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lesbikaiser · 6 months ago

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freak in you – s. ryusei.

wc: 4k.

cw: size, breeding and mirror kink, a tiny winy little bit of thigh riding, belly bulge, fingering, lots of spit and an abnormal amount of cum (yours and his!), squirting, dirty talk, subspace mention, literally one clit slap, reverse cowgirl → (semi) full nelson → honestly idek what position it's but he's using your body like his personal fleshlight!! reader has a pussy but no pronouns were defined ^-^ shidou is nasty, a pervy and a meanie! you get cockdrunk at some point so dumbfication!!! also dacryphilia! reader gets called small a lot so beware!

a/n: this is straight up pure smut, no plot, just filthiness!

also i always try to make reader as neutral as possible in every feature so anyone can fit in my writings but for this especially reader is shorter than shidou – nothing impossible though since he's 6'1" tall and all but anyway! other than that, there's no specifications for skin/hair/eye colors, weight or anything! hope everyone is comfortable with what i write!

the atmosphere in your bedroom is suffocating as ryusei devours your lips, you feel his hands everywhere on your body at once and they make you feel so, so hot, your panties are soaked and practically glued to your core with how wet you're, and you know shidou can feel it too when he whistles, his muscular thigh meeting your clothed cunt.

"mmh, you're dripping all over my pants, sweets." the smirk stretching his lips is audible through his tone, fingers sinking on your hips and bringing you closer to him, you can't hold back the moan bubbling up your throat at the delicious friction his muscles give your sore clit. "is it all f'me?"

"shidou..." you only get to whimper, long lost in the trance he's put you in, it's like you're intoxicated as soon as his lips touch your skin, your mind unable to formulate thoughts about anything but him and his hot kisses trailing your neck, sharp teeth nibbling on your flesh.

"that's my name, pretty." he sings, wet tongue coming out to lick a fat stripe up your collarbone, it's all too much to your poor little head – and pussy. everything is foggy, you can only focus on your boyfriend before you, legs spreading wider to give him more room between them. your hips move on their own, grinding against shidou's thighs and oh, he loves it so much, how desperate you get for him everytime he kisses you on the right spots, the shy whimpers in that sweet voice of yours are music to his ears, he wants to consume every single part of you, fill your brain with him and only him – as if he needed to.

his lips leave burning spots on your skin when he pulls away, knee pressing further onto your drooling cunt as his large hands grab your sides, a squeal erupting from your throat and your fingers grip shidou's shirt, watery eyes staring at his devious ones.

"quit teasing, ryu." his antics bring a pout to your swollen lips, he can't help but snicker at your cute face – makes him want to totally rail you.

"no need to say twice, darling." and suddenly he's pushing you against the mattress, fingers hooking on the sides of your panties and sliding them down your legs and into his pocket – but not before sniffing them heavily. oh, he's such a pervert.

his digits plunge into your pleading hole without any time for you to get used to it, you can only moan in response at the way they stretch you out, your thighs lock around his wrists, earning a smirk from him before he pries them open, watching the way your greedy cunt swallow his thick digits.

"ryu–! ryu!" his name feels like a mantra on your tongue, he's just fingering and prepping you but it already feels so deep, his skilled fingers have no trouble in finding that spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back and your hips bucking up, the way he's thumbing at your little clit, rough pad adding to your pleasure as you slowly fall apart before him.

"gonna cum already, honey bun?" his teasing tone goes straight to your core, you try and whine in retaliation but shidou knows you love it, your cunt getting impossibly wetter tells him you do. the squelching sounds of his fingers dragging against your sensitive walls are quite embarrassing – for you, at least. because your boyfriend thinks it's one of the hottest things his ears have ever been graced to hear, your cute, desperate pussy so wet for him it literally soaks his palm.

his face comes down to your breasts level, his hot tongue poking at one of your perky nipples before placing the wet muscle flat on it, lips wrapping around your soft flesh and sucking the hard bud into his mouth, the squeal you let out at the extra stimulation is so adorable he feels his dick nearly exploding.

when he pulls away from your mound, there's a string of saliva connecting his lips to your slick nub – so sensitive that the mere breeze of his breath against it makes your body twitch and a whimper escapes you. your skin burns under the boy's tongue licking up your collarbone, neck and jaw before reaching your cheek, leaving a trail of spit all over you, it feels nasty – and it makes your head spin.

you can barely process your surroundings, all the thoughts that aren't related to your boyfriend vanishing from your mind like steam, you can only think about how good his fingers make you feel, how they fill you up so well and reaches all those spots inside you that your smaller hands can't, it's like your whole body is on fire, toes curling on the mattress and thighs quivering, threatening to close but the tall man hovering over you won't let them. the coil in your stomach only tightens and tightens, you know it's about to snap at any time now, and if you do, shidou does too – you can tell by the way his thrusts speed up, fucking his fingers into your fluttering hole at an inhumane pace – because of course, that's what he's; a demon luring you into his sweet temptation.

his hand grabs your face harshly, smushing your cheeks together to force your lips into a pout, your eyes opening as you stare at him with tears pooling on them, wetting your lashes and he swears he could cum untouched, right then and there, just by watching your face twisting in such hot expressions.

his tongue itches to be inside your mouth, tasting and consuming you entirely, claiming your body and soul as his – again, as if he needed to. his lips are on yours in a blink of an eye, sharing a bruising kiss and you can only moan when his teeth tug at your bottom lip, urging you to part them open and let him explore the depths of your mouth, his tongue licking against yours makes it so messy and dirty, spit running down your chin and leaking from the corner of your lips.

at this point your brain has already turned into mush, you're drunk and dumb on the pleasure he's giving you, unable to even kiss him back, all you can do is mewl loudly against his lips. your senses are filled with shidou ryusei and only him, you don't realize when you raise your leg up and your foot presses down on his growing bulge, earning a whimper from the man above you.

"heh, playing dirty now aren't we, sweets?" he mumbles, lips swollen and shiny brushing against yours as he speaks, tone giving away how much he yearns for you.

your desperation is so palpable he can taste it, your nails scratch his biceps to try and ground yourself when his wrist touches your denied clit along with his fingers pinching your nipple, shock waves running through your whole body making it tremble, your back arching off the bed when it gets too much for you to handle, the tight knot in your stomach loosening up and you cum so hard your vision goes white for a moment, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“that's it, make a mess for me.” his voice affects you like some kind of spell, your cunt gushing out more and more of your cum onto his palm, the bedsheets already soaked with your fluids only getting wetter and wetter as shidou keeps fucking his fingers into your hole, helping you to ride out your orgasm. “you're so fucking hot.”

the praise rolls off his tongue smoothly, going straight to your core and making you desperate for more of him, a whine ripping your throat at the sudden emptiness when he pulls his fingers out, you have no time to calm down from your high before your walls clench and beg for more, your brain not even considering that you might just break when it tells your lips to move and speak up, words leaving you so naturally.

"m–more, ryu…” your voice comes out strangled and laced with desperation, shidou's lips stretching in a wide smirk as his tongue darts out to lick them, contemplating the state you find yourself in – cheeks stained by dried tears, lips slightly parted as you try and catch your breath, eyes staring at him so sparklingly and so needy, pupils blown out and gaze overflowing with lust when yet again your foot presses down on his bulge. "wan' feel you inside."

oh, who's he to deny such a request? in one swift motion he's pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers, you can feel your mouth watering at the sight of his huge cock standing tall and proud, leaky tip looking so inviting and seeming to be calling and telling you to wrap your lips around it.

you lift your upper body off the bed, supporting on your elbows as your eyes literally ogle over your boyfriend's dick, cunt drooling and clenching around nothing feeling so empty, craving to be filled to the brim with his gooey cum.

shidou is pleased by your reactions, staring at him so dumbly and without a single thought in your head, just him and his stupidly huge cock that could easily rip you open – and it seems to be exactly what you want.

so that's what he does, hands holding your waist and hoisting you up so easily it reminds you of how bigger than you he's, how he could overpower you without any fight and literally manhandle you – just like he's doing now. in an blink of an eye he's seated down on the mattress, facing your back as you're on top of him, your fluttering pussy hovering over his sensitive tip as both of your eyes set on the mirror in front of you.

you take a few seconds to look at yourself, your skin is covered up in hickeys from your neck to your breasts – a beautiful work of art in ryusei’s opinion; lips swollen and eyes puffy from the previous tears, your hair a little disheveled and inner thighs shining with your arousal. then you move to check your boyfriend and you swear you almost cum just from the sight, his own thighs apart in a manspreading as he supports his weight with one hand on the bed, wide chest in full display – you don't even know when he took his shirt off – and that intoxicating gaze in his eyes staring directly at you, his huge frame making you look even smaller compared to him.

with shaky hands, you reach for his knees to steady yourself, eyes catching through the mirror the exact moment when shidou holds your waist with one of his hands, the other lining his dick with your entrance and you bite down on your lip in anticipation, his words giving away how eager he's.

“c’mon, hurry up and sit.” he lowers your body onto him, both of you hissing at the contact of his leaky, fat tip with your slippery cunt, even after all his preparation and the ridiculous amount of lubrication dripping down your thighs, your hole still flutters and clenches around him trying to accommodate his sheer size and you need a few seconds to get used to the stretch, you can't help the few tears pricking the corner of your eyes at how good it feels to be filled up, that familiar sensation of fullness hitting you and you're ready to start moving but then there's more.

you look down to where you two are connected, only to be met with a few inches of your boyfriend's dick still out, your pussy all stretched around him and yet there's more to go in. it can't be true, your eyes must be betraying you because you can't believe it, of course you've had him all the way in and of course you knew how massive he's but you've never tried this position – and it's ridiculous how impossibly deeper he can reach in it. your hands fly to grab his, holding onto them as you try to stop him from sinking you further down.

“w–wait, ryu.” your eyes meet through the mirror, there's clearly a scoff on his face as he stares at you with one raised brow, you can feel the way his cock is pulsating against your walls and how much he's holding back to not just fuck you dumb already. your next remark blooms a proud smirk on his lips. “you're too big! ‘s not gonna fit…”

“‘course i am, pretty. gonna make it fit and y’gonna take it like you always do, yeah?” he teases, guiding your hips to meet his pelvis and literally splitting you open on his cock, you scratch at his forearms, wiggle your ass trying to escape from his vice grip on your waist, whine for him to wait and that “‘s too much, can't take it!�� and squirm restlessly on his lap but none of these seem to stop him. he sinks you further and further down, your walls squeezing impossibly tighter around his shaft and making it no easy for him. “shit, loosen up a little f’me baby.”

you can't even make out his words, it's like you're being torn apart by his dick but god, it's amazing, the feeling too overwhelming for you to understand anything. it feels like he's in your ribs when he finally bottoms out, it feels hard to breath, a sigh making its way through his lips as he gives you an experimental thrust, watching how you'll react – but you're too light headed to complain, getting only to whine his name, head thrown on his shoulder.

his eyes trails down your limp body through the mirror, catching a glimpse of what seems to be a bulge on your belly. his fat tip rests against your cervix, you can feel the way his cock twitches and can't understand why until his fingers apply some pressure on your tummy, you whimper and immediately look down to where he's pressing, only to be met with the skin of your stomach slightly distended trying to accommodate your boyfriend's girth, and you feel dizzy.

“ehe, pussy so tiny it can barely take my dick.” he growls in your ear when your cunt starts clenching uncontrollably around him, but you can't help it. it's how he said, his cock is so huge that your pussy can't take all of it without a bulge forming on your stomach, your mind is all fogged up and you don't stop your hips from lifting before letting them down, starting to ride him lazily.

a proud, wide smirk appears on shidou's lips as he watches you struggling to move on his dick, your hands holding onto his knees to balance yourself, your arousal all over his strong thighs with how you're humping him. and you're being so damn loud, desperate moans overflowing your mouth because surprisingly it's not enough. not his dick – no, you've never felt so full in your life, but you can't seem to do it right, trying desperately to make him hit the right spot inside you.

shidou, however, is delighted, eyes fixed on how your pussy swallows him whole, your fluids forming a white ring around his base and soaking his balls, your frustrated cries reaching his ears and you sound so cute, he can't end it just now.

it doesn't take too much for you to grow tired, thighs giving out from trying and pleasure yourself, your body laying back and resting on ryusei's chest as you start to hump him pathetically, gaze finding his on the mirror and you mewl for his help, clenching your walls around his pulsating shaft and trying to convince him to fuck you.

and you look so vulnerable like this, grinding against his crotch like a bitch in heat and whining his name so helplessly, he's going crazy – feral, insane. with a sudden urgency, he's hooking his hands under your knees, pulling your legs up to your chest and exposing your stuffed pussy, his fingers gripping tightly on your thighs as he literally ogles your abused hole spamming around his length – the bulge on your tummy even more notorious now.

