is your explicit approval.

"Yes, Chae," you murmur against her ear, nibbling gently, your fingers melting inside her folds. "You're being such a good girl for me."

"Th-thank you," she manages shaky words, barely keeping it together, at the mercy of the quickening of your fingers, the circling of your thumb, the movements of your hand, helping her climb towards that wonderful peak. "Oh my God—how are you—how is this—so—fuck—fuck—"

"Good girls deserve a reward." You're roughly kissing into her collarbone, feeling her pulse hammering under your lips—you want to leave a mark on her body, something for her to remember this by—something to remind her how completely she came apart for you. "Cum for me—cum now—cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it—how much you love it."

"Please," Chaewon's desperate, so desperate, trying to do something, anything, everything that she can to convince you to let her fall apart. "I love how you touch me—just—please—I’m so close—"

She’s on fire, there’s too much pressure—your fingers work inside her, undoing a knot of their own making—unravelling that slutty ache inside your girlfriend—your good girl—fucking her and stretching her, making her eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth to drop open in a silent scream.

"So good—so fucking good—just like that—mmmm-MMMPH!"

You breathe it in—your mouth on hers, her cries dying in your throat—feeling her tighten, tense, release around your hand as her small, tight frame—her whole, amazing body—overwhelmed by just three fingers and a thumb.

It takes her like an eruption, a natural disaster—dancing along her skin, to her hips, her thighs, her ribs, her breasts—turning her into a shivering mess, leaving her limp beneath you.

"Fuh—"

You release her lips, watching her pant and quiver, her chest heave, her body spasm from the aftershocks of her climax.

Your hand is drowned in her heat, her juices sticking to your skin as you slowly draw your fingers out of her, glistening in the soft light of the room.

"Here, have a taste." You lift your hand to her face, tracing your sticky fingers along the seam of her mouth, smearing her juices over her soft, parted lips.

Chaewon's tongue darts out, welcoming your digits as you push inside her mouth. She sucks greedily, her tongue lapping your fingertips—she can't get enough of the taste of herself on you.

"Good girl," you say again, and again—she shivers.

The tremors of her orgasm start to fade, and you pull your fingers from her mouth—no longer lathered in her cum, but shiny with her spit.

You straighten, leaning back so you're on your knees, between Chaewon's spread legs. Her eyes follow your hand as it leaves her wrist, traveling up to the neck of your shirt, pulling it off your head and reuniting it with the growing pile of discarded clothing.

Her gaze wanders down, down your body, landing at your waist, at your pants, painfully stretching over your erection.

"Take it out for me, Chae," you instruct, unnecessarily—she's already there, licking her lips, quick at work. Practiced fingers pull down your sweatpants and set your cock free, letting it spring into view, hard and heavy, landing directly on her lips.

But she doesn't get the chance to take it in her mouth, to swirl her tongue around the tip and suck you like she's so clearly been dying to—you have her by the hair before she can dive on your cock, to take it down her throat. It's harsh, it's sudden, it elicits a startled groan from her throat—but it makes it clear that this is not going to be the usual 'good little girl' kind of night.

"No," is all you have for her. You're on the edge—you've been on the edge ever since she pleaded for you—you’re done with the foreplay; you're done with the teasing. Fucking Chaewon senseless. That’s all there is now—fucking her hard and fast.

You pull her up by her hair and your mouth is back on hers, pushing and pulling, tongue in her throat, tasting her—tasting her nectar on her lips—dominating her, her own tongue dancing and wrapping around yours, her teeth grazing your bottom lip.

Your other hand finds its way to her chest, squeezing her breast in your palm, feeling the weight of it, the softness of her skin, the hardened peak of her nipple against your palm. There's not enough time—you want to shove your face between them, taste her nipples, feel them roll between your teeth, give them the attention they deserve.

But instead, you're pulling back on her hair again, gritting your teeth. "Turn around. Bend over."

There's no hesitation, no protest from her—Chaewon's a good girl, and good girls do as they’re told. She rolls onto her hands and knees, her ass in the air—she's presenting herself to you: an offering, a prize, a fucking goddess on a platter. Her spine arches as she looks back at you over her shoulder, the soft curve of her cheeks begging for you to take it.

You startle her, taking her by the hips, pulling her back to you so that when you lean in, your mouth is pressed to her ear, and your cock is twitching against the waiting, wanting, folds of her lower lips. "I'm going to make you feel it," you whisper. "Every part of you, understand?"

Chaewon nods, but it's not enough—not for what you have in store.

"I don't just want a nod, I want to hear you say it. I want you to tell me how good it feels while I'm fucking you—I want to hear it all."

"O-Okay.” She’s tense, you can see it, like a coil winded up in her body, but she's eager, so fucking eager, been waiting for this for far too long—"make me scream for you—FUCK!"

Chaewon's true to her word—she shrieks as you bury yourself deep inside her, is undone by your cock—as ready and wet as she is for you, she's still so incredibly tight, needing you to stretch her, fill her, own her.

But it's not enough—you’re not going to ease her into this, to the pleasure ripping through your bodies, not going to let this moment breathe.

As soon as you've sunk into her, given her every inch that her needy little pussy could take, you're backing up, sliding your stained shaft right out of her cunt before slamming back forward.

She's crying out, making barely intelligible sounds, as you’re digging your fingers into that tiny waist, holding her by her hips as you crash into her, feeling it all—the unfathomable heat, the tightness, the wetness, the way she clenches around you with each thrust—again and again and again.

"Words, Chae," you remind her, needing more from than just the sounds of her sweet, sweet agony, and the slapping of your hips against her ass cheeks. "I want words."

"Y-yes—fuh—fuck—YES!" One-syllable noises are all that Chaewon can manage to start—all you can fuck out of her—but with each thrust, she's getting better, getting bolder. "It feels so good, so hard, so big—God, so deep—you've never—I've never been fucked like this…"

"More." It's addictive, hearing her talk like this, knowing every word that comes out of her mouth is the absolute fucking truth—the proof is in how she's shaking beneath you, how she drips around you, how her fingers claw into the sheets, trying her best to hold on. “Tell me more.”

"Y-you're going so fast—so fucking hard!" Mindless, stream-of-consciousness, fuck-drunk ramblings spill from her lips—she's begging, cooing, whimpering as you mercilessly fuck her, making her divine tits swing below her, her ass ripple with each collision. "Making me so wet—making me so fucking wet—I can't even—can't think straight—just your cock—your fucking cock!"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it Chae?" You hiss, over the sounds of the headboard slamming against the wall, the bed creaking beneath you, and her moans—oh those moans. "This is how I'm going to fuck you from now on—however I want, wherever I want, whenever I want."

"Yes-yes—this is what I want—what I fucking need. To be fucked like this—pounded—broken—so fucking sensitive." The words come so easily from her lips, straight from the pleasure centres of her brains and to your ears. "I deserve this—I've been so good—haven't I? Aren't I your good girl—please tell me I'm your good girl—please?"

"You're my good girl, Chae, you’re my perfect little slut," you acquiesce, and she cries out in relief, her body shaking under the weight of your words—she leans into your touch, your control, your cock. "And good girls get what they fucking deserve."

Another thrust has Chaewon bowing her head down to offer more of herself to you, to give you a better angle to pump her harder, deeper, laying her cheek on the bed and turning her face so you can see that blissful grin on her face, see her lips mouth your name like a prayer.

It's so perfect—she's so fucking perfect—so impossibly tight, a ridiculously wet dream of a cunt—"all yours, all yours"—so aching for you to fuck her straight into the mattress—"I can't take it"—so needy for you—"use me"—so hungry for you—"more—please—I need it."

You're giving in—giving long, intense strokes—you're consumed by it, by her, by how every lovely curve and tensed muscle of her immaculate body is doing its best to take you, to please you, to give you a fraction of the ecstasy that’s breaking her into a million tiny, euphoric pieces.

"God, I love it—love your cock—pounding me—fucking me—hurting me—I can't even think—GOD!" She's doing her best to form coherent sentences, but it's futile, she's slipping—you're not even sure if she's aware of what she's even saying anymore—it's just raw, unfiltered need.

This is going to be a problem—you're never going to be able to go back. Not when she's so needy for you—so needy to be filled by you, so needy to hear your praise as she takes your cock, so full of nothing but words of thanks for how roughly you're treating her, how you're completely ruining her—"thank you—thank you—thank you for fucking me so good."

And then you're falling, a deep, sharp thrust and you’ve sent her forward—her knees give in first, her elbows buckle. She's taking you with her, pulling you by the cock still lodged deep in her cunt. You catch yourself before your face hits the bed, one hand on the mattress, the other still wrapped around her waist.

It does little to slow you down—just gives you a better vantage point to fuck her deeper into the mattress—"yes—yes—fuck—fuck—" —to run your hand up her body and seize her by her tits, so ripe and full and yours to squeeze and twist and tease— "touch me—hurt me—it's all yours—all fucking yours."

And you do—oh, you do—you take her by the tits, feeling the soft flesh of her breasts give way to your grip, roll her nipple between your thumb and forefinger—so sensitive, so responsive. She's lost in it, so happy in the pain and pleasure of your touch—you're leaving another mark—and she cries, she curses, she clenches around you, she joins her hand over yours and pushes you for more, needing more of the loving sting you're giving her.

She’s pulsing on your shaft—walls tightening and quivering—she's so close, so fucking close to cumming—and your body responds, your cock thickens, your strokes powerful, purposeful. "I can't—I can't—baby, please—please—please—"

"You're going to cum for me now, aren't you?" You ask, like it's a question, like you can't see the tension building in her body, can’t see how she's holding her breath and gritting her teeth—it's so fucking obvious she's about to explode.