"woah, what a privileged view we've got here, don't y’think, sweets?" he whistles, bouncing your body experimentally on his cock and almost losing his mind with how easy he can move you, using your pussy like his personal fleshlight.

"shi– shidou–!” you yelp at his actions, feeling too ashamed to look at his face, the way he's holding you up against him with your legs wide open, cunt on full display for his hungry eyes, mirror reflecting the way his dick stretches you so well, your toes curl in the air as you paw at his hands – that's not what you meant when you asked for his help. "w–wait, ryu, this is embarrassing–!”

he doesn't listen to you – he never does. ignoring the way your nails scratch his skin, he starts bouncing you more fervorously, lifting your little frame off his cock – only the tip in – before slamming you down again, then repeating again and again and again. he's acting like an animal already, panting and grunting at your gummy, warm and tight walls rubbing against him so well, it's like you're trying to milk him with how much you're clenching, high-pitched moans spilling from your lips along with a few whimpers whenever his tip hits either your cervix or that sweet spot inside you that has you seeing stars – the spot that only his massive dick can reach.

there's not a single thought on your head aside from how well shidou is fucking you, using your body as he pleases like you're a ragdoll, made with the only intention of pleasuring him, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as your eyes are trained on the mirror – more specifically, on the dick going in and out of your hole in a inhumane pace.

oh, and shidou thinks you look so sexy like that. your face contorting in pleasure, spit dripping from your loosen tongue and eyes clouded with lust, you're unable to even formulate a phrase, only incoherent whimpers coming from your lips – completely drunk and dumb on his cock. “look at you, fucked dumb on my dick already, letting me use you as my cocksleeve, so small and so nasty.”

your nails dig into his biceps’ flesh, using them as some kind of leverage as he literally rails your pussy, you feel like you're about to melt under his touch with the way his tip hits your sweet spot over and over and over again, lazy eyes watching how the bulge on your tummy disappears before reappearing whenever he sinks you down.

it feels so good, to be manhandled, overpowered, left helpless with the only option of taking it, you're on the verge of tears and your throat is sore from moaning so loud but you can't help it when wave after wave of pleasure runs through your veins, the feeling is so overwhelming yet so amazing, you feel so damn full yet you don't want shidou to ever pull out, walls clamping down on his length furiously like your pussy is trying to get every single drop of him – and it's.

he growls and moans at the feeling, a smirk reaching his lips as even dirtier thoughts crowd his mind. he wants to make a mess of you, fill you up with his cum and spurt his seed so deep in your womb to claim you as his, marking you in every possible way as a sign that you belong to him, and your cunt belongs to where it rightfully is – being pounded by his cock.

“a–ha, such a dirty little thing, aren't you? so fuckin’ tight sweets, gonna make me cum so hard.” he's licking at your tears, biting your earlobe and whispering such nasty things against it, he seems to be on a mission of making you lose your mind – and he knows that he already succeed on it. “gonna fill you up so good, make you cum all over my cock, y’want that don't you?”

it's insane. the way he's pushing your knees together, one arm looping under them to hold you against his chest and he's holding you with just one arm, his free hand sneaking between your thighs to rub harsh circles on your neglected clit – and you nearly explode. “so good, so good, it's so good!” is all you can think, he's thrusting his hips up to meet yours and bouncing your body up and down, you can feel the way his dick is pulsating and how every single vein on it rubs so deliciously against your gummy walls, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your nub so fervently and it's all too much.

the knot inside you snaps and your toes curl in the air, your head thrown back on your boyfriend's shoulder when you cum on his dick, a long moan leaving your lips and your mind is blank, unable to process anything but the way your orgasm hits you.

“that's it baby, cum all you want, y're so hot.” you barely understand what he's saying, still lost in cloud nine due to your climax, slowly riding it out as you calm down, but shidou doesn't falter on his moves, hips still slamming into your ass and thumb still rubbing your clit – though it's a more feather touch this time. you whine and writhe in his grip, slurred cries about it being too much but he's not listening, he never is. “keep crying pretty thing, my dick’s gonna explode.”

he's a freak, you feel your whole body on fire as he continues to bounce you on his cock, the squelching sounds so louder now you've came, your body going up and down easier and you're so sensitive, even the tiniest thing is enough to make you snap yet once more – in this case, shidou's palm giving your clit a light slap. your eyes roll back to your skull behind your eyelids, your sore throat unable to make any sound but a high-pitched cry, legs shaking uncontrollably and your ears going deaf for a second when you squirt.

your cum drenches everything – shidou's arms, his thighs, your thighs, the sheets, even the mirror gets dirty with a few drops, you're truly making a mess, and ryusei loves it so much, he's brought over the edge as well, thick, hot ropes of cum spurting in your core.

he moans in your ear like a whore, dick throbbing and twitching as he blows his load inside you, it's so much it nearly bloats your stomach, some of it leaking from your hole as he keeps moving you up and down.

“y–eah, so damn hot sweets, gon’ knock you up, breed this pussy real good ‘till i’m satisfied.” he knows you're not listening, watching through the mirror how your body writhes in his arms as you try to ride out your orgasm, it's so intense and the way his hot cum is filling you up doesn't help at all, you feel so overstimulated that you can't even open your eyes, seeming to be on the verge of passing out, lips dumbly murmuring your boyfriend's name.

"uh uh, don't sleep on me now, pretty face, we're not done yet." when he finally pulls out, it's a true mess. his sticky cum is flooding from your cunt, dripping down your thighs and onto his along with your own fluids, it's the hottest thing he's ever seen and he takes a few seconds to fully admire it, before laying back on the mattress with you on top. he lines his dick with your entrance yet again, teasing voice breaking your subspace walls as he thrusts up, shoving all of his size in you with one swift motion. "gotta breed this pussy a few more times to make sure you're nice and full.”

#blue lock smut #bllk smut #shidou ryusei smut #shidou smut #ㅤ𔘓 – my works...!

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

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Gojo buying (y/n) souvenirs after every mission and finding out she kept EVERYTHING

Pairing: Gojo x reader (fem!pronouns)

Word Count: 1,2k

Synopsis: Since your joyful smile is so addictive, Satoru can't help but buy you a souvenir every time he goes on a mission. After a few months, he realizes by accident that you do, in fact, keep everything he gifts you...

Warnings: this is fluffness overload so be prepared, (y/n) has a really bubbly and Mitsuri-like personality, let me know what you thiiiiink and enjoy your holidays🤍

Your heart jumps up and down in joy, feet carrying you down the hallway at lightspeed. Finally he’s back. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? Definitely too long.

“Satoru!”, you cry out.

There he stands, his arms already wide open while wearing the casual sly grin you adore so much. You can’t contain yourself any longer, your giggles filling his very own heart with nothing but joy.

Satoru doesn’t remember exactly how it all started. After some random mission, he saw a little figure of your favourite animal standing innocently in a show window. He didn’t think much of it, bought it only because it reminded him of you. But oh, you were so joyful back then.

“Are you kidding me?”, you breathed out, glossy eyes staring at the pretty ugly figure so heartfelt that Satoru couldn’t help but shamelessly stare at you.

“It reminded me of you since I know it’s your favourite animal, so yeah…You like it?”

“Like it?”

You grabbed his hands with so much passion that he almost fell backwards, jumping up and down in delight.

“I love it, Satoru! This is probably the nicest thing someone ever did for me!”

It was inevitable from there on. The urge to see your heartfelt joy after every mission became an obsession, forcing him to look into every window, into every shop on the haunt for something you might like. To be honest it made everything more bearable. The loss of his best friend, the people around him dying, all the things that keep him up at night seem to disappear when he’s looking for souvenirs to bring you.

And this.

You almost knock him over by the way you let yourself fall into his arms, hands intertwined behind his back just the way he likes it. Oh, your smell is so intoxicating, as well as your gorgeous appearance sends warm shivers down his spine. How is it even possible that you seem to get more and more breath-taking every time he sees you?

“I was so worried about you! Why didn’t you answer your calls?”, you mumble against the fabric of his uniform, instantly greeted by the singing smell of curses.

“Oh y’know, I had to do a little work from now and then. Like killing off some demons and saving a whole town from getting wiped out. So sorry I didn’t call you back”, he teases you gently.

“That didn’t stop me from getting something for you, though…”

Your eyes widen in sheer excitement, head darting towards him instantly.

“No, you didn’t”, you mutter, lips already forming the most adorable smile.

“Heck yeah I did.”

“I told you over and over that you don’t need to do that, Satoru!”

“Do you like them?”

You bite your lip in a miserable attempt to suppress the wide grin that creeps up your face, cheeks turning the shade of pink that makes Satoru lose his mind. You are so breath-taking, so pure that it warms his heart.

“Of course I do”, you mumble into your hand.

“There you go.”

He hands you a small box, the brush of his tender touch against your hand sending electricity right through your body. With trembling fingers, you open the light blue ribbon wrapped around it, exposing a simple yet stunning necklace. You desperately try to hold back tears, so moved that you are utterly speechless.

This necklace isn’t this simple. No, engraved into it in Satoru’s iconic handwriting, it says “every thought, you”.

“You can’t be serious about this, Satoru. I really don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve this and even more, (y/n). Do you like it?”

“You ask me if I like it?”, you repeat breathless.

Your finger brushes over the engraving carefully, feeling every curve and every stroke of his elegant hand writing. This must have been expensive – way too expensive for a simple souvenir. But oh how much you love it already, you’ll keep this close to your heart day in and day out.

“I love it. Thank you so much.”

There’s no time to waste. With a swift motion you lunge yourself at him all over again, burying your face against his broad chest. You truly don’t deserve his kindness, his affection. What an outstanding man he is, so tender that it makes you tear up.

“I’d do anything to make you smile”, he mutters into your hair, hands stroking your back ever so gently.

Smile…Oh, you almost forgot!

“Would you…Would you mind coming to my dorm for a second? There’s something I want to give you as well.”

You wipe your tears away unladylike, your hand grabbing his before he’s even able to answer your question.

“Something you want to give to me? Remember when I told you you don’t have to buy me anything?”

“Remember when I told you the same?”, you remark with a slight grin, literally dragging him into your room.

In fact, you stumbled upon this cute figure of a white cat the other day. There was no way you’d leave without buying it, not when it reminded you so much of him.

You swing your drawer open without thinking twice, grabbing the cute little cat with your face glowing in proud.

“Okay, now that’s adorable”, Satoru laughs gently.

Somehow, his eyes get stuck on your drawer though. It looks messy, almost flooding over with all the pieced cramped into it. But no, that isn’t some random rubbish. That figure that stands in the middle of it, it looks so familiar. As well as all those letters, the sweets, the postcards…

It dawns to him, heart skipping a beat. These are all the souvenirs he brought you over the last few years.

“Don’t tell me you kept everything I gave you.”

Oh, please tell him you did.

“Huh?”

Your innocent eyes dart towards the drawer behind you, your cheeks instantly heating up all over again.

“Oh…of course I kept them! Why would I ever throw them away?”

“You even kept the packages of the sweets from last months…”

His heart almost overspills with love. You have to be an angel, too pure and kind for this world. Just one look into your tender eyes is enough to sweep him off his feet, the little cat he holds in his hand sending him over the edge.

“I just love to get reminded of you I guess.”

“And I love you, (y/n). You have to be the most precious human being I’ve ever met.”

The way your eyes widen and your mouth shoots open is priceless. You look so utterly surprised that he can’t help but chuckle while wrapping his strong arms around you all over again.

“Y-you, loving me?”, you stutter.

“Well, I was hoping you’d love me too-“

“I do”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I love you more than any souvenir!”, you babble out.

“That’s what a man needs to hear”, he laughs softly.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @chilichopsticks

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sprite-writes-fanfic · 7 months ago

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Thomas Hewitt being obsessed with his chubby S/O 💕

Hey guys it’s me, today was a really productive day and to add to that I wrote this, I’m feeling hella good right now, I sincerely hope y’all enjoy, I’m dipping my feet back into slasherfics <3

Word count: 750

CW: 🔞SMUT!! MDNI!!🔞 Thomas Hewitt being a sweetpea, body worship, obsession over you. AFAB reader, but no pronouns are used!

••••••••••••

Thomas is obsessed with you, and that much is clear. From the day he met you, to the day he wedded you, and even today, he’s still obsessed; much more so now than he was before. He loved the way you looked, how soft you felt. He absolutely adored your soft chubby body, the way it felt in his hands when he held you in his arms. Soft touches from your hands when they come to rub his arms up and down to soothe him when he’s upset always elicit goosebumps every time, how you manage to touch him and calm him down within an instance.

He loves to touch you, he loves when you touch him. The feeling of your skin against his rough calloused palms, it mesmerizes him how soft you are. His favorite thing to do is approaching you from behind while you work on dishes or cooking, his hand skimming your arms, caressing your bare skin, before his hands would move to rest on your stomach, his hands gently kneading at your soft belly, feeling the doughiness in his hands, before he gently moves to gently rub at your hips, just enjoying you. Just holding you like that, you letting him have that simple comfort, it means the world to him, more than you would ever know.

His obsession transfers to your sex life. He worships every part of you, his hands gently caressing your body as you lay on your shared bed, completely bare to him. He’ll start with your breasts, his eyes glazing over the beautiful skin adorned with small stretch marks and gently feeling how soft and squishy they are. He’d gently massage and squeeze them, his thumbs moving delicately over your nipples until they pebble under his thumbs, listening to your soft breathy moans as he gently toys with your sensitive buds.

He would then move down, his eyes meeting yours as he would feel your pudgy stomach, his hands ever so gently caressing the soft skin, tracing your beautiful stretch marks, before he would lean down and leave soft kisses along them, showing his love and appreciation for each and everyone of them. Every stretch mark your body adorns he shows his love too with his kisses, his lips are chapped until they moisten with each sloppy kiss he leaves behind.

He then moves to your plush thighs, gently squeezing them and pressing his face against, closing his eyes as his lashes tickle your skin. Oh how he adores these beautiful thighs, he loves when they wrap around his head and squeezes it whenever he goes down on you. He always starts with your inner thighs, leaving gentle delicate kisses, occasionally nipping your skin to earn a soft gasp from you. Marking was never his thing, but something about your thighs makes him want to decorate him with his little love marks. He trails from your inner thighs to your pretty pussy, gently licking flat upon it, sucking your clit, doing everything to make you cum on his tongue within minutes.

Then the next moment, he has your legs thrown over his shoulder as he gently takes you. His thick cock slowly pressing in and stretching you out in a way you remember. The stretch burns but in a way you adore, pleasure coursing through you as he slowly thrusts his hips into yours, never daring to go any faster or harder unless you ask rather nicely. His pace is usually a sweet, slow and sensual lovemaking, he knows how big he is, he wouldn’t ever want to hurt you, ever, so he takes his time, working you up and helping you reach your peak and riding through your blissful orgasm. His pace speeds up only a fraction as he would chase his own high before spilling his seed deep inside you, a low groan leaving him as his own lips, eyes fluttering, his head tilted back as he pants out.

After your little lovemaking session, he particularly likes to cockwarm inside you. He enjoys your warmth and the feeling of being as close as possible, spooning you in his arms as you kiss him softly across his face and caress his worn out body, a soft groan emitting from his lips as he relaxes under your touch. God, did he feel truly blessed, and he thanks whatever god is out there to give him his precious darling that he can forever hold, love and cherish til the day he dies.

#sprite writes #fanfic #fanfiction #slashers #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #tcm 2006 #texas chainsaw massacre #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #afab reader #chubby reader

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loguine-linguine · 9 months ago

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Ok hear me out!!!

Steve is a musician who sings pop music and posts on TikTok. He’s kind of a C-ish list celebrity (definitely a bit of a nepo baby) and his music is poppy and catchy. It’s the kinda stuff that you can immediately tell is coming from someone who is actively holding things back/ isn’t writing from any truth. Mall music at its purest form. Then one day with no announcement Steve drops a double sided album that is like GOOD GOOD pop music. It’s also noted very quickly that the pronouns in all the songs have definitely switched to he/him. People freak out and he starts charting for the first time in his career. Kinda Chappell Roan-esque situation where he skyrockets to being a queer pop icon very very quickly.

He starts doing interviews. He shows up to these interviews in outfits aren’t dramatically changed from what he usually wore (polos, jeans, bomber jackets, 80s jock vibes) but it’s all just much more camp. The cropped shirts are shorter, the jeans are tighter, and the colors are all suddenly pastel. He has also started wearing makeup (not heavy makeup but it’s definitely a lipgloss, eyeliner, mascara, highlight/blush on the tip of his nose type situation). He shares that he dropped his old producer (who he had been set up with by his father) and that he’s now working with his best friend Robin. He comes out as gay, talks about his struggle with comp-het, and proudly shares that he is super excited to contribute to the growing movement of music that is being written by queer people, for queer people. His TikTok also blows up.

This is when Tommy Hagan first starts showing up. Tommy is an actor who is pretty well known for doing teen drama TV shows (like Riverdale type deals). He introduces himself to Steve at some sort of industry event right after Steve gets big and pretty quickly starts showing up in his TikTok videos. It comes out that the two are dating pretty quickly after that. They date off and on for about a year and a half. Tommy is a shitty enough boyfriend that even Steve’s fans don’t like him. He stands him up for dates, embarrasses him at events, says rude and dismissive things about his music, etc. Robin (who is also kinda famous by proxy/writes her own music now similar to Billie Eilish and Finneas) absolutely hates his guts. Publicly. They finally break up officially after Tommy cheats on Steve with an actress named Carol who is on a show with him. It gets exposed by the tabloids and Steve finds out by seeing a photo of them making out on one of those celebrity drama TikTok accounts.

Eddie is also getting famous around this same time. He’s the lead for Corroded Coffin and also starts acting occasionally in horror films. He doesn’t really pay much attention to other celebrities or the drama that goes on. He was never into that kind of thing before the band took off so he doesn’t see why he should now. Eddie and the rest of the band are at an awards show of some sort and the others make fun of him the whole time. He can’t stop staring at this absolutely beautiful man sitting at a table near them. “The guy is wearing a slutty little lace shirt, the tightest pants in existence, and has skin that looks like honey and caramel had a child Gareth you really can’t blame me honestly.” Steve and Eddie don’t officially meet until the after party where they immediately hit it off.

A few months later Steve announces a new album and releases a single. It’s just Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter but gay and clearly about Tommy.

The music video comes out and people loose their minds. It’s the same sort of video as what Sabrina Carpenter just released for Please Please Please with the stunning outfits and the whole bad boy thing. Steve spends the whole video in dresses and skirts. There’s even a corset at one point. The bigger freak out is the fact that the Barry Keoghan equivalent is Eddie and its a hard launch of their relationship that fans had absolutely zero clue was even a possibility because why would horror/metal man Eddie Munson even know Steve Harrington???? Robin and the Corroded Coffin guys think the whole thing is hilarious. Eddie and Steve are so so happy :)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #musicians au #should i write this?#steddie fanfiction #Tommy Hagan also gets very angry and embarrasses himself publicly after the song comes out #Steve’s album then definitely contains a song along the lines of Chappell Roan’s My Kink is Karma #famous steve harrington #famous eddie munson #celebrity au #stranger things #I would write this if people would read it

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quarterlifekitty · 2 months ago

Note

(just had a gynecologist appt this morning and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a dog Soap would be about it)

he’d beg to watch or something like the perv he is

or maybe if we’re being really nasty:

gynecologist!Soap that only chose this profession so he can stuff his fingers into pussies all day :(( he doesn’t discriminate either, he likes all kinds of cunts!! Can’t have any pussy suffering or feeling sick on his watch (he’s a pussy pronoun user)

But he gets real excited when a pretty thing like you walks into his office, likes making you squirm and blush all awkwardly

don’t worry about it, bonnie, s'all part of the exam :3 he’s just checking if your g-spot is healthy!! There she goes, soaking his fingers and trying to suck him in deeper <3

You know there were a lot of boys who said that thing about wanting to be gynecologists in middle school and I will never forget my music teacher saying “you know that women usually go to the gynecologist when there’s something wrong with them, right?” And they shut the fuck up

Also I believe @/peachesofteal has a gyn!Price AU that I recommend you check out if you’re into that.

lol NO ONE walks into the obgyn and expects seeing a built dude with a Mohawk basically busting out of his scrubs and smiling at you with wolf teeth.

Also YES pussy pronouns. A staple of the 141, imo.

And this may be too freak nasty for you but uhhhm…. DentistsOffice!141.

CW: medical, dental, dubcon/noncon, obsession, somno

Obsessed with you and shoving their fingers in your mouth and against your teeth. Let’s be real Soap would love smelling your breath and every day is a constant battle for him to resist spitting in there right after he tells you to open wide.

Price and Nikolai looming over you, remarking on your oral hygiene, stroking the tips of your canines. Calling you a good girl every time you follow any instruction whatsoever— opening your mouth, rinsing with all of the mouthwash, moving your tongue out of the way. The way they praise your good care and tut when you’ve been slacking is insanely motivating

You know Soap is obsessed with the molds they make of your teeth (I know that’s orthodontic primarily don’t @ me). If he uses some silicon in the molds to take a little something home that’s his business iykyk

Gaz who’s the resident anesthetist. And you KNOW they always recommend general anesthesia for every fuckin minor procedure they can so you can be passed out and vulnerable under them. Gaz gently explaining what it’s going to feel like as you go under, telling you to keep counting as the mask gets secured over your mouth.

And if you insist you can’t go under general, you don’t have anyone to come with you or drive you home after, that’s ok. Their technician Simon is actually getting off his shift around when the procedure ends. He’d be happy to drive you home and help you rinse with saline, replace your cotton :) and if something else happens to slip in your mouth while you’re still all dazed and relaxed, what’s the harm?

And miraculously, your insurance (I know I look like an American rn don’t @ me) always covers the whole thing with no issue! They just call them up, and suddenly the copay disappears. So it’s no trouble to go often— you might as well take advantage!

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yonch · 1 year ago

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it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

#isat #in stars and time #siffrin #siffrin isat #isafrin #isat game #postgame isat #loop #isabeau #mirabelle #odile #bonnie #boniface #spoilers are only under the read more #my drawings #etoile tag

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sundrlands · 5 months ago

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‘significance’ j. sunderland x reader

minors dni

cw: light face slapping, light scent kink, sub/top j. sunderland x dom/bottom reader, oral, breath play if you squint, breeding kink, light spit play, dry humping. no depictions of specific characterizations in regards to the reader’s looks. reader has she/her pronouns.

summary: what happens when two deprived people meet by accident? a server and that odd man who’d always come to drink coffee every morning at 6am. from awkward conversation to a dinner that turned into rough, needy indulgence. it was easy, a deprived little thing like him… it was just too significant.

a/n: this is years after the events of sh— no mentioning of the events either. forgive me if this is all over the place… it’s definitely a long one. i kind of went wild while writing this one. there’s more smut than there is plot but nonetheless… i hope you enjoy my very first james sunderland fic.

there he goes again… that odd man… in the same spot he’d always sit in. the farthest table by the window with no one to accompany him besides himself.

james… that was his name. james sunderland.

he was kind enough to tell you this after the tenth time he’d come in. you didn’t have to ask or even tell him your own name… mostly because you didn’t know how to approach that level of conversation. you were just a server— giving the customers phony smiles, a ‘hi, how can i help you today?’ and the fakest kind of enthusiasm when any other would try to offer a joke out of curtesy.

yet something about him… his somber eyes— with light wash of rosy pink coloring the bags underneath them— that looked as if he was deep in thought… as if he were to be troubled by something… or someone from his past… the short stubble that grazed over his chin and upper lip, and his body language that seemed as if he never wanted to be bothered or probably never slept. his gaze always wandered around the diner, out the window or at the soft ripples within the mug he’d hold. sometimes… you found him staring at you, nervously looking away whenever your eyes connected. you never understood why though or what he could be thinking each time he looked at you, so you never asked or gave it much question.

james was just a stranger who came at the same time, almost every single day— six in the morning, as the sky still glowed its grey hues— not a minute early. not a minute late. the bell from the diner’s door ringing loud and brash with the thick of his boots stepping on every creaking, rotten floor board.

each time he’d come, you’d watch him to see if he’d do anything different. maybe he’d add in a sugar packet… two or three… or maybe he’d get a breakfast sandwich like mr.colemen always did— the trucker who you knew had a wife but still flirted with the older cook, ms.miles on tuesdays— or maybe he’d bring in someone he knew to occupy his time… he didn’t. it was the same each time. he’d arrive, ask for seating and sit— not wanting anything else but his coffee— black. no sugar. no cream, just like he liked it he said. he’d watch the steam from his cup vanish until it ran cold then take his sips that felt like a lifetime in between each one.

you couldn’t lie… you were fairly intrigued by him… it wasn’t as if you hadn’t had regulars come in just as much he does, if not more, but something about him seemed different… the expression he always wore… he always seemed so lost in thought yet… so attentive in his surroundings. something in you wanted to know who he was.

each time you gave him a cup of his favorite black coffee, you couldn’t help yourself but try to formulate conversation after he gave out his name… but he was always just so fucking vague… each sentence he spoke was watered down— that trickled slow like shallow water… simplistic and dry, running in a soothing hum.

it was pretty. the way he spoke.

you told him that too. a gentle, ‘you have a nice voice’ after he sung a sweet ‘thank you’ after setting the coffee down in front of his hands. he was awkward about it, like he hadn’t received a compliment like this one or a compliment at all. no words given other than that, having the conversation run flat and you walking away in regret thinking, ‘maybe that was too much’.

it only took one day when you had been off shift to see him sitting at a park bench, the one at the end of the town with his hands in his pockets, back slouched and those same somber eyes staring into the park’s pound to finally sit next to him and not feel the dynamic imbalance hit you like how it did in the diner.