"Yes—yes—I'm about to—about to—FUCK! I can't fucking take this anymore!"

You take her by the throat—twisting her face so you can see it—you need to see it—need to see the moment she breaks for you. "Look at me," you demand—her eyes rolling up to meet yours, all teary and flawless and beautiful— "look at me when I make you cum."

"God yesssss," Chaewon gurgles, shivers, quakes, "please—please—I'm cumming—I'm cumming— I'm cumming on your fucking cock—OH FUCK!"

Your name leaves her lips in a long, symphonic, slurred cry—and she cums—not in that lovely, beautiful way you've seen her orgasm dozens of times before—this is overpowering, consuming, violent—a million tiny deaths—one magnum opus—sculpted by the Gods and utterly ruined in all ways possible, reduced once again to nothing but a mess of quivers and mewls and moans—pushed over the edge by your cock, forcing her to gush down her thighs.

She's clenching and wringing and doing everything she can to bring you with her—"God—so fucking good—I’m cumming so hard—GOD! I just need—I want it—please give it—give me your cum—fill me with it—do whatever you want to me just give it to me!"

Her eyes are open again—she's inflicted with the same curse as you—she needs to see it, see the look in your eyes as you fill her, finally claim her in her entirety as yours, finally join and become undone in the same preciously brutal ways.

"Keeeep going—cum in me—cum in me—" It’s becoming a mantra now—three short words—as if there was any other option, as if she had any choice. As much as you want to hold on, to drag this out, to savour every second of this chaos—fucking her silly, viciously, tight pussy choking your cock, she won't stop, refuses to— "cum in me—cum in me—cum in me -"

"You want it? You need it? Does your cunt need my cum?"

"Y-yes, please—fuck—fill me up—fuck me up—fill—me—fucking—PLEASE!"

She's a vision, a goddess, she's yours, she's—"Fuck, Chae, god-fucking-take-it!"—she's taking your cum like the fucking slut she is.

God, it feels dizzying, a high so perfect it must be illegal, making your vision dark and your ears ring—the only thing tethering you to the Earth itself is the feeling of her burning hot cunt, the cunt you're fucking like its only purpose in this world is to make your cock feel good.

You’re speeding towards the final stretch now—hard and rough and somehow lasting forever but ending far too soon. Nothing matters except for her exceptionally tight hole, taking you—all of you, everything you have—and you’re clinging onto her—her tits, her throat—you’re bruising and choking her, your body crushing her into the bed, and she's still screaming your fucking name like she's so damn grateful to you for treating her like she deserves.

And then, you let go.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby, oh my fucking God," Chaewon groans, "It's so much—you're filling me up— oh, fuck, oh, fuck, OH FUCK!"

It’s a car crash, a pressure valve opening, it’s too fucking much—you can’t hold back—she can’t possibly take anymore.

It burns through you both—the first, the second, the third—rope after rope after rope of cum firing into her sore, well-fucked cunt, filling it completely to the brim. All the lust, all the tension, everything, all at once, released at once in a tidal wave of white into Chaewon's swollen, sopping wet pussy.

“SO GOOD—SO FUCKING FULL!”

One final thrust—one shared cry—like nothing you’ve ever felt before—like you’re being torn apart and reassembled, piece by piece—and you collapse into her, your bodies melting into one— boneless and shaking in the aftermath of it all.

Chaewon’s cumdump of a pussy is still twitching around you—still begging for more, milking your cock even though it’s already given everything it can, every drop it has—making it impossible for you to pull out without feeling like you're leaving a part of yourself behind.

Eventually—when the numbness subsides and you're able to move again—you slide off her, onto your side, slipping your spent cock out of her well-fucked pussy. It's an image that you burn into core of your brain—her ass in the air, your cum dripping from her, the puddle of you leaking from her glistening folds and pooling on your ruined bedsheets.

"So good... so good..." Chaewon's slurring, drifting—fucked out of consciousness—already lost in some blissful, post-orgasmic dream.

That's where you follow her, exhaustion seeping into every bone in your body, and you're slipping down, down and away into that heavenly oblivion.

When you awake, Chaewon's curled into you—your chest is her pillow, your arms her blanket. She's still (thankfully) naked—your cum drying on her thighs, and she's awake, lazily drawing circles with her finger around your heartbeat.

"Hey," you say, kissing the top of her head, getting her attention.

She looks up at you—God, she's so fucking beautiful—a soft smile on her lips. "Hi."

"That was..." You dare to start, but the words catch in your throat.

"Perfect," Chaewon finishes for you, "so fucking perfect."

"Are you sure? I got lost in the moment there, Chae, I—" The ghost of an apology is on your lips, but Chaewon's eyes widen, and she slaps a hand over your mouth.

"Don't," Chaewon stops you, "don't ruin it with an apology. I wanted that. Needed it. More than I thought, I guess. It was amazing."

You look down at her, so small in your arms, searching her face for any hint of doubt or regret, but all you can find is perfect contentment.

And she's smiling, so sweetly, so happily. So Chaewon. The slutty cum dumpster, the adorable princess—the woman of your dreams.

She’s giggling still, tracing wider patterns on your chest, her breath warm against your skin. "You were incredible," she presses her nose into your neck and inhales deeply. "I never knew you had that in you."

"I didn't either," you admit, stroking her hair, looping strands between your fingers. "I had no idea how much I'd like it—how good it would feel. I mean I love getting to hold you like this—hugging you and kissing you, but—"

"It's nice to not have to treat me like I'm made of glass, isn't it?" She finishes. A beat passes, before Chaewon tables her final request. "You know, that thing you called me, while we were..."

Her voice trails off, and she's blushing now—the kind of blush that makes you want to kiss her, kiss it off her cheeks, kiss her until she's blushing all over again. "I think I called you a lot of things that probably shouldn't be repeated outside of this room." You say, and she’s laughing, slapping your chest lightly.

"You know what I'm talking about," she says. "Call me it again. Please? Can you?"

You laugh, bending down so you can steal a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.

She's pouting, doe-eyes wide and hopeful—so Goddamn adorable—and you can't resist, after all—it's always best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants.

"My good girl," you murmur into her ear, "my perfect little slut."

#kpop smut #chaewon smut #le sserafim smut #male reader

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areislol · 9 months

Text

"forget him, be with me instead."

ft— various male genshin x fem! reader (childhood friend trope)

warning — slight angst but it's just a pinch! comfort, mutual pining (?), smitten men, fluff, kissing. headcanons are a bit down! modern! au, implied toxic relationship

a/n— yay time to write some fluff after writing angst, what a life! listened to laufey's 'everything i know about love' album while listening to this ^^ this is a little bit rushed and might be a wee bit shitty but uhm please don't judge your girl was out here suffering

wordcount. 3.7k

synopsis. your boyfriend stood you up on your date, once again, and as usual your childhood friend is here to comfort you.

In the soft glow of the quaint café, you sat alone, your anticipation slowly morphing into a quiet ache. You had meticulously chosen your outfit, a delicate dance between casual and elegant.

You had arrived early, your excitement palpable. The minutes stretched into an eternity as the minutes on the clock ticked away, and the once hopeful glimmer in yours eyes dimmed with each passing moment.

The ambient chatter and clinking of utensils became a dissonant soundtrack to your growing unease. You checked your phone repeatedly, hoping for a message or a call that would explain the delay.

The vibrant ambiance of the café, which had initially felt like the backdrop to a romantic night, now served as a cruel witness to your solitude.

You take out your phone from your pocket, anxiously checking the time on your phone before sliding your hand back in, clenching it tightly. 8 PM. Your heart sunk as you realized that it was now exactly 8 PM, the time you both agreed on arriving.

You didn't want to jump to conclusions, maybe he was stuck in traffic? But then again it was 8 PM, barely any road traffic. Was his boss keeping him back for a little bit? Did the wifi cut off in his building, was that why he couldn't send you a text?

Despite trying to comfort yourself by putting ideas in your head, you had a hunch that he was most definenetly not coming, he had forgotten about your date.

It wasn't the first time he stood you up, as a matter of fact, he had stood you up many times but you always pushed it aside. You pushed his mistakes aside, why? Because he was your boyfriend. You knew it was wrong but... what could you do? You didn't want to lose him.

As the realization settled in, a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment clouded your expression. The waiter, noticing your solitary presence, approached with a mixture of sympathy and concern.

You mustered a brave smile and declined a menu, your appetite for food dissipating. The warmth of the café offered little solace as you continued to sit on your reserved seat, looking like an utter fool just sitting there, waiting for someone who wasn't going to come any time soon.

You checked the time once again, 8:10 PM, seconds went by, then minutes, and hours. You checked the time one more time—the clock reached 10:15 PM. You had arrived at the café at 7 PM.

Sighing at the realization that you really sat there and waited for your 'boyfriend' for three hours, you felt like an idiot. And even more of an idiot of the fact that you let this slide so many times.

You decide to leave the café, ignoring the sympathetic looks given your way. You take out your phone from your pocket once again, this time you didn't check the time but rather press on a familiar icon before making a call.

As you foot taps on the ground anxiously you wait for him to pick up the phone. You stand outside just a few inches away the café door, as you wait for what felt like an eternity all the emotions got to you.

Tears welled in your eyes, betraying the resilience you had tried so hard to maintain. Your emotions that were long kept in check, spilled over like a dam bursting at the seams. The phone continued to buzz, waiting for the other side to pick up.

The streetlamp cast a soft glow on your tear-streaked face as you lowered your phone, defeated by both the silence and the heartache. But just as the phone was about to go silent, by some miracle he picked up.

"Y/N?" For some odd reason hearing his voice made you have the urge to bawl your eyes out once again. You hastily wiped away your tears and attempted to sound nonchalant.