“james!” your breath creating its soft clouds within the cold air as you softly spoke, vanishing as it rose.

“ah!” he hummed, “funny to see you here.” he looked at you… the blonde strands flowing against the wind, his attention fully on you instead of him quickly trying to look away. it was direct, like he stared from within your body… you didn’t expect a person like him to have such good eye contact… it almost made you nervous.

“no coffee today?” you replied, offering a smile.

“afraid not. im just on my lunch break… needed some fresh air.”

“may i ask where you work? hope that’s not improper of me to ask.” you laughed quietly, taking a real good look at him. he was almost like a statue… a rugged one. his lack of fashion sense…and his ability to hold so much expression all the while it being so bland and so cold.

he chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his head back towards the pond, “no… no it’s not ‘improper’. it’s just an office job. pretty boring id say.”

“fitting.” you replied, “not that you’re boring! just… seems like a occupation you’d have is all.”

“i wouldn’t say that you’re wrong even if you did say that.” giving yet another humming chuckle.

you stayed for the time he had to spare. the conversation going just as you thought it would… awkward but he was sweet nonetheless. though it was the way it was, his words flowed with every sentence he spoke, like the gentle stream of the pond in front of you both or the thick clouds that scattered in the grey sky. it took you just a few moments to notice how pretty that man was. he exuded such odd comfort… and warmth that made you want to keep talking to him. listen to anything he said even if it meant nothing or sounded humorously stupid.

“well.” he sighed, grunting as he stood, “id love to keep… talking, but i have to go back.”

you nodded, exchanging your goodbyes as you watched him walk down the park’s path until his body disappeared in the distance.

and so, from then on it had been easier to talk to him. finding any way to get to know more about the odd man who only drank black coffee and stared at you from time to time. it started just at your workplace, quick and steady back and forth talk then at the park, then offering a time to spend together on your off day for breakfast.

that was the first time he had something other than coffee. it was the first time you saw him smile more than once… not a faint one… a real one— seeing how his teeth jumbled at the bottom of his mouth or the harsh smile lines appear by the sides of his lips.

the more you looked, the more you conjured how pathetic of a man james really was. his life seemed so dull… just like the springs occasional showers and faded blue skies… but he was like the sweetness of june— the warmth within this man was little to none but still, he captivated you with his odd charm even if he tried or didn’t. you couldn’t help yourself but to think it was so easy to get him flustered, to have him smile whenever you showed interest in whatever he spoke about… like a lost puppy who finally got attention after being alone for so long.

a slip of a compliment flowed in almost every other sentence, seeing him stutter in his words, choking up a thank you whenever he could. it was amusing… like an addiction. sewing your way into his life was oh so significant. he considered you a ‘friend’ to put it lightly, one who obviously stared at you whenever you weren’t looking: like at the pier. you stood in front of him, hearing the crows sing and the water waves crash against the wood— he’d eye down your frame, seeing the way your clothes hugged your form… dissociating the world’s music around you both with an open mouth and twiddling fingers.

each time, you acted as if you hadn’t noticed and maybe you were just that good for him to not pick up on it whenever you failed to mention or question why he’d stare so goddamn much. it didn’t matter anyway, you liked it just as much as he liked staring at you.

he’d sit stiff, noting how erect his back would be whenever you placed your hand on his shoulder, a soft grip given as you both spoke about whatever. he’d clear his throat whenever you stood a little too close to him, rubbing the tapered part of his hair on the back of his head with a line of ‘uh’ and ‘ums’ in between each word he spoke.

god… this man was just so pathetic.

“why don’t we have dinner?” you smiled as you turned towards him, the bustling chatter amongst the passing people as you both walked down the same park you and him had your first real conversation.

“oh.” he chirped, a quiet laugh intertwined in his speech, “sure. where?”

“my house.” you answered confidently. through the few months of you being his ‘friend’, it only seemed right, so you told him. you wanted him in a place of vulnerability. to rule out every other being that’d pass by or surround you while in public. you just wanted it to be you and him. him and you. “if that’s fine by you. im not too bad of a cook.”

“your house?” his voice fell flat but it was nothing that worried you. the ring of his monotone voice was thick and with how he reacted to your small gestures, you knew he was more than willing to oblige. “you don’t mind me… coming to your house?”

you gave a little nod and he gave a gentle smirk. james didn’t know what could happen once the dinner would happen but he had no reason to disagree… or even want to. he grew accustomed to your company, more than any coworker he had that tried to gather him for night drinks after tough shifts… or even the women who were so abrupt in their interest in him… the thin pencil skirts and revealing blazers. he didn’t care.

a date was given. four days from then after his early ending shift. and so time flew. he hadn’t come to the diner at six in the morning like he did, he wasn’t even at the spots he’d sit during his breaks from work. a part of you had been worried if he tried to avoid you, wondering why you haven’t seen him since your request. he wasn’t good at texting— sending him a ‘hi’ would only result to him replying a ‘hey’ three days later. you almost didn’t buy the groceries you needed to prepare or an outfit that wasn’t too much but definitely would grasp his attention.

luckily you did.

it had been the day and it was five in the afternoon, the sun setting itself and the wind blowing more rapidly, flowing with the night’s usual atmosphere. james stood at your door with the address you gave him not too long after he agreed for the dinner you proposed. he just stared at it’s wood, his heart racing without his mind fully understanding why. he was a grown man but too afraid to see your face until this very moment. so he’d stay in the house longer than he needed to without going to the diner in the mornings. he’d stay in his cubicle on his lunch break, finishing any extra assignments he needed done for his boss.

moments spent with his feet planted on the ground before he gave three knocks at your door. he waited, only for a minute before you opened the door. you were dressed so nicely opposed to his work outfit still on and the light fragrance of the food fumigating in the air, hitting his nose.

“you’re here.” you spoke, relieved that he hadn’t stood you up. “come in.”

and so he did. small talk was given, complimenting your abode and trinkets you had scattered all about, admiring the personality your home gave opposed to his apartment that was just there… only the essentials, almost soulless. you thanked him of course, going on about little things as he listened before you finished all that needed to be done for dinner— it was pasta. simple and easy to not fuck up.

two plates placed with wine in crystal glasses and forks being spun. you connected over the flavor of the sauce and the warmth of the garlic bread that complimented the pasta. everything went smoothly, more than you thought it would’ve. easy conversation with the add in of knowing more about who james was… though he was his usual vague self.

you couldn’t pinpoint why he had been or what was truly on his mind. in certain instances, he’d drift off, his eyes wavering with a slow chew before ending his sentence with something mundane. your curiosity kept prodding with each question you gave— he didn’t show feeling of intrusion but he wrapped around certain topics leaving you needing more to be answered.

it felt like twenty one questions… moreso… him answering yours than you were with his but his composure and hospitality hadn’t changed from his kind and awkward demeanor he’d always give. it took awhile before you realized you had been digging in his chest like a crow on a rotting corpse before you covered your mouth with a soft, inaudible gasp.

“ive been blabbering…” you say, shyly laughing as you continued the last of what was left on your plate.

“no.” he responded, his voice trickling like soothing raindrops against a windowsill, “you’re just curious.”

“that i am.” your eyebrows raising as you sipped the bitter red liquid of your wine, “but you’ve had enough.”

he shook his head, wiping his mouth with a nearby napkin as he gulped, “i enjoy the conversation. i just have a lot in my past im not too fond of is all.” you noticed his eyes again… that troublesome look… the blank stare. whatever happened seemed to had never left him. james was like a puzzle piece… all scattered… some pieces missing so the full picture could never be seen or even admired.

“don’t we all…” pursing your lips as you set your glass down, “…but that’s the beauty of life, yes? it’s shitty… things come and go. regret… wrapped in solace. but that only means you can make happier memories.” trying to be positive to remove anything he had stored in thought.

you saw his shoulders relax from its usual tension, his eyes finding their way towards yours with a thick silence being transferred between you two. “yeah.” he spoke, breaking the silence momentarily before it fell back. the white noise… the gentle buzz cradled your eardrums, sitting like a stone in both of your seats.

the contact between your eyes spoke a million words… ones that haven’t been spoken out loud— it was of interest, undeniable lust. from his constant gaze from when you once were strangers… his usual order of coffee, to the moments you spent together in numerous places to now. those pretty light eyes shook as they bounced from each part of what your body showed at the table. they were quick… hungry… without any hesitancy. he dared not to look away, enjoying the visual of your being in a place with no one around, just you both.

as for you… the feeling of his eyes felt like fire caressing your skin… as if his wherever his pupils directed themselves, you could feel. it felt like fingertips gliding underneath the fabric of your clothes… just as when he ate… the way his lips latched onto the silver of his fork— the unintentional sensual gesture as he slid it from his mouth and chewed. the coat of spit that was left across it, and the delicate way he held onto the spine of the wine glass. you wanted to replace the flavor of your homemade sauce with the flower of your labia… to feel the latch of his lips against your breast or on the sides of your neck. the way he ate gave you an intense feeling of need… greed… swelling indulgence. not to mention his goddamn voice… the voice you were already so found over— the subtle cracks and dips between certain vowels… how deep it was… how gentle it felt amongst the silence.

“james..?” you questioned, tilting your head slightly, almost in a trance by the tone of your voice.

he gulped roughly, already sensing whatever you were going to say by the look you gave. “yes?”

“may i kiss you?” the words flowing softly within a sigh, holding your breath as you waited for his answer.

he just stared at you, eyes blinking like a cat in comfort as he continued to stare. moments past… which felt like hours before he nodded.

you stood from your seat, his attentiveness not failing to follow you in whichever way you went, slowly walking towards him with your hand sliding against the rough stubble on his face. he exhaled through his nose, his eyes shutting closed, his body melting into your touch as if he longed for such embrace. he hummed… the vibration flickering against the tips of your fingers before you felt the warm air of his exhale against your lips. slowly you leaned, shaky breaths with a soft press of the lips.

his lips were so soft yet stiff, a long press, occupying the other side of his face with yet another hand, pulling his face closer to yours as you deepened it. james let you lead, his rough calloused hand grazing against your wrist with a gentle grip, simultaneously pulling you closer to his embrace.

at the touch of his lips, you felt yourself get jolted with pleasure in between your legs, the softness rushing to a hungered one— his lips opening, allowing your tongue to push through and taste the sweetness of his of spit. his mouth was warm and the muscle of his tongue slid into yours as spit started to slide down his chin… quickening breaths and an even louder hum than he ever gave.

with the sharp sound of the chair scraping against the floorboards, he scooted back, you unconsciously sitting onto his lap just to feel the growing bulge against his work pants. you sat right on it, feeling it press against your clothed cunt with a groan that wrapped around your tongue and down your throat. he felt big, and the throb of it excited you, having your hips think on its own with a heavy yet slow rut.

the hands that held onto your wrist fell at your hips, the tightness of his fingers digging into you as if he’d never want you to leave from his touch. your bodies molded into one, your breasts pressing against his heaving chest with your hands now gripping the back of his neck.

at release, your forehead pressed against his… his deep gasps sounding pathetic and irregular, lips ajar, trying to savor the feeling of your lips that were once on his. the creek of the chair upon your slow grinds were loud and obnoxious but that didn’t stop you from adding on more friction, loving the feeling of his hardening cock against you.

“let me… do what i want to you… let me make you feel good.” you whispered against his lips, feeling your words being sucked from his quickening gasps.

“please.” he whined… a sound you’d never heard before from a man, let alone one of business. his willingness in the subtle acceptance of him submitting to you had your mind fill with haze. the glisten of his eyes pleaded for something… anything… like he had never been touched before. “please…”

his face leaned in the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against the warmth of your skin, sharp inhales, devouring the perfume that coated it. light peppering kisses lining up and down, all along the side of your jaw. a smile crept up on your lips… you knew just from the sight of him that he was just a pathetic little thing. and with the way he acted just from a kiss… how hard he got with you sitting on his lap, you knew that whatever you did he’d grant you a reaction that would be better than any man has ever gave you or will give you.

you gripped the back of his head, a drunken stare as his lips still purse from the abrupt release of his kiss. “wait.” you breathed, pressing your finger in the center of his lips. he was so tantalizing… his eyes drooped with anticipation, knowing that since he has you now… his self control was little to none.

at the side of you finger, he kissed it, holding onto your wrist as you placed another finger against his lips. you watched and he watched you— his mouth slowly opening and guiding his fingers against his tongue. with hallowed cheeks he began to suck, bobbing his cute head down to the knuckle. curling your fingers, you felt his tongue slither in between, spit messily sliding down your palm and arm.

“good boy..” you praised, your voice in sync with the sounds of his sucks— a deeper whine trembling against your fingers at the sudden pet name.

you grinned, cocking an eyebrow at his reaction. he liked that? you thought. seems fitting.

sliding your fingers from his mouth, you gripped his chin, a gentle press given, “watch me.” you whisper and with a pull at your top, he watched. his eyes directing themselves at your breasts with an even quicker and excited exhale exuding from his whining lips. eyebrows furrowing at the need to touch, his hands hesitantly removing from your hips and curling, waiting for the okay to be able to grope them upon your request. unclasping your bra, they drooped prettily in his face, letting whatever you took off hit the floor beside the chair.

“come on pretty boy… touch them.” you slurred, your voice seductive, teasing him, watching how his eyes never left, just opening at the sight of your bare breasts. “i know you want to.”

he sighed, one that was pent up and riddled with eagerness. “oh my god…” his voice shook. james was driven by the lustrous nature of your body. captivating by the sounds that fell from your lips and the commands you spewed— each word directed itself at his cock, feeling it twitch and tighten at his pants. the way you were entranced by his eyes as he was with yours, looking up at them with admiration, need and desire that festered throughout his body, making him burn at the touch.

doe and gentle with a sweet song flowing in the disguise of a moan he sung. the single free strands laying against his skin, complimenting with the reds that blossomed at his cheeks.

‘i want her… i need her… all of her… i want it. i want it. i want it. i want it.’ he chanted in his brain— feeling as if he was going to pass out at how hard he was breathing— his hot mouth curling at the warm bud of your breast, tongue flicking at it’s hardened tip, pulling back with the gentle graze of his teeth until a pop was heard, pressing a series of kisses around your breasts.

you were drunk off the man. that poor pathetic odd man. his body calling for more… groping your breasts with vigor, feeling the shortness of his nails digging and molding them to his liking… and the little broken noises he made, so soft and sweet, higher than his usual tone. a fleeting glint of mischief glistened in your eyes, letting out a chuckle.

“that’s it…” your voice trailed, lifting your hips, starting to bounce on his lap, granting a broken moan to feather against your nipple.

“god… fucking dammit..” he exhaled, gritting his teeth as his body sunk into the chair, his feet planted harsher on the floorboards, bucking his hips upward, feeling the weight of you created more friction, his swelling cock pulsating. “don’t stop… please.” he whined, eyes squinted as drool fell from the side of his trembling lips.

your hands running in his warm blonde strands, “that’s a good boy.” you tightened your gasp, pulling it with a yank. he blinked slowly with a coo, “you like it when i bounce on it?” you teased.

he nods. his poor hips already tiring out, them stuttering at every upwards thrust. “yes ma’am… fuck it feels… it feels so good.”

planting your hands at his chest, you felt the fast pace of his heart, running your palms up his body until your fingers wrapped around his slender neck— each digit falling into his skin, hearing his strain. “poor baby… you wanna feel more don’t you?” you grunted, his head tilted back with your face hovering his. with a slight cock of your hand, it collided with the softness of his cheek, a loud yelping moan bouncing along the dining room walls.

“fu… fuck…” he stuttered, his lips almost at pout.

no woman had ever treated him this way, so rough and teasing and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. his nerves was heightened as his cheek burned with the faint remnants of your palm. never did he think he’d enjoy something like this, in fact… he was left speechless. the sight of his eyes looking more pleasing than they already looked. they never looked away from you, wanting to get every expression you gave… watching your lips as they continued to taunt him, needing to see the way your breasts bounced as you continued to rut against his lap above his pants.

“oh?” you chirped, noticing the deepening submission in his glare. “you liked that didn’t you?” your hips now stopping in its place.

weakly, he laughed, “i do.” his voice still so sultry and deep.

leaning closer to his face, your lips feathered his, exchanging breaths with shared smiles, “go on your knees and take it out for me.” your other hand sliding down slow until it cupped his bulge. removing yourself from his lap, now standing.

he lifted himself off the chair, taking off his bottoms and boxers. there he sat, like an obedient little thing, on his knees— his thick dick laying and jerking at every throb as it laid so delicately against his thigh— staring up at you adoringly with gleaming eyes, as if he had been admiring a star.

it wasn’t as if you necessarily thought about what he looked like underneath his boxers, but the sight of it made your eyes sparkle— it was so thick and long, it made your mouth water.

“james…” shocked and even more turned on at how pretty his dick was. the light graze of his brown pubes looking well kept. “fuck it’s so pretty.” running your finger down its side, hearing the most pathetic moan fall from his lips— his fists balling at the sudden touch. “needy little thing you are.”

it was cute. from the little slap you gave him and the way he wanted you to have your way, it only fed into the desire to treat this boy with some excitement. that dull life he had was now changed as thoughts puddled at your brain seeing this man look so weak as you stood to look at him.

“such a pathetic… pretty man.” you cooed, tilting your head, “and look at your dick.” his eyes dropping to watch it leak and pool at the flesh of his thigh. “it’s excited for me isn’t it?”

his fingers wrapping around his shaft, needing some type of friction… it was starting to get painful with how long it hadn’t been touched bare. whenever he was turned on in the comfort of his home, he’d jerk himself off until he fell asleep. over and over again until his wrist burned and his throat dried. he had no self control and with you around, he could cum just from your voice.

“take your hand off.”

“god i just…” he whimpered.

“mmh mmh.” your head shook, as you bent down, “hands off. i tell you when you can and can’t, do you understand?” placing your finger underneath his chin to raise it, seeing gentle plea in his eyes.

“yes ma’am.”

he felt belittled, unable to control his own person. a quick shiver fell down his spine, leaning closer into your embrace… just the soft touch of your finger gave him a bolt of pleasure. knowing if he touched himself, you’d slap him in retaliation. oh how he so desperately wanted that.

you unzipped your pants, stepping out from them, alongside your panties, already dripping against the inner of your thigh. placing a palm at the top of his head, your fingers gripped tight, angling yourself in front of his face.

he gulped roughly, staring at the swelling of your clit. “lick it.” without hesitation, his face fell in between your legs, his curved nose nudging against your clit as he inhaled, lapping his tongue in between the folds of your pussy.

the scent of it drove him wild— eyes rolling back as he continued to inhale, loud enough for you to hear. he smothered himself, the muscle of his tongue thickening with his lips latching it just to get the taste of you fully.

you were taken aback at how skilled his tongue was, how his nose stimulated your clit so lovingly with each bob of his head. obnoxious sucks radiated in the air with his fingers clasping against your thighs, hard enough to hurt.

moans trickled from your throat, gasping on the thick of the air, guiding him with the hand that gripped his hair. his tongue plunged deeply into your pussy, feeling his mold his muscle inside of your fleshy walls, thrusting his head to fuck your opening.

you felt yourself already needing to cum and that has never happened before. at least not this quick. the softness of his lips sucked so roughly and his tongue flicked so fast, your knees buckled inward, unable to keep up with the pace of his mouth.

“james…” your moans heightening in volume, your chest deepening after every breath you took, “your fucking mouth…”

his hair, all tattered and messy, with his eyes reddened from it almost tearing up because of the lack of air he was given, not stopping for a second as he drank in your arousal and your moans. a tingling sensation bounced off his body, circling through each part of his limbs.

the sounds of his sucks almost overpowering your moans itself, as he felt your meaty pussy flutter in and out his mouth loving how full you made his mouth.

“i can’t stop,” he gasped against your cunt, “it’s just so good… i love it, i fucking love it. fuck… fuck…” nothing in this man’s brain could made him stop. it was like he pushed himself in between your legs like he wanted to be apart of you— keeping his strength in his neck to keep his same motion.

removing himself to breathe, he gathered spit, directing at your clit and watching it drip before catching it in his mouth, rolling his tongue along the hood of your clit before latching on with hallowing cheeks. sucking in air, your body curled forward, feeling two of his fingers slide in the opening of your pussy. they curved as they started with long strides.

that ‘odd’ man surely knew how to please a cunt. fingers picking up its pace with the loud wet sounds interweaving the moans you both sung. “yes… yes… james…” you panted, his wrist steadying, feeling you leak against and down his knuckles. your walls clamping on his fingers like a heartbeat.

“im gonna..” you announced, your body trembling more than you could even control, your legs giving out with him quickly holding you up as much as he could— his face deepening in your cunt, grunting as he felt you cum against his tongue.

“mmmhm” he hummed over and over again, feeling you shudder against his face.

falling to your knees, your face was angled with his— his mouth wet all from his nose down to his chin. the sight of you, trying to compose yourself from the orgasm you had made him feel dizzy. “feel good?” he whispered, trailing your face from where it hung low, catching your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips, running your tongue at the flesh of his bottom, sucking it in your mouth with small nips before pulling back.

forming spit in your mouth, you held onto his cock, an immediate grunt rupturing from his throat, letting the spit falling down at his tip. brushing your thumb over it, lathering your spit down to his shaft.

“tighter… please…” he mumbled, foreheads now pressing as he watched your hand wrap around his throbbing and slightly veiny shaft, rolling your wrist in circular and jagged movements. tighter you held, hearing the sound of his throaty moans.

“like this?” you breath, quickening your pace. he deserved it.

lifting the bottom of his shirt, he placed the cloth in his mouth, seeing the light spread of hair that tracked up his navel and a hollowing abdomen at every whine he let out. “yes..” he gritted through his teeth.

his precum swaying around from the vigorous speed that continued to grow. he held his breath, brows knitted, body tense at the rhythmic pattern, veins channeling on your forearm with your fingers glazing against the underside of his tip. “look at me.” you whispered, his eyes slowly traveled up your body until they locked with yours.

you spoke of lust in both your gazes, hearing the wetness of his spit coated cock at every pump, hunger radiating in you both like you desperately needed this— shameless and passionate intimacy.

your body yearned to feel him inside and the way he stared at you— the burning sensation it brought you— made it difficult for you. you wanted to feel him stretch your cunt. pushing him back by the press of your palm against your shoulder, he lay. hovering over him, wrapping your leg over his waist before angling yourself over him.

slowly you slid down on him, never feeling something as big as his. even just from the tip, you felt yourself gasp heavily as you kept lowering yourself down onto him. “fuck you’re so… big…”

james continued his whines, eyes closing tight, his body shuttered… you were so warm, your fleshy walls holding him so comfortably. bodies slowly enveloping on another as he tried to talk to your body with his hands— sliding against your thighs, up your waist and momentarily on your breasts.

“you….” he breathed, it hitching as he mindlessly held his breath, with you pushing more of him into you— textured and wet, with a heartbeat that cradled the shaft of his cock. “your pussy is sucking me in…” he groaned, his ass tensing.

all of you. the sight of it all, each movement you made. fuck, didn’t you drive him insane. at this moment, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.

your pussy gripped his cock, deeper it went, as if your grip was unable to let him go. each moan you let out, your pussy clammed and mimicked each word as it pulsated against him.

he couldn’t stay still, whimpering as you started to lightly bounce against him— hands planted on his chest with a slight roll of your hips. you couldn’t believe how good he felt inside of you, how full he made you. with you already cumming, it was hard to keep yourself steady, feeling yourself break down each time you lowered yourself.

pressing his hand on your back, he turned you both, now with you on your back laid against the floor, “let me pleasure you… please.” he begged, both hands placed on the sides of your head.

“fuck me like the good boy you are…”

and with that, it was as if a switch had been turned on in his brain. using one hand to grasp your thigh, “like this?” he breathed, his words as slow as his thrusts, his drowsy-like eyes running up against your face. gritting his teeth, sucking on the cool yet hot air, eyebrows knitting together. he placed his forehead against yours, your hand now sliding up to his neck— the pads of your fingers and thumb pressing down the sides of it, slowly tightening your grip. with struggling breaths, his hips continuing his rhythmic thrust yet trying to find the spot, the spot that will lead you into ecstasy.

the hand that held your thigh pressed it down further, his knees fixing itself at a better position, now his groin aiming downwards. his thrust now falling into slow, hungry pounds, his balls hitting just above your asshole. “does it feel good here…?” leaning down as he pressed wet kisses at the edge of your lips.

all you could give were responding moans, your body overstimulated by every movement he made.

each inward thrust, you could hear skin slapping against one another, your breasts mashing into each other. lips trailing down to your cheek, then to your ear, his tongue running at the side of your ear then switching to the next, groaning a series of ‘fucks’ and your name as the thrust started to increase in intensity. they were once slow, now holding more power, grunting at each inward hit. “god. your… pussy… feels… so…. soo fucking… so goood…” each word ending in a hitch.

his voice now holding a deeper, grosser tone, more animalistic as he grew pussy drunk at how you wrapped around him.

he enveloped your lips, inhaling and capturing your tongue in his mouth, sucking on its pink muscle, bobbing his head and swallowing any ounce of spit that rolled down to the back of his throat. your tongue slipped from his mouth, pressing a long kiss against his lips once more.

your mind transversed across what could possible be the gates of fucking heaven at this point. each twist and turn of his hips hitting spots your fingers could possible never do, your damp walls clamping around his girthy cock—greedily needing to paint your insides with his cum, over and over again if he could.