"Hey I uh.. I—" you paused, voice a delicate balance between composure and fragility. Sighing, you continued. "I got stood up."

Your words were short and blunt, but by now you were holding back a waterfall. You patiently wait for his answer over the deafening silence. "... Again? That boy.."

His voice was laced with annoyance, disappointment and concern.

"Where are you now? At the café? Stay right there, shit it's raining, make sure to stay under cover okay? I'll be there in about 10 minutes."

You could hear the sounds of him excusing himself from his boss and the angry cries from his boss.

"Aren't you at work though? It's okay you don't have to come pick me up."

"Are you crazy? So what if I'm at work? I'm not leaving you out there alone, plus it's raining. I know you hate having wet hair." Well, he wasn't lying. He was your childhood friend after all, he knew almost everything about you.

And before you knew it, just after a couple minutes of ending the call you noticed a figure making it's way towards you, umbrella in hand as he gives you a small smile. All the while rain was pouring down on your head.

is extremely happy that you finally realized that your boyfriend (soon to be ex) is horrible, he won't show it though. but he is really happy.

the first thing he did when he saw you absolutely drenched in the heavy downpour was take off his jacket and place it over your shoulders and hold the umbrella over your head. there were many questions he wanted to ask but the main one was "are you alright?"

yes he wanted to question about that damn lout (your boyfriend) but he already knew the answer. it happened too many times, way too many times. you and your boyfriend would agree to go on a date, you would arrive early or on time, you wouldn't get an answer from him when you questioned why he was late, minutes would turn into hours and then you would call him.

he wasn't mad at you, no never, but your (*cough* ex *couch*) boyfriend? absolutely. if anything he wanted to prove to you that he was a horrible boyfriend so he would always come to pick you up and try to knock some sense into your head, sometimes his words would go from one ear and out your other.

when you don't answer his question and begin to bawl your eyes out he immediately begins to panic, because you are crying hard. he only lets out a soft sigh before holding the back of your head and gently pushes your face in his chest, letting you cry into his chest. he softly pats your head in an attempt to comfort you (it does)

he resist the urge to say "i told you so" because, he did tell you so, but he knew it would only dampen your mood. he reassures and shushes you warmly, and his soft voice really does calm you down.

"shh, i know it's okay. you'll be fine. he is a big jackass alright? don't waste your pretty tears on him."

you both begin to walk together through the raining weather, he obviously doesn't want to see you cry so he offers to buy you your favourite snacks and drinks in a convenience store. you refuse, thinking that you already troubled him enough but NO he will not take no for an answer.

"trouble me? never."

and it worked!! your mood slightly lifted after chugging down your favourite packet of chips. in all honestly he found your puffy cheeks and eyes cute, the way your eyes glistened slightly from your tears, and the way you were chomping on your food? so adorable.

when you quietly thank him his heart bursts even more (like every other day he sees you) but he waves his hand, "it's nothing, sit down, lets talk."

why did he sound so scary? he would never know. when you both sit down on the ground, back pressed against the wall of a shop, he begins to question you. "you do realize that this is like the tenth time he stood you up right?" you nod your head sadly as you were reminded of what had happened.

he sighed, "i just want you to know that this.. you can't just forgive him after this, after all of this. he even forgot your anniversary! i'm.. i'm just worried for you. you know that?"

you knew he was only worrying for you and wanted the best for you. but despite all the other times that you would dismiss his worries and say "it's okay we all make mistakes" you really thought about it this time. and boy was he right.

do you know how ecstatic he was when you told him that you would break up with him!? HE WAS OVER THE MOON, he was literally on cloud 9. not that he could show it thought, you would be suspicious of him. but then again he has had the biggest and fattest crush on you since you were little.

but after that he tried his best to make you happier (even if he hated doing it), he would point out the most stupidest shit ever, "oh look at that squirrel, Y/N, doesn't it remind you of childe?" or "wow the uh, the light is really.. light'ing.."

sigh.. he's trying his best okay..

although it wasn't really funny, the way he spoke was most definenetly funny. when he notices how you hold back your laughter or even chuckle slightly that's just his motivation to do better, he would also tell you silly little jokes that he googled on his phone (while you were looking away) quickly.

buttt now he has an even better idea :) what is it you say? taking you out on a date of course! right now...? why not right now!

(please he's just really excited that you're going to break up with that old hag, meaning he has a shot!! he will definenetly give it his all to try and woo you.)

— ALHAITHAM, kaeya, WRIOTHESLEY, AYATO, dainsleif, NEUVILLETTE, CYNO, ZHONGLI, tighnari

starts scolding you and goes on a bit ass rant about how you deserve better than that (AND I QUOTE) "low life lout", he thinks he sounds all harsh and mean but to you he only sounds like he was really worried about you

"seriously, how many times does this boy have to repeat his actions until the truth gets through your thick noggin." he heaved a great sigh, a bit dramatic don't you think? he continues to rant and rant about blah blah blah you weren't listening. and only when he notices that tears are rolling down your cheeks freely does he shut the hell up.

"hey hey— what's wrong? don't cry.." he tries his best to act slightly annoyed because truly he kind of was, he hated seeing you hang out with your 'boyfriend', he hated seeing how your eyes would light up every time you saw him, the effort you put into your relationship, he hated how blind you were to his actions.

but, despite his tough outer shell he was really a softie inside. so when you began to bawls your eyes out (again) he immediately switches up, his voice that was so harsh was no soft and tender. a tone he barely uses (he only spoke nicely to you okay!!)

a sigh. "i didn't mean to be mean, i'm sorry. i'm just so annoyed that you keep on.. i don't know! i'm just frustrated okay." you were confused? why was he frustrated, shouldn't it be the other way around since.. you.. were the one being stood up?

he (surprisingly) wipes away your tears, cupping your cheeks with his hand as he uses his thumb to dry your tears. "i don't like seeing you cry, okay? follow me now" you were confused again, but follow him anyway.

he literally bought you back inside the café, the waiter looks happy and surprised (in her head she was thinking: wow so this is the fucker who stood his own girlfriend up?), when he was ordering your favourite pastry and drink he was really confused about why the lady was giving him such a dirty face.

"hey y/n, any idea why that lady over there is giving me a stank eye?"

he watches as you eat your food happily, he only hoped that you had forgotten what had happened before, not only that but he sees this as a way to show you that he would be a much better boyfriend, i mean look at him! he came (he would always come on time), memorized what your favourite snacks/pastries/drinks were, sat down with you. he wasn't trying to boast but.. he would make one hell of a boyfriend than your current one.

you noticed that he wasn't eating and just.. staring at you. "want some?" you offered, he shook his head no but you wouldn't take that for an answer. you shove a spoonful of cake in his mouth and smile happily. "yummy?" he only grumbles, looking like an angry cat. "mmm i guess.." (he really liked it please feed him more)

seeing you smile after bawling your eyes out and wasting your tears on somebody you didn't deserve felt like a treat. he also wipes the excess food and crumbs on the corner of your lips, he looked adorable when he was concentrating hard to wipe it off, and it wasn't like he was trying to be romantic as he wasn't maintaining eye contact, but when he backed away and looked at you and notices how you were smirking he scoffed.

"don't you get any ideas now." you giggled at his words and continued to eat your cake as well as occasionally feeding him as well. all you were thinking about was ow delicious the cake was but all he was thinking about was you. he was.. basically taking you out on a date. woah.

when you both exit the shop, you thank him for the food and also apologize for dragging him out here in the rain and how you got his hair wet. "yeah well yours is too. you can blame that asshole." he noticed how your face slightly drops, a solemn expression on your face.

"yeah.. i guess so." !?!?!?! you actually agreed with him?!?! HE WON AT LIFE WOOOOOOOOOOO

and now that you both are on the same terms he can finally talk to you about everything, but all the while he was explaining how he saw him (your soon to be ex) treat you, he couldn't help but also include his feelings. that's one thing you caught on.

"he forgot your anniversary, did you forget? i was absolutely frustrated! i mean at his actions, i mean his actions and him! i would never do that if i was your boyfriend. h—hypothetically."

you had a hunch that he had a thing for you, but not that big of a crush. maybe he was just really angry that he kept stumbling over his words?

either way, he told you what you should do you this time you listened, chiming in with your own experiences with your boyfriend and the more you did that the more you began to notice hoe you really looked past all his red flags.

safe to say he won at life, again, this time he won't pussy out on you and will for sure confess to you!

— WANDERER, XIAO, dottore, diluc, PIERRO, albedo

a bit... too giddy. willingly SHOWS and TELLS that he is happy. i mean not at you being stood up but how you're finally getting a grip, wait.. is than a "i'm going to break up with him" he heard?!?! GOD BLESS

he doesn't say anything at first, comforting you and drying your hair the very best he can (literally bought a book to dry your hair: swatting it), he lets you cry on his shoulder, letting you hug him tightly (not that he was complaining... oh did you just break his ribs? nah it's all good)

he lets you calm down first to the point where it's just hiccups rather than tears rolling down your cheeks (and when you could barely breathe by how you were choking on your tears), he holds you in his arms, rocking you slightly.

"okay, i don't want to sound.. rude but, i think it's time you start to notice how badly he's treating you. i mean, look at you, you're a mess (dare i say, a beautiful one), he made you feel this, he made you cry. and he isn't here to apologize. this isn't the first time too, y/n, i'm begging you, please don't look past this."

he tries his best to explain to you everything, what he saw, what he is doing to you, how he feels and how you feel (he knows everything shh). and you can't deny it, you won't, because everything he was telling you was true. and you hated how you couldn't deny anything.

he leaves you for a couple of minutes so that you could collect your thoughts and emotions while he went to go buy some snacks, especially some sweets and savory. "this should cheer you up" he says as he passes the plastic bag to you.