"it feels good, it's so good...." you trailed off, lips pressing together as you muffled a few moans of satisfaction that sounded nearly like his name—the tip of his relentless cock hitting sweet, sweet spots with each charging pound. your hands removing themselves, now dragging and scratching into his back, tugging the flesh leaving continuous marks onto his skin— causing him to wince in blissful pain.

the reverberating sounds of your name rolling off his tongue along with the desperate whines and groans of pleasure only elevated your lust "you're obsessed with my pussy," you whined, head thrown back at the intense plunges against your favored spot.

your promiscuous ways dragging him down in the mud, wanting to rut and fuck you like an untrained animal. that alluring voice of yours, cracking into a moan after you tried so desperately to tease him.

your concaving walls collapsing at his cock, walls with a flowery texture that ran against the pulsating veins of his dick. your wails rushing to his dick alongside your suction— with each inhale making its grasp tighter than before. your folds clasping at the sides of his shaft at every pull.

he place a thumb so kindly pressed at your slippery clit. circling it slow, with rougher presses at each thrust, it’s hood pushing back, feeling your wet, exposed bud nudge at the skin of his thumb. each run around, he could hear it, how your slick found it’s way all the way to your clit, making it harder for his thumb to be held in place.

his body loosened, with his hips now controlled, it’s speed rising with a longer pull and harder pound, body muggy with a thin layer of sweat, with your face buried in the inner corner of his neck.

“i don’t ever want to stop fucking you… your pussy is too good.” his voice ridged and strained.

rhythmical slaps of wet skin colliding as his balls felt a sharp sensation each time it bounced against the sweetness of your hole. your pussy’s heartbeat causing his eyes to roll, holding his breath and letting it out shakily.

“fuck me just like that james… just like that.” your eyes widening with your legs wrapping around his waist. “im close!”

“i don’t want to stop fucking you… i wish i could fuck you nonstop… i want to keep going…” his chest madly rattling against his ribcage.

shivers cascading through your arms as they gripped his hair firmly once again. your beings were joined in such an impassioned, fervid act of lustful ignited bursting flames out of your bodies. “can i..." he breathed out, voice hoarse, “can i breed you… please… please..”

the walls echoed sounds of your repeated pleasure lamentations followed by his needy words and melting into the increasing melody of skin against skin, lead you over the hill, "cum inside! do it baby…" you uttered directly into his eyes, the familiar knot forming at the pit of your abdomen, convusling cunt tightening around his sliding shaft with each thrust.

he couldn’t stop himself, feeling you cum on his cock made him bury himself further inside, hot spurts of his own cum filling you with rolling eyes and harsh gasps. glazed spit lips, bodies trembling from their high, and strained moans.

his arms snake around your body, cum oozing down his balls and thigh. “fuck….” his body not even finished with his high, slow thrust to chase after the leftover high you both breathed out.

“god james… who wouldn’t known you fucked so well…”

laid out on the floor, you both tried to catch your breaths. the contrast between every moment of you knowing one another to now, fucking each other like your life depended on it, you couldn’t help but laugh.

how significant is it to have a simple man— attractive at that— with his usual order of black coffee in your house, fucking you without a care in the world.

you knew… this wouldn’t be the last time.

#james sunderland smut #james sunderland x reader #james sunderland #james sunderland silent hill #james x reader #silent hill 2 #silent hill 2 smut #silent hill x reader

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deathbxnny · 3 months ago

Note

Arcane ladies with a apathetic(?) fem s/o

Not really apathetic but you'll get it

Reader is willing to do some really fucked up shit for them

Manipulation, genocide, torture and other extreme things (she would never do that on them)

And she doesn't even try to hide that she's capable to do it for them

It doesn't help that reader is pretty strong mentally and physically (physically strong enough to break bones like it's nothing)

Strange request? Maybe, but thank you for reading it even if you don't do it :) (sorry for the bad english)

Arcane women with a Fem!s/o that would do anything and everything for them. | Mel, Jinx, Caitlyn x Gn!Reader

I actually had a lot of fun writing this, so thank you for your request! And don't worry, I understood what you meant so your English is just fine!!<33

Content: Reader is unhinged and morally dark grey, established romantic relationships, murder, death, manipulation, wlw, sfw

Reader is asked to be afab with she/her pronouns.

((Not proofread))

The limit is the sky, as they say. And yours goes beyond any measurement possible.

Morals are a suggestion, a human philosophy you didn't bother to abide by, especially when it came to the safety of your partner. Death, lies, and deceit were your strong suit, the only thing you knew to be excellent in the wake of total emotionlessness.

The only thing you cared about was your girlfriend's well-being, and that was it.

You were more than content with this arrangement and didn't try hiding your devotion to her either. She should be proud to have a lover like you after all. No one else would put this much effort into her... and she knows that, right?

》MEL

Mel is torn between her position as a councilor and being your lover. On one hand, she knows that she shouldn't be condoning or pardoning your crimes, no matter how much she feels for you... but on the other hand, the touch and love starved part of her practically beams with excitement at the blood that drips from your hands in her name. To have someone care for her so deeply was certainly not the norm, and so, she often chooses to just loom away.

She'll let you do your thing as long as you try your best and keep it under wraps, since she still had a reputation to uphold and couldn't justify your actions in public for obvious reasons. You two never talk about what you've done otherwise, though, making it an "out of mind, out of sight" situation. This doesn't mean that she won't sometimes watch you go through your extreme training just to see your impressive strength in action.

The moral dilemma of loving you will most likely haunt her forever, but that doesn't mean much to her in the long run. Your love is irreplaceable.

》JINX

You two are the absolute dream team couple, to say the least. The desire and devotion you share for each other is naturally overridden by any morals. Not that either of you ever cared about them to begin with. You fill the streets with terror and chaos, determined to make everyone see the strength of your love... even when you always took it way farther than she did.

Jinx battled with her mental health all the time, the scratchy hallucinations screaming and yelling at her at every mistake. That's what made her appreciate you so much more than others, her heart pounding against her chest whenever you return with bloody hands and tell her the atrocities you've committed in her name. It made her happy to know that someone could be as equally as obsessed with her than she was with them.

She will never let you go for as long as she lives, always the one to tell you how grateful she was for everything and anything you did for her. She knows that no one will ever love her so much ever again if it isn't you doing it.

》CAITLYN

Caitlyn was very much horrified when she found out about everything you've done. You'd argue that this is simply your way of showing love to her, but she had a hard time accepting it. She didn't want you to torture and kill others for her. It wasn't the right thing to do, and nothing she said could make you see that, too. Death and carnage was all the same, if it was in the name of love after all.

Alas, Caitlyn, for some reason, still never turns you in for your crimes, despite her position as an Enforcer. In a way, she's kind of in denial over the whole thing, going as far as to excuse the bloody stains on your clothes or your late night outs that would result in many dead. It wasn't you, surely. Hell, even you outright telling her that it indeed was you wouldn't be enough for her. Ignoring the problem is a much easier strategy than trying to admit that your girlfriend is a terrible person.

And so, you two never speak of it outloud. Deep down, she knows that one day people will catch onto what you're doing and perhaps prosecute you at last... but with how powerful and strong you are, she doubted that that would happen any time soon.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x genderneutral reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane mel #arcane mel x reader #mel #mel x reader #arcane jinx #arcane jinx x reader #jinx #jinx x reader #arcane caitlyn #arcane caitlyn x reader #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman

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berrieluv · 2 years ago

Text

<3; aaron johnson x reader (i think i didn't use pronouns but it's mention that the reader has a vagina) summary: you know damn well, you horny friends. kiki says: this fits contains unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), cheating kink, the feel of guilt that it's never enough to make him stop, i think this smut it's very light, just trying to keep you fed while i work in the angst. also english isn't my first language so i apologize for the bad writing.

me and your husband.

For the public, having you involved in the movie Kraven with Aaron after Bullet Train was just a normal occurrence, two actors working together more than once, nothing that hasn't happen before and nothing that won't happen again.

For Aaron, it was just his masterplan working. He craved you near him, he needed you there. He couldn't function properly anymore without you, without your body and the way your legs wrap around his neck.

His blue eyes are long gone by now, so full with lust he can not think of anything else. He already made you cum three times before you had to take a shower and attend a date, and now here you are again, seizing the day like you started it, with his tongue inside your wet cunt.

He kisses your thigh softly, his hand behind your knee, his mouth marking every inch of your skin with kisses, smelling your dripping pussy and looking amused at the wet spot on the beige sheets.

"You bought them for me?" He moans, looking at your lingerie next to him, the one he just took off the moment you walked back from dinner, his face buried between your thighs, you didn't. You bought them because they were pretty and expensive, and you could afford them "You look so pretty" He says.

His wife is sleeping in the next room, if you get close enough to the wall you could hear her sleep, which was weird, an expensive five stars hotel with thin walls, you must think they would be soundproof for the price. Or maybe it was your guilt, your senses sharpened in shame, making sure you never forget he's a married man.

But maybe you weren't better than that, but why should you. He wanted you, he needed you and loved you even more than you found him attractive, which was to say much.

"Fuck..." You moan when Aaron's tongue was inside your pussy. His hand grabbing your underwear and placing it on your thigh again, grabbing your skin and the lingerie along, the other hand over your belly, keeping you grounded.

Aaron licks the sides of your pussy, his tongue gently going through your folds, he teases your sensitive parts, hitting the right places, he knows how to use his tongue, and it feels like it has been wasted all this time.

Your moans grew louder when two of his fingers are inside you without any previous notice, moving them in and out, his tongue sucking on your clit and you feel yourself getting lost in pleasure.

"Is this good?" He asks out of breath, a big smile plastered across his face, almost like he thought he didn't need anything else but the sweet scent of your dripping cunt.

Was it good? It was fantastic.

"Hold for me, princess?" He asks softly, your legs curled up while your hands keep them up grabbing behind your knees.

He touches your ass, his hand traveling all over every part of your body, his lips are all over your sweet wet cunt, eating like a starving man, making sure every single drop of your wetness goes into his mouth.

"I need you..." He moans against your folds "Fuck, I need you so much"

Aaron takes all of your release, drinking it all, when he looks up his chin is all wet and a spark of proudness in his eyes.

He doesn't even look this proud when he's on a press conference.

"Keep holding your legs" He orders, taking off his jeans and boxers "Good girl" He praises with a smile when he walks back to bed.

You remind silence most of the times, your words consumed by your moans and whimpers, you want him so badly.

"Please..." You finally find the way to speak, your breath heavy and your heart beating faster than it should when he starts thrusting into you. His right hand holding himself on the mattress to not lay all of his weight on you.

His left hand massaging your breasts, treating it like it was a stress ball.

"Shit, princess" He moans, his eyes closing even if he tries to fight it, he loves watching you. He loves the look in your eyes and how they roll, going all blank when he starts thrusting faster.

"Oh!" You moan, and he smirks like a bastard, enjoying knowing he's the one making you feel like this "Oh, God! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You cry, almost chocking in your own pleasure.

"Sh, sh..." He coos "Baby, you're chocking, princess" He chuckles, enjoying your desperation "I'm not even near your throat"

He caresses your cheek with a soft smile, moving slowly down to your throat, applying just the right pressure to make you gasp for air, shutting your moans.

"Don't be so loud..." He demands, it was meant to be teasing, but his voice sounds dominant, his expression is serious and his eyes darkened with lust and need of control "You know Sam is in the next room"

Sam, he doesn't refer as my wife anymore. She stopped being my wife a few months ago, just a few weeks after you became my everything. The air he breathed, not only his wants but his needs.

You feel a warm sensation running through your insides, a loud groan when he lets it out, his cum painting your cunt and dripping down your skin.

"God, I love my little masterpiece" He chuckles, watching your thighs covered by his cunt. "You're tired?"

He asks softly and you nod, his phone starts ringing at the same time you hear his wife walking around their hotel room, you wonder if he hears her.

"Your phone..." You say with your eyes closed when he ignores it and walks to the bathroom.

"Can wait" He says without hesitation.

"What if it's your wife?" You know is her.

"She can wait" Aaron says, it's almost like he doesn't care and a part of you knows he doesn't. "I'll clean you up first, super star"

#aaron johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson fanfic #aaron johnson fanfic #aaron johnson fic #bullet train imagine #bullet train fanfic #bullet train smut #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven the hunter smut #kraven x reader

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ierofrnkk · 5 months ago

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the sum of his parts - steven grant

Summary: You love Steven Grant, and there are some parts of him that stick out in your mind a little more than others. (~1.2k)

Content: 18+, gn!reader but reader has a vagina (no fem pronouns used), very brief & vague oral (f receiving), fingering, egregious use of italics.

a/n: This is the first thing I’ve really ever fully written AND posted!! Forgive me for it being vague and unpolished—I will get better!! I’ve just been so captivated by these boys after watching Moon Knight that I had to write something!

—

You love Steven as a whole, the culmination of all things that make him him, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t notice the little things.

The details.

—

The first thing you loved about Steven was his hair; the way that the curls were always pushed to one side, sitting atop his head like his brush had broken and he’d neglected to buy a new one.

It was one of the first things you touched when you finally had the opportunity to, making up some story about how he’d had a shred of paper stuck to one of his curls—he hadn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

You couldn’t get enough of the soft texture, even after months of getting to experience it. You had your hands in his hair every chance that you got.

When the two of you lay on the couch together, him cuddled against your chest as you watched the next documentary about the evolution of earth’s marine life, or something, you would drag your fingers through his hair idly. He would sigh in appreciation of the gentle touch.

When he’d be in a flurry early in the morning, racing to get ready on time before he missed the bus, you caught him for the briefest moments to smooth your palm across his unruly curls, taming the locks as best you could before he raced out the door.

When he’d settle himself between your thighs, mouth on your cunt like he’d die if you pulled him away, you’d tangle your fingers in those same dark curls, tightening your grip just enough to keep him in place. He always sighed appreciatively then, too.

—

The next thing you’d found yourself loving about Steven were his eyes, always wide like saucers and taking in every ounce of information that they can. The color of them always reminded you of coffee, but specifically the cups that he’d make for you in the early hours of the morning, perfect like no one else could.

You’re stupidly fond of the way he looks at you when you talk—it could be the most mundane thing, like laundry or dinner, and he’d be watching you so intently it’d feel like you’re giving a presentation on newly-unearthed artifacts in Cairo.

You remember the first time he cried in front of you. It was over something that seems so simple now; the two of you had made plans for dinner at your apartment, and he’d shown up late—through no fault of his own, the train wasn’t on schedule—but he’d felt so guilty about it that it brought him to tears. You can still see the way he looked in your mind: brows knit together, those beautifully dark eyes rimmed red and filled with tears.

He’d apologized profusely, and you silenced him with a kiss.

You like the way he looks when he’s half asleep, doing his best to fight his drowsiness to spend as much time with you as physically possible. His gaze is softer, somehow, his eyes half-lidded even with the way he fights to keep them wide open. That’s when you know he’s not going to last much longer before he’s out for the night.

When you’re kissing him, and you pull back for that brief, glorious moment, his eyes are dark, pupils blown with desire in a way that sends a wave of heat to your core.

You don’t miss the way those pretty eyes of his flutter shut whenever you touch him, even if it’s something simple; he’s touch-starved—not that he’ll ever admit that to you—so any physical show of affection is nearly enough to put him over the edge.

You’ve become familiar with the way he drifts, his eyes seeming to haze over and go unfocused—when he goes away for a moment—caught in his own reflection and watching as if there’s something else there with him.

—

You’ve quickly grown to become fond of his hands, in many more ways than just one.

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to hold his hand all the time, to feel the warmth of his palm against your own, fingers interlaced with yours in the way that makes you feel like nothing could separate you two. He made sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.

You’re very grateful for that.

When he takes one of his hundreds of books off of his bookshelf, flipping through page after page as he looks for a specific section, you can’t help but watch his hands. He moves with ease and precision, stark from the way he’s usually fumbling or unsure of where to go. He’s in his element, and you recognize that.

When he joins you on your monthly grocery trip, he insists on bringing all of the bags up in one go—he’s trying to be helpful, even if it means making things more difficult for him; that’s just how Steven is. Selfless. You can’t get enough of the sight of him like that, though, with multiple grocery bags held in each hand, all while he does his best to navigate your apartment complex.

You remember the first time he truly, properly held your hand; he’d done it in such a Steven way that you couldn’t deny him. He’d gone off on some spiel about human evolution and something about how in ancient civilizations, the size of your hands denoted status—you can see where this is going—and he insisted the two of you compared the size of your hands. For the sake of anthropology, of course.

Knowing what he was getting at, you obliged, pressing your palm to his, and without a beat of hesitation, he laced his fingers with your own, a sheepish grin on his face as a result of his boldness. You couldn’t even be mad about it.

Of course, those hands of his are good for more than just holding yours or carrying your groceries.

—

The first time he made you come was with his hands; he was too impatient to even wait to fuck you properly—he just had to touch you—so, he did.

You remember the feeling of his hands on your thighs, shifting and adjusting you until you were in a good position for him. He had made sure to not be too rough with you, even in his desperation. Sweet, considerate Steven.

His hands, as fidgety and hesitant as they usually are, were precise and sure when he touched you. He moved deftly when he found your slit, dragging his fingers through the wetness that’d already gathered there.

It wasn’t long after until one of those same thick fingers pushed into your heat, then another. It’s practiced—efficient— like he’s done this for you a thousand times, even though you both know he hasn’t.

When his thumb had brushed your clit, with just enough pressure to send another wave of heat up your spine, you knew you were done for. He had looked at you with those eyes, pupils blown and eyes half-lidded, and you could tell right then that he was more focused on your pleasure than his own.

When you finish, you card your fingers through his raven curls, holding just enough to bring him close enough that you can kiss him.

He goes willingly, all sweet and pliant as you maneuver him closer, and you’ve never been more grateful to have someone like him.

—

Steven is much, much more than just the sum of his parts, but you sometimes have to put him under a microscope and appreciate everything that makes him him.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight x reader #steven grant smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you #drabbles

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ylangelegy · 5 months ago

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all of the while, it was you ꩜ hyunjin x reader.

── .✦ 💌 reader uses she/her pronouns. includes: idol!hyunjin, café owner!reader, feelings realization, freeform, time skips, fluff, coffee shops & cafés, slice of life, skz ensemble.

── .✦ 🚏 i know the "i-had-no-idea-you-were-an-idol" trope is one of the oldest, most worn clichés in the book, but sometimes you have to release the corny fic into the world so it can stop haunting you 🙂↕️ the title is from landon pigg's falling in love at a coffee shop. originally posted on ao3, but then i orphaned it (lol) so here's its new home! ♡︎

── .✦ 📟 wc: 4,000+

She doesn’t admit this to Hyunjin until much later on, but when he walked into her café the first time, she had thought— as one usually does— that this ethereal boy should be a star of some sorts. A model, an actor.

Where others might have spoken up, she chose to keep it to herself. (A good choice, too. If she had said anything, Hyunjin would have never returned.)

He is shy, at first. He sits at a table far from the door and spends most of his stay doodling in his notebook.

Outside, snow begins to fall.

Hyunjin gets on his phone to call Jeongin over. She steps out from behind the counter and lingers by the window.

Separately, they admire the sign of the times. Hyunjin thinks of romance that can be painted. Her mind goes to warm drinks that can be sold. Briefly, the two share a glance.

They exchange no words— not a single pleasantry about the weather— but Hyunjin does offer up the smallest of smiles, which she returns.

He goes back to his phone. She retreats to the kitchen.

Neither of them have any idea of what was ahead.

That day, they witness the first snow of the year together.

Hyunjin becomes a regular.

He’s never done that before. The most he’s been to an establishment is probably twice, thrice, before the place is overrun with fans and he has to find a new hiding spot.

He doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. But there are some things he wants to keep to himself, and this café is one of them. He doesn’t realize how often he’s gone until, one evening, the barista at the counter says, “Your usual?” instead of waiting for him to speak.

“Yes, please,” he says. He slides over the exact payment and sits at the table he likes the most.

Through trial and error, he figured that the café had little to no people nearing its closing time. And so he only ever stopped by in the evening, usually after practicing stages and before heading home.

She serves him his drink, his ‘usual’, and Hyunjin blurts out something that’s not his average ‘thank you’ and ‘please’.

“What’s your name?” he asks, because this is not the type of café where the barista has a name card on their apron. He flushes and goes on. “It’s just— I don’t think I ever got your name.”

She laughs kindly and answers. It’s a pretty name, Hyunjin thinks to himself.

“And you?” she inquires politely.

There’s a seed of suspicion in him, a flicker of doubt. Did she really not know him? He had been tricked before by people feigning ignorance.

But her expression is curious, and earnest, and he decides to give her the benefit of doubt.

“Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin,” she repeats, as though testing the name out on her tongue. A fleeting thought passes his mind: My name sounds safe with her.

She smiles. “It’s nice to finally know you, Hyunjin. Thanks for always coming to my café.”

“This is yours?” he says, a little dumbstruck. He had assumed she was just an employee.

“It is.” There’s a proud gleam in her eyes. “It’s always been my dream to own one, and here I am.”

“It’s one of my favorite places,” says Hyunjin. He’s not even exaggerating; he means it. He adores the floor-to-ceiling windows, the intricate woodwork, the potted plants in every corner.

Her smile brightens, widens. She thanks Hyunjin and is about to say more when the bell by the door chimes. “Oh, a customer. I’m sorry.”

“It’s no problem. Go ahead.”

She rushes over to the counter. Hyunjin sinks a bit into his seat, doing his best to avoid the newcomer’s gaze.

That day, Hyunjin learns how a name can make a world’s difference.

One evening, Hyunjin asks her, “What kind of music do you like?”

She looks up from bookkeeping and tongues the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. She names a handful of genres, none of which might fit the bill for Stray Kids.

Over the past weeks, Hyunjin had gotten to know her. Her love for coffee and baked goods. Her impulsive decision to move to Korea. Her loneliness, dulled only by the steady flow of patrons visiting her shop.

There are still some weeks where he thinks it’s too good to be true. To be undiscovered this long, to meet someone who didn’t know a thing about his industry, to strike up a friendship that had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

She asks a question of her own. “Do you have any pets?”

Hyunjin brightens at the opportunity to talk about Kkami.

That day, he remembers what it’s like— to be curious, to be known.

It occurs to Hyunjin, quite suddenly, that he won’t be seeing her for a while.

The thought only comes as his plane is taking off.

He had seen her over the weekend. She sought his honest opinion on drinks she planned to add to her menu.

At the time, he hadn’t thought of bringing it up. What would he say, anyway? I’m going on a worldwide tour.

Miserable, he fiddles with his phone until Changbin levels him a firm look.

“There’s in-flight Wi-Fi,” he says. “Do you want me to get the password for you?”

“Yes, please.”

Once connected to the internet, Hyunjin searches up the café’s socials and finds its number, which is effectively her number. His heart leaps out of his chest.

He stares at the blinking cursor in the KakaoTalk chat. He had never given out his socials to her out of fear she would realize who he was, what type of life he lived. Now, he was considering using his personal number to message her.

It feels like too much. Hyunjin places his phone face down onto his lap. He wasn’t going to text her. He shouldn’t. Right?

In the next two hours, he probably checks and puts down his phone a dozen times. Fed up, Changbin eventually groans, “Just do what you have to do already!”

Hyunjin, red-faced, picks up his phone. Changbin is right. He keys in a quick message to the café’s account and hits send before he can overthink it.

Hi, this is Hyunjin. I usually come on weekday nights. I might be gone for a while; I’m heading abroad for work. I’m just letting you know, so you don’t think I hate your coffee or anything. Stay healthy and don’t work too hard.

He exhales in relief, only to be startled by a notification mere minutes later.

Hi, Hyunjin, she responds. You’re so funny, but also right. I would have been sad if I thought I lost my favorite customer. Stay safe, okay? Send me photos of nice cafés during your travels!

Another notification pops up. It’s weird to be messaging on the shop’s account. LOL. Here’s my personal number.

Hyunjin can feel his heart hammering underneath his chest. He’s ecstatic to have her number, sure, and an excuse to message her while he’s away, but he’s mostly flustered by a small phrase in her text. ‘My favorite customer.’

It might be something she says to everyone; Hyunjin doesn’t care. He suppresses a wide smile from a Changbin eyeing him with open curiosity.

That day, Hyunjin remembers what it feels like to have a crush.

Hyunjin makes good on her offhanded request.

She receives numerous photos of coffee shops and bakeries across the world. Look at this catacomb concept, he says of a café in London. I thought the menu here was good, he notes with a picture from Hanoi.

I want whatever job you have, she texts back after he sends a video of a patisserie in New York. You’re always going to such cool places.

He doesn’t respond for a couple of hours. She worries, briefly, if she had said something wrong. She brushes it off as the timezone difference.

He texts as she’s trying to whip up a new batch of croissants. It’s nice, you’re right, but sometimes I wish I had a job where I could just stay in Korea, he replies. I’ve been to all these places and I think your coffee is still the best.

She wipes the flour off her hands so she can shoot back, You’re just saying that so you can get free drink next time.

He sends a GIF of a cartoon cat crying. I mean it, he texts. I miss you.