"oh wait i forgot to get some ramen, be right back!" you didn't have enough time to stop him as he was already on his way to grab a hot cup of ramen for you. he was just too sweet. when he came back with your favourite cup of ramen he would open the lid and blow onto it, he insisted on feeding you, saying that you must've been exhausted from today (but you barely did anything?)

you can't help but notice how... somewhat happy he was, normally when he comes after you call him (after being stood up once again) he seemed concerned for you, and he does look concerned for you, i mean he is always but today... he looked giddy. was it maybe because you said that you would be breaking up with your boyfriend today? so strange..

!!! not only that but he encourages you to break up with him, and he doesn't mean it like that, he just wants the best for you. and you obviously say yes because.. everything he is telling you IS true. next thing you know he's literally helping you write a sincere paragraph to your boyfriend on text.

"oh you should send a voice message as well, i think it'll really help him understand how serious you are."

you're too afraid to make a voice message? no worries, he'll do it for you!! he will send the most passive aggressive voice message know to man kind (he had to fight back the urge to yell obscenities over call). basically, this man is way too happy, not that it's suspicious or anything, just a little worrying LMAO

he's just really happy, happy for him and you! it's a win-win honestly. you finally get out of that toxic relationship and finally get a hold of reality, but also for him to finally get his chance to maybe try to confess to you. (one day... but he'll make sure to woo you sooner or later before someone else swoops you off your feet)

he's literally on his way to manifest for you two to be together, repeat after him, i don't chase, i attract (he literally chases after you so uhm forget about that please)

— THOMA, KAVEH, LYNEY, itto, gorou, KAZUHA, pantalone, heizou, VENTI, capitano, childe, baizhu

As the rain began to clear, only leaving behind a tranquil symphony of soft pitter-patters. You two stood next to each other, letting the silence take over.

All the while he was contemplating something, something that will change your relationship for the better or worse.

Should he kiss you?

For years he had always wanted to feel your lips against his but he was always so nervous to do so.

But right now? It was the perfect opportunity, the raining had almost cleared, the atmosphere was soft and romantic. If he didn't do it now then who knew how long it would take for him to build up his courage again?

All of the sudden he cupped your cheek with warm palms, the tenderness in his touch was evident even in the hesitant pause that hung in the air.

For a moment, uncertainty flickered in his eyes, a silent contemplation of unspoken desires. Was he really about to pussy out again?

You, for one, was a bit puzzled by the sudden shift in the atmosphere and his sudden actions. When your gaze met his with curiosity. In that fleeting moment, he knew he had to do it.

Even if it ruined everything he built up with you.

He muttered a breathless "fuck it," as if casting aside the weight of hesitation that tethered him, in a moment that felt like an eternity, he leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a passionate kiss that stole her breath away.

You were caught off guard, were you imagining this? No you couldn't be, it felt so real. Your heart raced with a mixture of surprise and delight. The kiss was passionate and full of raw emotion, igniting a fire within her that she was pressed so far down.

The softness of his lips against yours sent waves of tenderness through your body, and in that moment, your realized that this kiss was not just a spur-of-the-moment act; it was a reflection of the unspoken feelings that had been building between them for so long.

His touch was gentle yet filled with an underlying intensity, it was a kiss that sparked something, expressing all the words they had been too afraid to say.

You closed your eyes, allowing him to continue as your hands held onto his wrist. A couple of seconds passed by when he, unfortunately, pulled away—your eyes locked once again in a silent acknowledgment.

His eyes held such a fiery passion as you stared deeply into your eyes. He looked relieved as if finally taking initiative that had been weighing him down.

"I... But—" You were still left breathless as you spoke, you felt an underlying guilt, still not haven broken up with your boyfriend yet.

He understood what you were thinking and feeling, "look at me, Y/N." At his request you did so, observing his face and trying to guess what he was going to do next. Kiss you again? (Yes please)

"Forget him, be with me instead."

note: off to continue writing for my sagau now, this was more like a shitpost for the shits and giggles but aye

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

another note: not proof read so if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me

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metranart · 18 days

Text

Obsessed with Yuji and Sukuna who are inexplicably fascinated by your mere existence . <𝟑

Ft. Yuji x reader, Sukuna x reader. Both, vessel and curse, are thirsty for your unshared attention. Manipulation, gaslighting, horny pink-haired sorcerer, bad decisions, sneaking into your room while you're sleeping, slight! non-con elements.

Yuji was distracted.

His cheeks now own a permanent pinkish hue, his hands sweat an awful lot and his gaze seemed to have an automatic aim to find you.

You had perturbed the vessel of Sukuna.

This had never happened to him before and it worries him…a lot, almost to the point where he blames the king of curses for his recent indecent thoughts.

Yes, that must be it. Sukuna is morphing my thoughts into a perturbing fog of arousal and… depravity. Its definitely him.

Yuji convinces himself each time his eyes drag through the length of your bare legs or when your bra is visible under your white shirts and your round breast bounce when you run or happily jump at a joke he said, its practically hypnotizing and throughfully frustrating to let his mind run rampant.

His imagination is a nagging bitch which wishes to do more than just watch, he can only imagine the way your soft skin will feel under his fingertips.

If your breast will fit in his big, powerful hands and how good it will feel while massaging his dick in between the plump flesh.

Your mouth is a favorite of his, to have your lips wrapped around his meaty length must be nice and to be able to feed you his bitter milk every morning makes him shiver in his sorcerer uniform.

This thoughts are over the line for a sweet and simple boy like him and he cant stop from feel flustered every time but what worries him and has him in red alert is the persistency and the lewd air they were gaining with each day.

Jerking himself off each morning at the pray of your name is not helping to ease the rest of his day, anymore. He has begin to resource to much primitive ways to relax, ways that mortify and ashame him each time he blew his load.

Stole a pair of your panties to wrap his dick while he masturbates, once entered your room and bury his face in your pillow for almost an hour until he felt all his muscles loose. Has taken photos of you, like a thousand photos and the must precious ones where the ones when you had been tranquil sitting on the grass chatting with panda and Toge and your underwear was at display without you noticing it.

Those were his favorite batch and his first aid kit against sleepless nights and cold showers in the middle of the night.

Remembered doing his best effort to dismiss the pang of jealousy that kidnapped him when noticed how Toge’s eyes subtly drifted down to have a peek as frequently as he took a photo.

It was demeaning and wrong to be indulging in those kind of acts towards such a close and cherished friend but you were driving him to the edge just by existing.

Yet, must admit finds some comfort in the fact that he is not the only one struggling.

To have his eyes perch on you has its advantages and those are knowing exactly when the eyes of another sorcerer hover around your figure. He could attribute it to the low number of women in the school but deep inside knew what those looks really meant because he recognized himself in them.

The hunger, the need, the temptation and your innate and blissful ignorance toward everything. It is intoxicating, making it a hard combo to ignore and that reality makes him feel less dirty and a little bit less like a perv.

The pink haired vessel can even swear he catch Megumi’s gaze glue to the back of your thighs in an occasion but when he looked again his eyes where looking ahead…so, he gave him the courtesy of doubt.

But what actually is raiding his brain to a maddening sharp end is the fact that he’s been standing immobile in front of your bed for almost forty minutes watching you sleep.

In his audacity he slip into your room, only wanted to stare at your face one more time before go to sleep but now that he is there—…is trapped and solely unable to leave. There is nothing wrong with the window he came though or the door without a lock, is only the realization he does not want to leave.

The hot weather has bless his sight with you wearing only a tiny pair of strawberries pattern panties and a white tank top which refuses to cover your breast in its totality.

Bless the thin fabric hugging your curves.

It is breathtaking privilege to be able to look at you in such a state of relaxation, it almost makes him sigh out loud.

Touch her, she wont mind… a familiar voice whispers in the back of his head. She is deep asleep, Yuji, wont even be the wiser if you let your hand skim over her legs…Certain curse insisted.

Stop being a pussy, boy! And touch her already!

“Shut up.” The confused boy curses quietly to his other half. Yuji can feel his heart beating out of his chest.

Thump, thump, thump.

His pulse is drumming in his neck, hands hang limp by his sides, fists clench and unclench as a recently acquired nervous tic.

We both know what you are thinking, Yuji–…You been driving me crazy with all your hesitation and damsel sighing, you fucking wimp! Stop ignoring me, brat!...If you want I’ll even pretend it is ME who forces your hand.

The curse teases, wickedly, knowing exactly were to press and when to let go to obtain his price.

“This is wrong-g…” the pink haired boy stammers beginning to feel cornered.

What is wrong is to be this frustrated–you pathetic, pampered human.

Yuji’s lack of response send the king of curses a silent warning of the reluctance of his vessel. Forcing the immortal to change his tactic to break his will.

If you lend me control—

“No, fucking way–”

Just hear me out, fucking brat! If you lend me control I can submerge her into deep, catatonic sleep till the sun rises. He generously offers and his ruse is rewarded with his host pondering it. It’s a simple enough curse I can perform in the blink of an eye—

“If I let you loose, you’ll hurt her…” Yuji argues keeping his voice a raspy whisper, imperturbable gaze fix in your pleasantly rising breast. “I wont take that chance.”

Not even one hand…? Sukuna teases, sharp smirk peeking out from Yuji’s left cheek. Only lend me control of one hand and I’ll perform the curse and let you be to play all your sick fantasies in the flesh…

Yuji is looking for the trap, the deceit and lies behind his offer but his heavily clouded thoughts don’t let him think straight. The image you present in front of him is devastatingly tempting and infuriatingly irrefutable now that Sukuna offers him a way to be near you without consequences.

To let his growing necessities be satiated by your peaceful and numb self. He’ll be gentle, he swears.

Maybe just one touch wont hurt. He is not releasing Sukuna just lending him one hand and in the way freeing himself from his infatuation with you.

Yuji truly believes if he is able to play some of the heated scenarios raiding his mind, he’ll free his head from those thoughts cause it is just a whim. A vicious whim which refuses to part ways with him.

He does no understands why you rule his every thought, why his stomach feels like butterflies flying inside, why your eyes seem to look direct into his soul.

Maybe just a touch wont hurt anyone, you wont know and he wont tell.

If by chance we get caught…you can blame it on me. Sukuna’s teeth shine reflecting the light of the full moon trespassing through the open window, sharp and sinister stretched grin deforming the pink haired boy’s face. Yuji this is my last offer…take it or leave it, brat!

Yuji has made his mind and in deliberated firm and quiet steps reaches the door, he glances back at your peaceful and vulnerable form and a long, heavy sigh abandons his lips as his hand hugs the doorknob for a minute too long before lock it.

Good boy. The curse thinks pleasantly surprised. He just needs one hand to guide his most diabolic intentions into your vulnerable core. Stupid and horny, brat! Finally he’ll be of some use.

Muting his real intentions towards this night, he smoothly advices. Go on, let me work my magic.

The boy hesitates one last moment pondering between good and wrong, when suddenly you moan in your sleep and rolling over your back a nipple emerges like a close bud from under the frail and thin layer of snow that knows that summer is here.

Big light-brown eyes fall in trance at how you create such a fragile and lewd symphony just be laying peacefully sleep under the pale rays of moonlight and Sukuna feels how the boy grants control of his left hand.

One hard nipple and this boy is about to blow all over his pants, how pathetic. The king snickers and testing his rule over the limb, closes his fist before ordering.

I need to be closer to be able to touch–

“I want to be the first to touch her.” The boy quickly interjects cutting Sukuna midsentence as a deep blush spreads through his cheeks.

Sukuna laughs on the inside at how touch deprived this boy is but this time can relate to the feeling, for he is aching for pussy as well.

You’ll be the first, stupid brat, after all this is your hand. The king of curses says in a condescending tone, fanning the hand in question in front of the pink haired vessel’s face.

“I g-guess is ok, then.” Yuji pouts and begins to close the distance until his hand hovers over your face.

Sukuna places his thumb over your forehead, lightly and a small glint makes you sigh out loud before your body turns limp as a boneless fish.

Tada! Sukuna boasts, gloating at how Yuji immediately uses his other hand and shakes your body to test the efficiency of the curse.

The boy gently pinches your arm and waits for a reaction and earning none, squeezes your cheeks until your lips form an o-shape, a light grin ghosts over his lips when you stay imperturbably sleep, now he truly feels free to plunge into your skin.

His heart races at the possibilities. Too nervous, he sits on the side of the bed and allows his palm to tenderly graze the side of your uncovered breast just to feel the roundness against his fingertips but is not prepare to the soft, firmness that receives him. A shaky breath leaves his lips and growing hasty, carefully slips you out of your thin tank top in a swift motion which makes your breast freely bounce without the fabric on the way.

Most certainly is not ready to behold your perky breast at full display.

Shit! This girl has a nice rack, who would have guessed you had such good taste in women. Sukuna voices and his possessed hand lands placidly over your left mound and to Yuji’s horror, squeezes hard until the plump flesh is slipping in between his rough fingers and his long, black nails are about to break the skin.

“Knock it off! You are going to hurt her.” Yuji is quick to snatch the borrowed hand by the wrist and the curse opens his fingers.

Oh, I see…you just want me as audience to clap at your performance. He spats, amused. Well, I’m not giving you the hand back… so, take this as your first lesson at sharing.

Pulling the limb out of Yuji’s grasp, Sukuna hooks the index finger in one strap of your panties and without ceremony drags the fabric down your bare legs earning a soft groan from your parted lips.

The pink haired boy is about to reach for the rebel hand when your glistening pussy claims his entire attention. A look of pure lust gleams in his brown eyes and Sukuna seizes his chance to change positions.

His mouth materializes in front of the borrowed open palm and his tongue darts out to give a tentative lick to your engorged lips.

Your body unwittingly trembles and his smirk grows feral.

Lost for words, Yuji glances back at your face when you emit the most sensual little gasp and your body begins to squirm under the king of curses ministrations. His large, fat tongue is licking you like a freshly open lollipop and his saliva is coating your pink lips, each lick delivered with such precision it looks almost painful to bear.

Coming out of the daze, Yuji launches for his hand and unplucks Sukuna’s eager lapping tongue from your wet core.

“I said stop, dammit!”

Agh! What now, human!? He chastises, annoyed at the interruption. It’s pretty obvious you are a vulgar virgin who doesn’t know shit about properly touching a woman…so, pay attention and you may even learn something.

“I’m done with your silver tongue for one night, Sukuna, give me back my hand!” he mutters, angrily.

The moment I give you your fucking hand back her eyes will open wide awake, shitty brat, we have a deal!…I keep her complacent and you lend me a hand…easy peasy! Now stop ruining my fun and get your own!

Yuji feels against the wall and the blade. If you ever find out what he is doing, you’ll hate him and surely never talk to him again. His heart aches just thinking about it and the curse sharing his body senses the fear running through the vessel’s veins.

Too bad, someone is obnoxiously in love…he thinks, patronizingly and knits some dark suggestions for the inexpert boy to follow. He will have his fun but apparently only if this brat stops interrupting.

Tell me, brat, have you ever tasted pussy? He asks, bluntly and Yuji’s face turns as pink as his hair, giving him away.

“Ah-hh…That’s not of your-r business–”

So, no! I can already guess that you haven't done anything fun, you've probably just held her hand for a minute before imploding in your pants. His burst of laughter is cruel but thankfully is short as well.

Unfortunately, I’m a captive witness of how many times you jerk yourself off with this girl’s name as your mantra but what I’m really curious about…Sukuna pauses to transfer his mouth to Yuji’s chest and uses the borrowed hand to held his chin before continue.

…Why are you wasting precious time fighting me when you can have her at your expenses. Fuck her mouth, cum all over her tits, wrap her hand around your cock and make her pump you until you burst—for all I care. Just let me have a little fun, that’s fair deal, isn’t it?

The king of manipulators knew how to pull the strings of temptation fairly well and on purpose had left your cunt out of the proposals, he wanted to enjoy it before the boy destroyed it.

Yuji thinks it through, he may never have another chance to be this near, your so vulnerable like a unwrapped gift waiting for him to claim it. He wants to make you feel as good as you make him feel just by merely breath.

Glancing at your nude figure his crotch sharply awakes to remind him of his promise of release and feeling his heart skip a beat, you stir trashing a little in your sleep and accidentally your hand gently falls on top of his and the pink haired shaman’s will melts like an ice cream under the warm rays of sun.

“Fine-” gulps. “Just promise me you wont hurt her.”

Hurt you? You were going to cum so many times it will hurt but in a good way. But of course that is not what comes out of his mouth. Sarcastically putting his borrowed hand over Yuji’s chest he crosses the boy’s heart. I cross your heart not to hurt her.

Yuji knit his brows at his taunting and Sukuna lazily adds. You know what I mean, princess, don’t be so touchy.

Sharply exhaling air through his nostrils, Yuji releases his wrist and hesitantly, his focus returns to you. His left hand goes out of his line of vision and his eyes widen in awe finally being able to truly admire how pretty you look all relaxed and naked, the moon light washing your nipples and producing a stark contrast with your skin.

In all honesty, Yuji feels spellbound.

Sukuna’s vessel delicately hovers over your sleeping face and gulping, timidly closes the distance until your parted lips are captured by the eager boy in the most slow and devoted kiss anyone could have ever deliver, its intimate and well-thought.

This lip lock is devastatingly tender and meaningful, the way his tongue dances inside your wet mouth ignites your pussy creating new puddles of flavor to the delight of the king of curses furiously lapping at your folds.

Slurp sounds are easily suffocated by the loud moans the pink haired boy emits and separating for sweet air, halts to admire your swollen mouth glistening with his saliva. Feels himself start to loose control and his innocent intentions rapidly turn carnal.

Yuji wants to cover each patch of your soft skin with his fluids, Sukuma was right…he needs to cum on your tits, fuck your mouth and jerk off with your warm palm but he lacks time.

So, he’ll choose his poison for the night and seals your lips for himself with a greedy kiss. His hand gropes your mounds of flesh and relishes in the softness of your bare skin, it feels like silk under his fingertips and it gives him the final push he needs to lose what little restrain he held.

Quickly stripping from his suffocating clothes, he gets back on the bed and hauls your limp body until fits nicely flush to his, skin to skin contact, Yuji takes a moment to enjoy the body heat your proximity produces and taking your arm, gently bends it around his neck for your nipples to greet his face.

Bashfulness is overshadowed by his arousal and he plops the soft flesh into his mouth, devouring your nipples with tentative licks, plunging the hardened nub to tease it with his tongue.

Enthralled forgets about everything and rejoices at how your nipple gets harder and harder the better he sucks, greedily pumping your delicate mound up and down like a newborn.

The king of curses delivers you a third orgasm which shakes your whole body in your tender sleep and opening a diabolic eye is amused out of his mind when sees the supposedly harmless virgin sucking at your nipple as if his life depends on it.

You should try it when there’s milk. His comment is left ignore in the air, for Yuji is willingly slaved by you. Only you exist for him.

Your cunt is trembling from exertion and Sukuna feels satisfied for the moment. He has eat you out like a ravenous beast, almost obsessing with the way your folds twitch and quiver as your juices soak his mouth and now you deserved a well earned rest.

Now you just need to unplug the boy sat on top of your ribcage, straddling you, one hand wrapped around your breast while greedily tries to hump your tits.