She nearly drops her bowl of batter when she sees what he said. Thankfully, he follows up with, LOL, sorry, sent too soon. *I miss your lattes.

Riiight, she types, then erases.

If you miss me, just say so, she types, then erases.

I miss you, too.

She erases that and sends instead, LOL. I’ll be sure to perfect it by the time you come back.

That day, she burns a batch of croissants as she tries to figure out how she feels.

The answer reveals itself to her soon enough.

She’s just about to pack up shop when she hears the front door’s bell. She begins to instinctively apologize about being closed for the night when she sees who the guest is.

Hyunjin, with two paper bags in his hands.

“That’s too bad,” he says dramatically. “I guess I’ll have to give these away to someone else, then.”

She laughs; he grins. He places down the bags on a table and asks, “Think you could spare a few minutes for your favorite customer?”

“Of course,” she says without hesitation. “Give me a second.”

She flips the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’, turns off online deliveries on her phone, and leaves all but one light open.

“I’m only willing to stay overtime for you,” she laughingly tells a Hyunjin who is watching her do her closing routine. “I can make you a drink, though…”

“No need.” He waves her over. “I got you some stuff.”

“You didn’t have to,” she says as she tries to peek into the bags. “When did you get back?”

“Yesterday. I went straight to my parents, though, before coming here.”

“How was all the traveling?”

“Tiring, fun. I’m glad to be home.”

She offers him a gentle smile. “I’m glad you’re back, too,” she says. In the sparse light of the café, it’s hard to tell for sure, but she thinks she sees Hyunjin blush.

He shoves one of the bags forward. “Here are some decorations for the café. They’re nothing fancy, and it’s still up to you whether you want to put them up…”

Hyunjin trails off as she brings out one decoration after the other. She’s overwhelmed. They’re all gorgeous and fitting of her café’s aesthetic.

“Hyunjin,” she says, awed. “I can’t possibly take these.”

But Hyunjin is shaking his head and already gesturing towards the other bag. “This one has a bunch of coffee packets I got from different places. I thought you might like them.”

The thoughtfulness of it draws a disbelieving laugh out of her. “That’s it. You’re getting free drinks for a month,” she says seriously.

Hyunjin laughs, too. “That’s not necessary.”

“Oh, it is very necessary. This—” She gestures at all of Hyunjin’s gifts. “Is a really nice thing for you to do. Thank you, Hyunjin. Really.”

The smile on his face makes her pulse race.

“You’re welcome,” he says. “Anything for my favorite barista.”

That day, she concedes: She may have romantic feelings for this particular customer.

It takes Hyunjin a few weeks after that to work up the courage to ask her out.

When he found out her favorite Disney movie was putting out a sequel, he knew this was a golden opportunity. So, one evening, he asks if she’s free that weekend.

She says yes, because it’s her favorite film, but also— because it’s Hyunjin.

Neither of them refer to it as a date. It goes unspoken, is undeniable in its implication. They are two friends who are obviously attracted to each other. This was supposed to be the first time they meet outside her shop.

Hyunjin chooses a small movie theater and buys the tickets in advance. He texts her the details and she says she’ll be there.

Since immigrating, most of her time has just been going back and forth to her café and her apartment. She took cabs more often than not. She avoided tourist spots and malls, and only ever went out to do groceries or buy supplies.

So, that evening, when she decides to try taking the bus, it is her first time at the stop. She sends a text to Hyunjin saying she’s on her way, looks up from her phone, and sees him.

Except it’s not him in the flesh. It’s him, on the bus stop’s LED screen. Nearly unrecognizable.

The Hyunjin she knows wears dark hoodies and unbranded caps. The Hyunjin on the screen is dressed from head to toe in designer. She stares, slack-jawed, as text appears. ‘Hwang Hyunjin: Our Shining Star.’

A student sitting near her claps their hands. “Oh, are you a STAY, too? Is Hyunjin your bias?” they ask.

She clears her throat. “Yes,” she lies, and the student nods excitedly.

“My bias is Felix,” the teenager raves. “I guess we’re both danceracha fans, ha-ha!”

The student boards the next bus that comes. It’s the same bus that’s supposed to pass by the mall where she has to go, but she stays rooted in her seat.

She finds herself doing inventory on what she knows about Hyunjin. He didn’t like talking about his job, only ever mentioning it in vague terms. It involved a lot of traveling. It was tiring, he said. But fun.

Her phone dings. Hyunjin’s message reads, Getting us popcorn. What flavor do you want?

She looks at the text, then back up at the LED screen. Could it be a twin, maybe? No, she thinks. They had the same name.

Instead of answering his question, she replies, Who are you?

Hyunjin responds with a sticker of a whale with several question marks over its head.

What’s a ‘STAY’? Who’s Felix? What’s a ‘danceracha’? Why do you have a poster at the bus stop?, she asks in a succession of texts.

She repeats, Who are you?

In the cinema lobby, Hyunjin feels his blood run cold. He can’t breathe, suddenly. In his excitement to invite her out, he hadn’t accounted for the dozens of birthday banners around the city.

He practically bolts out of the mall. He flags down a taxi that takes him back to his apartment, where Chan, Changbin, and Jisung are starting a new Netflix series.

“Hey, Hyune. I thought you’d be back—” Chan falters, then gets to his feet. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin hadn’t realized there were tears streaming down his face until Jisung pauses their show and Changbin rushes to grab a box of tissues.

“I think I messed up,” Hyunjin says, his voice barely above a whisper.

She goes home that night and resists the urge to search him up. She wants to hear it from him, who he is, and why he had been so keen to hide it.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, fights back sobs as he admits to his friends what had happened. How badly he had wanted to be normal, for once, and how it was now blowing up in his face.

When she falls asleep, she dreams of a darkened movie house— one bucket of popcorn, shy fingers dancing around each other’s touch.

Hyunjin tosses and turns in bed for hours. Her texts glare up at him, unanswered. Who are you, Hyunjin?

That day, the weather forecast is dreary. The rainy season has come early.

She hardly has time to think of Hyunjin.

The rain brings in more customers. Those seeking shelter from the downpour, those in need of a warm drink.

On Monday, two boys swoop in with ridiculously oversized umbrellas.

“Your blueberry cheesecake looks good,” the smaller of them says. “Can I have a slice and an iced coffee too, please?”

“An iced coffee in this rain?” The taller sniffles dejectedly. “Jisung-ah, that’s impractical.”

Jisung glances at her for support.

“I think iced coffee can be enjoyed in any weather,” she offers.

Jisung looks pleased. “See, Minho-hyung?”

Minho rolls his eyes but smiles slightly. “I think I’ll stick to my hot coffee. One espresso, please,” he says, and she punches in their orders.

The one named Jisung shoots several looks at her throughout their stay. Minho is mostly indifferent. (Or, rather, more discreet in stealing glances.) They leave a tip in her jar on the way out, and talk about her on the way home.

On Tuesday, a boy wearing a baseball jersey comes up to the counter.

“Do you make all these yourself?” he asks while looking at the menu.

“I do,” she says. “I came up with most of the recipes, too.”

His eyes shine. “Can I have an iced Americano with syrup for takeout? And—” He pauses, as though deciding on whether he should continue. “Do you mind if I watch you make it?”

She grins. She enjoyed customers like this. She invites the boy across the counter and walks him through the machinery, the procedure, the ingredients.

“Thank you so much,” he says once it’s all done, when he has his to-go cup in his hand.

“It’s no problem. If you ever want to learn more about making coffee, my door’s always open.”

He smiles. “Thanks.” Another thoughtful pause. “I’m Seungmin, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Seungmin,” she says as she gives her own name.

On Wednesday, three boys come in at noon.

They all don name tags over their chests.

“Binnie,” she reads out loud. The three boys balk, as though surprised. She smiles sheepishly at their reaction and points at the tags. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shock you.”

The one with the tag that says ‘Chan’ flashes her a lopsided grin. “We came from an event. Must’ve forgotten to take these off.”

“No problem. What can I get you guys?”

‘Lix’ scans the display of pastries and asks, “How much for everything?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Pardon me?”

“We’re going to be feeding a lot of people,” Binnie explains. “Will it be an inconvenience if we take all of your food?”

“No, not at all,” she says quickly. “But it should cost around…” She does the numbers, lets them know.

Chan nods. “That’s alright. We’ll have it all for takeout, please.”

Bewildered, she begins to pack all the food into containers and paper bags. This had never happened to her. She would have to close shop early.

“Please choose three drinks,” she tells them. “I’ll throw them in for free.”

They look surprised. “You don’t have to,” Lix says sheepishly.

“You guys bought out my stock for the day,” she says. “I’m very grateful, and I’d love to make you a drink in exchange.”

After more of her insistence, the three reluctantly pick out their beverages. She sends them off with bags full of pastries, and large coffees for each.

On Thursday, a familiar boy chats with her about the rain.

As she’s making his order, she tries to place where she saw him. She serves him his coffee and tentatively asks, “Are you Jeongin?”

He draws back a bit and cautiously replies in the affirmative.

“You came here once,” she’s quick to explain. “It was snowing.”

Jeongin nods. “Right. I’m surprised you remember.”

“You were with Hy—” She falters. “Your friend.”

He looks almost amused. “Hyunjin,” he finishes, and she nods.

“Hyunjin,” she repeats through the lump in her throat. “Well, excuse me.”

“Sure.”

She ducks back over to the counter and opens her KakaoTalk. Still nothing. She considers messaging him, but decides against it. She wants answers. If Hyunjin can’t give her any, then how can their relationship progress any further?

That day, Jeongin makes a beeline for Hyunjin’s apartment.

The rain is so bad that barely any customers come.

She contemplates closing early when the bell rings, and in comes Hyunjin.

Despite his umbrella, he is drenched from head to toe. He tracks mud into her café and drips rainwater onto her floor. She stares, mouth agape, at the audacity of this man to show up after a weeks’ worth of radio silence.

She’s about to tell him off when he blurts out, “I’m Hwang Hyunjin.”

“I’m part of a group called Stray Kids. Our fans are called ‘STAY’,” he says. “Felix is my friend, and ‘danceracha’ is the subunit we’re part of. I love dancing. It’s what gives me life.”

He goes on, “I paint. I’m trying to get into photography, too. I like cold coffee, romance films, and you.”

She starts at the sudden confession. “What?”

“I really, really like you,” he says breathlessly. “I want to keep coming to this café. I want to watch a movie with you. But— if we’re going to do that— you need to know who I am.”

“You’re a dancer,” she repeats awkwardly.

“Yes. I sing and rap, too.”

She feels dizzy. “And you like me?”

He’s suddenly nervous, can’t meet her eyes. “Yes,” he says, his voice barely audible over the downpour beyond them. “I do.”

The rain falls heavily on the roof, and it is the only sound for a few precarious moments, as the two people in the café hang in delicate balance.

She makes a choice, then and there.

“Let me get you a towel,” she says. “And what coffee do you want? Your usual?”

He smiles so wide that the storm outside becomes nearly irrelevant. “Yes, please.”

That day, they sit at his favorite table and make plans.

When she finally, properly meets all of the boys, she reels backwards in abject shock.

Hyunjin places a hand on the small of her back to steady her. The seven boys laugh at her reaction, though not unkindly.

“For the record, we hadn’t planned it,” Jeongin says. He passes her a drink.

Felix— whose tag had said ‘Lix’, then— helps take her coat. “I really liked your scones! Maybe one day we could bake together,” he says cheerfully.

“Yes, of course,” she stutters.

“Hey, Felix.” Hyunjin wags a finger in his friend’s face. It’s not threatening at all. “That’s my girlfriend!”

“I just wanted scones,” Felix says defensively, and more good-natured laughter ripples through the room.

The attention shifts away from the new couple as the boys begin to lay out food onto the table for Changbin’s birthday celebration.

Jisung notices her dumbstruck expression and gives her a reassuring smile. “Are you surprised?” he asks.

“A little.” She grins back at Jisung. “You’re the one who likes cheesecake.”

He laughs at the comment. “And your cheesecake is one of the best! I’m glad you brought it today.”

Hyunjin interrupts their conversation to steer her towards the kitchen.

He juts his lower lip out in a pout. “I don’t think bringing you here was a good idea,” he says, half-serious. “I’m worried they’re all madly in love with you.”

The absurdity of it makes her giggle. “You’re insane.” She stands on her tiptoes and presses a cheek on to her boyfriend’s cheek. “I love you, though.”

“Damn right,” Hyunjin says. He tries to steal another kiss but she laughs, ducks away.

“We have to go back to your friends,” she says pointedly as Hyunjin wraps his arms around her waist.

“Five more minutes,” he whines, and she can’t help herself. She smiles.

“Five more minutes.”

That day, they are happy. They are known. And it is more than enough.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #( just me and a whooole lotta backposting )#(🥡) notebook #(⚡️) page: skz

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