The eager teen has change position and his throbbing cock is nested in between your mounds but his task is left incomplete at the lack of pressure.

“Sukuna give me back my hand, I need it!” His voice sounds thick and heavy with want, highly different from his usual merry and easygoing tune.

The vessel is lost on his own pleasure and desperate for release. The curse notes, seeing an opening. Why would I do that, brat? what's there for me? He inquires, sharp eye fixed on his vessel’s back as his body bluntly straddles your torso.

“Hurry up, I want to cum before dawn.” Yuji heaves, truly in despair, throbbing dick unattended and leaking precum. “Please, I need to–”

Cum? Yes, I heard you the first time, brat…be smart and make it good for me. Lets make a deal. He suggests, taking pleasure on the way Yuji’s body desperately squirms on top of you.

“No fucking way!” he curses out loud to then. “—What do you want?”

I want more than a hand, next time. He simply asks.

“There is not going to be a next time–”

Sure, Yuji, sure…but we both know there is going to be and I want more than a hand, you selfish bastard.

“How much more?”

We can deal with that next time…sun is rising you ought to answer fast. The curse teases, sadistic tone hanging from his wicked lips. Tic, tac, tic, tac!

“Fine! Just give me a hand.” The pink haired boy is so lost to despair that he misses his poor choice of words and Sukuna is fast to take advantage.

With pleasure. His voice is raspy and cruel as he engulfs your breast inside his big calloused palm, harsh fingers wrap around its plumpness and his mouth materializes in front of the palm once again to let his tongue swirl your hardened nub.

Yuji sees him lapping at you and even not being a fan of what he is looking at, right now is more occupied using the hand to create pressure around his shaft.

A long, husky groan escapes his throat at the warmth and he starts to pump himself between your abused flesh. Your breast is so perfect for pressing together, creating a delicious massage around his cock.

Eyelids shut and mouth hanging open he can feel himself close, slowly building his orgasm to blow his thick cum all over your face.

“Please (y/n), be mine-e… I need you–… please, stop ignoring me!”

In desperate moans and ravenous speed, his heavy balls tense before his load paints your face with musky ribbons of cum. The boy rides the last sparks of pleasure ripping through his body and his panting chest begins to ease, fresh air fills his lungs, slowly and heartbeat relaxes into a peaceful drum.

Lost in the white state of peace can hear Sukuna’s voice yet his eyes remain close.

Phew! Even I must congratulate you, brat, you made a mess out of your precious darling! The curse mockingly laughs at the image.

You were a real, eye-piercing mess, face dripping with fresh cum, breast glistening from layers of saliva, exposed and abused cunt trembling from overuse. It was a captivating scene for the curse, who thought his vessel was a weak little shit but might be mistaken.

Aiming for the grand finale for their first wicked act–lets hope the kid has the balls for many more. Sukuna’s borrow finger starts collecting beads of cum to plunge it gently inside your parted lips letting the thick milk coat your tongue and slip down your throat.

Yuji’s eyes pop open at the motion and marveled by the filthy action, let the curse feed you his cum until your face is almost clean.

Dawn is upon them and profusely cleaning and making sure to leave your clothes exactly how he found them, the pink haired boy steals one last tender kiss before leave your sore and unknowingly, violated self to rest.

Maybe Sukuna is right and this can be an often occurrence, he wants to memorize all your little bumps, beautiful scars and learn to play you like a violin.

After all, he has to be ready for when you decide to realize that you belong to him and only him.

➡️ JJK NSFW ART

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writingbyshiloh · 3 months

Text

Who Fell First vs. Who Fell Harder, ft. The Boys

Featuring: Butcher, Hughie, and Frenchie

WC: 500

CW: General The Boys world, confessions, fluff etc

AN: Struggled on the parts for my girl Kimiko and MM so I had to leave them out. Mon ange means my angel, no beta

Billy Butcher - Butcher knows how you feel about him. It’s hard not to see the way you look at him after a few too many beers, and how you care about Ryan. How you frown and scrunch your brows together when he comes back hurt and you treat his wounds first. But it’s dangerous. Hunting down supes and his morals makes it hard for him to imagine a life with you. Butcher doesn’t even venture into the possibility that he could like, let alone love someone, in case they leave him or worse, die. He realizes his feelings when you get injured in the field. As Butcher wipes blood from your nose he can’t help but admire how pretty you are that all of his feelings hit him at once. And he knows he's fucked.

Hughie Campbell - Hughie knows he is in over his head. He can’t even handle half the stuff Butcher does let alone take good care of himself. But you think he's so cute and smart, it’s hard to not be a little in love with him. Your feelings only grow the longer he's on the team, becoming more confident in himself and his capabilities. You’re in love with him but it doesn’t hurt unless you really think about it. Hughie is focused on surviving, not wondering why his pretty teammate always goes out of the way to help him, even at his lowest. Hughie comes to his feelings about you at the WORST possible time. Arms poised, ready to shoot a gun (with improper technique but if you both live then you can teach him later), his feelings bubble up to the surface and he blurts out how deeply he loves you, while you're both trying not to get shot.

Frenchie - Frenchie falls first. He assumes it’s lust and that one night with you would get it out of his system. He swears to MM that one night is all he needs, a man can’t be tied down, right? Until it becomes two until it’s three. Until it morphs into a friendship. Even after sleeping with you three times, your pretty smile still sends his heart reeling. You just think he’s being sweet, giving you French pet names that make you smile, letting you choose what show for the both of you to watch. It happens one night, both of you practically sitting on top of each other to watch your favourite show, and it hits you. You’re in love with your best friend. And you need to let him know immediately. Tipping your head back against his shoulder, you catch his eyes.

“Frenchie?” you ask softly

“Oui, mon ange?”

“I want to kiss you.” You tip your head back against his neck to look at his eyes, then his lips. They curve into a small smile. You can’t help yourself, overcome with emotion that you twist and manoeuvre Frenchie until he is flat on his back and you’re lying on his chest.

“You have already, mon ange. We’ve done a lot more than that,” he says, one hand coming up to stroke your face and the other on your back.

“Yeah, but I love you.”

#sorry if it is hard to read it is very ... um.... pink <3 #billy butcher x reader #butcher x reader #hughie x reader #hughie campbell x reader #frenchie x reader #the boys x reader #x reader #reader insert #WERE SO BACK BABYYYYYYYY I have more butcher stuff in the works too

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tokkosoap · 3 months

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X-men but foods

I got this idea at like 10 pm yesterday and spent ages drawing them all so have fun(some of the foods make sense, some were just cus they looked cool)

List if anyones curious:

Logan:Durian(stinky spikey man)

Scott and Jean: Cherries

Remy: Dragonfruit

Rogue: Coconut

Kurt: Blueberry

Jubilee: Pop rocks(specifically bubblegum)

Morph: Yellow pear

Storm: Star fruit

Cable: Mangosteen

Hank: Blue plum

Ft jean and Scott connected

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beaunoor · 3 months

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nsfw drabble

“Face the wall brat.”

Your half turned face morphs into a frown at his words, and you let out a needy whine. It was your own fault for getting into this situation after all.

“You just had to give me attitude, after everything I do for you huh?” His big hand gives your ass cheek a slap, “Keep moving.”

You reposition yourself on his lap, facing forward once again, hands settling on his shins and leaning forward to keep moving your hips up and down on his cock. You wanted to watch his reactions so bad. You could only let out another whine at how much work you had to put in. You wanted him to put in work too, this wasn’t fair.

Your hips, getting tired, slowed down its rhythm and settled for a deep grind on his pelvis, his crotch providing stimulation to your labia. Grinding back and forth lazily, your breath becomes ragged as the hint of your high presents itself. And of course he notices; he knows what every sign means for your body. He eyes your back side, carefully watching you twitch before a hand comes down to slide up your calf and squeeze.

“Uh uh, enough of the easy work. Keep moving those hips up and down. Remember this isn’t for you, this is for me. Let me see my pussy show how she appreciates me.” His command in that deep voice makes you shake as you obey his words and retreat back to lifting your hips and dropping them down hard again in his lap.

He grips both ass cheeks, lifting up your fat to watch himself go in and out of your tight cunt. Your cream dripping down his dick has him groaning and closing his eyes for a second.

“Just like that baby, good girl.”

----

ft. your favs

#aina’s thoughts and writings #x reader #jjk smut #aot smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #aot x reader smut #haikyuu x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader smut #smut drabble #bllk smut #blue lock x reader smut #mha smut #mha x reader smut #haikyuu smut #castlevania smut #ror smut #one piece x reader smut

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whoskimii · 1 month

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I'M HERE !

★ comfort after a nightmare ft. geto, megumi, yuuji ! ★ (2)

˗ˏˋ geto suguru ´ˎ˗

“you know, i—” suguru cut himself off as he froze, watching the serene surroundings begin to twist. “mhm ?” you smiled, tilting your head. “what were you about to say, sugu' ?” your voice slowly became distorted.

he watched in horror as you morphed into a curse, the creature closing in on you. a terrific, grotesque smile appeared on your usually pretty face. suddenly, your expression was replaced by an exaggerated sad one. “what ? you don't find me... pretty anymore ?” you tilted your head.

he tried to reach out to you but his feet were heavy, glued to the ground, almost like he was wading through thick mud. no matter how hard he struggled, he didn't make it in time. the monster took a toll on your body.

he felt weak. useless.

you have always been sweet, but as the curse surrounded you, its malevolent energy suffocated you. “why didn't you save me, suguru ?” the vulgar curse played with his mind, his ears no longer filled by your gentle voice but by the curse's. “you were no better than them, after all.” he whispered, rage filling his being as he thought about all the non-sorcerers he despised. maybe it was a sign. he could never love a non-sorcerer.

why would you ever be different ?

suguru gasped as he jolted awake. his sweaty chest heaved up and down rapidly, his brain still replaying the nightmare over and over again. even after waking up, it haunted him.

he glanced over his shoulder, searching for your peaceful form. you were sleeping, snuggly wrapped in a warm, comfy blanket. he ran a hand over his face, attempting to calm down his breathing by taking deep, slow breaths. “a nightmare...” he sighed. “it was just a nightmare.” he tried to reassure himself.

he slowly laid back down, rolling on his side to face you. he observed your relaxed features before tracing your lips with his purple orbs. he lifted his right hand and caressed your cheek.

at his touch, you instinctively stirred awake. your pretty eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. “sugu' ?” you managed to mumble. “yeah, it's me...” you snuggled into his side, which prompted him to wrap his arms around you.

even after long minutes, he struggled to find solace.

“i had a nightmare. about you.” he blurted, hoping to find peace after he admitted it. you lifted your head, searching for his eyes but he kept his chin on top of your hair. “you were... a curse. i didn't save you. i'm sorry.”

it was silly to apologize for a simple nightmare but he still felt the need to. “it was just a nightmare... 'm still here. i love you, suguru.” your words brought him the peace he had been craving since he woke up. “i love you too. more than you'll ever know.”

you were different.

˗ˏˋ fushiguro megumi ´ˎ˗

he couldn't even remember how he ended up here. or why. but megumi didn't care. he knew you were also here, he knew how dangerous it was for you, a non-sorcerer.

he ran through the endless forest, desperately searching for you. the trees loomed tall and menacing, making his search more complicated than he wanted. the only sounds filling his ears were his own ragged breathing and your distant pleas for help as you called out for him.

the more he ran towards the direction of your cries, the more he felt like he was getting further and further away from you. no matter how fast he ran, he could never quite catch up. the forest seemed to shift and change, the path twisting in on itself, leading him in continual, maddening circles.

suddenly, he burst into a clearing, only to find his darling surrounded by a group of curses. “megumi...” you whispered, desperate to be saved.

you were terrified.

just the sight made his throat tighten.

he attempted to run towards you as he looked into your eyes filled with despair. his mind was overwhelmed by the fact that he couldn't move. he couldn't do anything except watch as the curses taunted him for being too weak to protect you. his hands trembled as he tried to summon his shikigami but they didn't respond.

finally, you called out his name one last time before being entirely consumed by the creatures. everything faded to black and—

he jumped awake. he looked around, panicked, before realizing that he was in his room. he instinctively looked to his side and saw you, pretty lips slightly parted as soft breaths left you.

he sighed heavily and let himself fall on the mattress. as his back hit the bed, you woke up groggily. “mhm... 'gumi ?” you rubbed your eyes. he cringed internally, cursing at himself for waking you up. “yeah... yeah. sorry.” he breathed. you propped your head on your hand, staring at him with heavy eyelids. megumi could feel your gaze on him. you could easily sense that something was wrong.

“i had a nightmare.” he said before you could even question him. “these curses were around you and... you...” he sighed and rubbed his face. “shit...” he cursed, unable to say more. “hey...” you whispered and straddled him. his hands flew to your waist. “i'm here, 'gumi. forget about that stupid nightmare, okay ?” he hummed. “easier said than done.”

you leaned down and planted a kiss on his lips. “and now ?” he closed his eyes. “i think... i'll be able to forget about it if you keep going.”

˗ˏˋ itadori yuuji ´ˎ˗

“how does it taste ?” he smiled as he watched you sip on the milkshake he just paid for you. “good !” you beamed.

you two were walking through a quiet park. the world seemed safe and warm. for a moment, yuuji felt at peace. but the lovely moment was quickly ended by a cold presence.

as if on cue, the sky darkened and the warmth of the sunny day faded. you could also sense the sudden change in atmosphere as you looked around with growing fear. yuuji felt a sharp pain in his chest, almost as if something was trying to break free from within him.

sukuna.

the teen's eyes widened at the painful realization.

just a second after, he was no longer in control of his own body. he felt himself being overtaken by the king of curses.

of course he attempted to fight back. of course he wished to keep you safe and sound. but of course it was no use as his vision began getting blurred.

and when it cleared again, his worst nightmare laid before him.

there you were, on the ground. you were injured and you looked up at him, your eyes filled with pure fear. he couldn't believe it. it was the first time you looked at him like that.

blood stained the ground around you. your blood. he glanced down at his hands.

his hands were covered in your blood.

he wanted to speak, to reassure you that everything would be okay and that it wasn't him but the only thing that came out was sukuna's voice as he mocked him for his weakness.

suddenly, he woke up in a cold sweat. the nightmare left him with an undeniable sense of guilt.

the darkness within him could potentially hurt his loved ones. it could harm you.

as he looked to his side, he noticed that you were already awake. “baby...? what... go back to sleep—” he didn't have time to finish his sentence. “are you okay ? you had a nightmare, didn't you...? i woke up because you were calling my name.”

he couldn't lie to you.

“i did... i don't wanna talk about it.” he leaned down and kissed your forehead before wrapping his arms around you. his priority was to keep you safe, at all costs. no matter what. “you sure you don't want to...?” you cupped his cheeks. he placed his hand above yours and smiled faintly. “i'm sure.” he whispered. “you don't need to know about it.” you only hummed, not wanting to push it further. “okay...”

he caressed your neck with the tip of his nose, enjoying how soft and warm you were. “i love you, angel. always.” your pinkie met his. “always...”

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megamassikalove · 1 month

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4t2 Lovestruck (EP16) Hearts furniture

From the new pack:

Loveseat - poly: 494, § 225

Chair - poly: 363, § 375

Herbert Heart (deco pluche) - poly: 462, § 100

Books (works as bookcase) - poly: 307, § 165

Endtable - poly: 408, § 150

Repo'd coffeetable - poly: 332, § 150

Added slots to tables, seating has morphs, books need FT, all, except pluche, have two subsets. You'll need the LC Sims4shadowfile for shadows to work (included). Swatches included.

DOWNLOAD SFS

#ts2cc #4t2 conversion #download: objects

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kuroosdarling · 1 year

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POSITIONS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. sanji vinsmoke !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : sanji always liked missionary, but he was eager to broaden his horizons with you once you give him a proper taste.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. brief mention of blood (this man & his nosebleeds) mentions of creampie, overall vanilla sex — wc : 500 words

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : starting to post my fics that are just sitting in my drafts. i asked risu which character to post first and here we are with sanji <33 enjoy !!

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)♡*.ﾟ

sanji always loved to take you in missionary. there was something so special to him about seeing your pretty face, slotting his body on top of yours and being as close as possible.

loved pressing his forehead against yours to gaze into your eyes. or better yet, when you carefully push back his slightly damp bangs out of his eyes so you could see his face better.

loved to wrap his arms behind your back, pulling you towards him to press your chests together — utterly driving him insane when he feels your nipples brushing against his.

above all, he loved seeing your precious face. intently watching each beautiful expression morph into bliss as he drove you closer to your pleasure, using your reactions to guide his way there for you.

but one day, you insist on changing positions.

he wasn’t so sure, in fact, he hasn’t ever done anything besides missionary so he didn’t even know how to go about it. but luckily, he had you to show him the way.

it started when you climbed into his lap, effectively kickstarting his old habits. after the initial gush of blood coming out of his nose and a few overly enthusiastic compliments — he simmered back down the moment you slid down on his cock.

it took him a second to try to not come instantly, but the way you were perched up in his lap, your chest directly in front of his face, your hands delicately resting on his shoulders — he couldn’t help it.

but he always had so much more to give you.

he soon realized that maybe new positions were a good thing. a different way for him to worship and love your body. his tongue running all over your chest, circling around your nipples as you bounced on his cock.

it was truly heaven watching you use him to get yourself off. your soft mewls fired up his core, driving his hips up further to meet yours. there was no way he’d want to stop having you like this. it might have even taken over as his new favorite position.

but something else overcomes him when he has you on all fours. the way you look so beautiful presenting yourself for him has his mind going drunk with satisfaction.

knowing that only he could ever have you like this, driving himself further into your warm cunt, deeper than he has ever gone — has him losing his control.

he’s still sweet, but there’s an edge to it now. his hips erratically snapping against you. he feels so high, so overwhelmed with the control you graciously gave him.

it’ll even have him reaching over to take one of his cigarettes, smoking it while his thrusts never falter. the view he has is one of the best ones he’s ever seen. screw the all blue, this right here was his life’s dream.

being able to admire your body from any angle is a new game he adamantly wants to play. so expect him to try and throw you in any position at any time. he has a lot of new things he wants to explore now that he knows how willing you are to help him.

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#sanji vinsmoke #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut

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faerieomenart · 9 days

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An X-men sketch dump (ft. older doodles of myself idk idk). :)) Of course Kurt makes the most appearances. My fav doodle is probably sleepy Kurt in the second sketch page. This was when I was drawing him as a silly guy because later I try something else and idk if it works out lol.

Gave Jubilee some dimple piercings!! and ofc Kurt has one ear pierced. Also more shirtless Gambit doodles coming soon. Thank you X-men 97 for Morph and Logan, and the comics for Kurt and Logan also. I wish I would've added Ororo to the banter buddies, purely because I know she'd be lovingly roasting them alive. We love her. <3

I'm truthfully not happy with many of these doodles, but I'm posting them anyway, because I need to share my love for the X-men right now!! I feel like I'm going insane aisjisjis.

Idk when I finished these rip lol.

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mechaknight-98 · 7 months

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Empress (NSFW) Ft: Eunbi and Hyewon

You see the door slam open and close to the restroom where you were currently taking a Buble bath with Hyewon. when Eunbi announced to you and Hyewon (who were sharing a chaste moment) that she wanted to become a Villain. Hyewon and you look at each other and then at Eunbi

“I hesitate to ask but where is this coming from dear?” you ask

“The hero association wants to fine me for my costume. Something about being too sexually provocative.” Eunbi bemoaned and whined

you squinted at her knowing this was going to be a thing and then asked “Okay can I see your costume?” Eunbi still flustered and frustrated nodded. She does the famous Carter twirl and her costume magically appears, and shit Eunbi’s costume is too sexy. it's tight. her breasts are barely contained by the top section, they are exposed by your least favorite, but also favorite costume choice, the boob window. You and Hyewon look at each other hungry with lust then back at Eunbi who stands proud. Her thick thighs sparkle in the low light of the bathroom you three found yourselves in. Hyewon and you share mental images of what you’d do to her. Hyewon doesn’t let you see her plans for you though.

“Fuck Eunbi if that's what you wear to fights every day I would never fight you. I'd be too busy drooling trying to get your number. You look fucking hot. Like damn girl.” you blurt out admiring the killer way the costume fits her diminutive but voluptuous body. It's hard to resist the urge to fuck her then and there. She frowns and you remember why you were there.

“That being said, I also agree it's bullshit the heroes association I'd fine you for that especially since they had to okay it in the first place. you do give off dominatrix vibes with the tightness of it all, and dual chromatic color scheme,” you say. Eunbi and Hyewon laugh as Eunbi does another Carter twirl and joins the two of you in the tub.

“Ooh still hot,” Eunbi says with a content smile as she slides in.

“Yeah, our boyfriend’s power comes in handy with keeping things heated.” Hyewon coos. Eunbi nods in agreement and leans back in the tub content. You all sit around. You try to hide your furious erection as your body reacts violently to fuck both of your hot girlfriends till they can't walk.

“So what were you guys doing before I got home?” Eunbi asked

Hyewon smirked, “This.” she jumped from her side of the tub to you and began forcibly kissing you.

“Mistress wants to come out baby is that okay?”

You moan as she grinds on top of your manhood with her folds.

“Yes.” You moan to her. Hyewon smiles as she runs her hands through her long black hair and looks at Eunbi and you.

“You’ll be a good boy and do what I tell you right?” Hyewon asks with a voice made husky by her own just and arousal. You nod in submission to your girlfriend.

“Good boy.” she moans as she gets up from you. “Don’t touch yourself yet,” Hyewon says firmly as her body begins to morph. Her breast swell to be parallel with Eunbi, and a cock begins to grow between her legs. Hyewon smiles at you as she strokes her cock. Your erection can barely be contained in your pants as you watch Eunbi and Hyewon lock eyes with each other you watch as Hyewon oogles your shared girlfriend she bends down and smiles at you as she plunges into her unnie.

“Oh fuck.” Eunbi moans as the familiar sensation of being stretched out by Hyewon’s cock fills her. You watch in overwhelmed arousal and lust. You knew Hyewon could shapeshift but never knew the limits. Hyewon cooed as she bottomed out in Eunbi.

“I forgot how good your dick felt.” Eunbi mewled to Hyewon. Hyewon begins to thrust into her unnie in earnest. Her girth slides easily out of the almost perpetually sopping elder. Trying to keep your cool you ask if Hyewon needs anything figuring she may want some alone time with Eunbi.

“No stay there and watch like a good boy.” Hyewon demands. You watch as they continue to rut into each other the rhythmic bouncing of breasts and other buoyant flesh drives your desires wild, and uncomfortable. Overlord loomed in your mind hungry watching the show. He wanted no needed a taste of it, but you sat there being the good boy you were holding it all in. Hyewon knew this of course and wanted to test how far she could go. She loved all of you and didn’t like how you would parse yourself out to the world. Every part of you was worthy of love and affection. Even the parts you hid from others because of the fear of isolation. You spread your legs so your dick can fly free and proud watching his two favorite people go at it in a way unfamiliar to you. You watched as Eunbi was reduced to slutty mess.

“Will mommy be good to her mistress,” Hyewon asked as she continued fucking Eunbi.

“Yes, Mommy will be good to her mistress,” Eunbi said between pants.

“Will mommy be good and let me fuck her big tits?” Hyewon asked desperately. Eunbi nodded in between blissful moans. Hyewon smiled as she pulled out of the older woman. She sets her large cock on the woman’s chest and Eunbi started morning again. You watched in horny agony as Eunbi’s breast massaged Hyewon’s cock. It drives you wild you can’t even touch yourself for relief but just watch and dripping Precum as your body fights its urges. You stare at the lewd scene as Hyewon whispers more lewd statements into your mind.

“Isn’t mommy gorgeous with my cock between her tits begging to unload all of her face and breasts?” You hear telepathically. As she touches her mind you can feel her “touch” next to the overlord’s lock. You feel her brush against it and you jolt violently as your psyche rends itself trying to calm down. Hyewon stops chasing her pleasure hearing what essentially sounds like a psychic wail out from you. She looks at you with eyes full of concern.

“Babe what’s wrong,” Hyewon asks as your mind fractures and reassembles itself, and then it happens your mental lock breaks. the separation between Overlord and you. Your mind is overwhelmed as emotions thoughts and impulses flood, mix, and overflow, as they try to reassemble you as a whole. When the head rush subsidies you look at your two girlfriends with a wicked grin. Hyewon looks into your mind and sees the dam has broken between your psyche. She looks at you worried.

“What's wrong dear I thought this is wanted.” You say as your voice creates a more rounded yet somehow deeply sinister tone. Eunbi is still out of it as you stand before Hyewon. Hyewon looks at you in terror but there’s something else there… arousal. You can smell it as she stares into your eyes. In the reflection of her eyes, you see your sclera has turned fully black with a red ring. You blink and breathe in.

You crack your back and tilt your head to the left, “So are we going to fuck or are you just going to continue to tease me?” You ask with a labored voice. Hyewon is transfixed and stupefied by your both menacing and calming aura. You walk over to her and lift her face to yours before pulling her in for a kiss.

You grab Hyewon’s cock and begin to stroke it. As you kiss her you grope her breasts with one hand and stroke her off with another. She mewls as the pleasure gets to her leaving her overwhelmed. Her body leans into yours and she tenses in your touch. She’s close you can feel it in her twitches. “Babe stop I’m about to ahh.” She says as messy strings of semen and squirt leave her body. You continue your stimulating her through her orgasm hoping to make a mess of her. Eunbi watches in blissful oblivion. She begins to finger herself watching the two of you. You smile as Hyewon can’t stop cumming as you continued to stroke her. When her body comes down however you continue to stimulate her.

Her big brown eyes look at you in fatigued acquiescence, knowing you won’t stop until she is trapped in another orgasm. Sadly her legs give out on her. You catch her and you steady her before engaging in another torrid kiss. Hyewon greedily accepts your advances. Her hips mindlessly thrust to you as you continue stroking her. You advance your tongue into her wanton mouth. She tastes sweet like cinnamon. When you break the kiss you continue to stroke her and fondle her breast indulging in her body to your heart’s desire. Hyewon pants as her body further falls into submission to you.

“Babe please fuck me.” She begs between labored pants.

“No… well at least not yet.” You say as you continue stroking her as she lies in your arms. You kiss her passionately as Eunbi watches. Eventually, both Hyewon and Eunbi can't take it. you watch with slight amusement as Eunbi and Hyewon cum again together. Her cum flies throughout the room as her body rages out in pleasure. Hyewon groans overstimulated and raw as more cum keeps pouring out of her.

You coldly set her down in the tub, to let her relax with an equally fatigued Eunbi, and you leave to cook dinner. Hyewon begs for you to say and cum in her pussy, but you tell her. "You are not in the space to be making demands when you can't even stand for yourself." Hyewon moans and whines for you to come back, and you throw her a bone. "If you can get to me before I start dinner I will fuck you to your heart's content," you said. You watch as Hyewon tries to get up but her legs wobble and she falls again.

You finish cooking dinner in record time. when Eunbi (who is only in her bra and panties) and Hyewon (who is fully naked. She doesn't have her cock anymore.) both make it out of the tub. they are both disheveled and yet still gorgeous. you chuckle.

"Finally stable," you ask.

"Yeah. No thanks to you." Hyewon says. Eunbi smiles as she looks over at what you cooked. you hand her a bowl of chicken fried rice along with Hyewon. they sit at the table and eat ravenously.

"How did you become such a good cook?" Eunbi asks proudly her tone belies her admiration.

"Well, lots of trial and error." You respond. Eunbi smiles and takes another spoonful.

Hyewon was eerily silent as she ate, but you could tell something was on her mind. you reached out and grabbed her hand to put her at ease with affection and a smile. it was weird because while you felt the whole gambit of emotions. you still felt this odd detachment, from everything. Hyewon looked at you concerned before you felt her psychic presence reach out

“Are you okay?” She asked telepathically. You look at her and shrug

Eunbi sees the looks you and Hyewon give each other. She sees the concern in Hyewon’s face. In your face, she sees the uncertainty and confusion so she decides to speak up and in a reassuring tone says, "You know I like your eyes like that."

Hyewon and you turn to her and she says, "Yeah it suits you the black and red are both Villainous and menacing, but the brown makes them soft, which I feel is true to you. Sure you can be scary sometimes, but others you're our mild-mannered house husband." She said with a toothy grin as she took another bite. before either of you could react Eunbi said "Oh I found out my Villain's name"

"What is it Hyewon and you ask?"

"Empress" Eunbi says demonstratively.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #hyewon smut #izone hyewon #hyewon #eunbi smut #kwon eunbi #izone eunbi #izone smut #izone #male reader

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