#post divider by cafekitsune
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catscidr · 9 months ago
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// how genshin men would kabedon you //
i. note — im stuck in bed because of cramps help me i wanted to be productive today but i can't Write Good…… so i wrote something self indulgent silly to get my mind off of the pain instead _(´ཀ`」 ∠) _ ueue ii. cw — fluff/crack, gn!reader, suggestive if you squint rly hard, you're shorter than them in the third part for convenience's sake, not rly proofread im melting
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standard kabedon with one arm ↳ alhaitham, diluc, zhongli ˎˊ˗
immediately understood what you meant when you asked if he could “kabedon” you. he either he read about it somewhere or it’s just something he picked up from overhearing others talk about it in passing— you’d tease him for being “nosy” if you weren’t so flustered at the sight of him looking down at you with such a straight face.
your gaze travels down from his face, to his neck, to his bicep… close to you… and his forearm… that’s even closer to you… you’re so focused on his strong masculine arm that you don’t catch the slight blush tinting his cheeks.
whew. is it just you or is it getting hot in here?
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standard kabedon but with both arms ↳ albedo, xiao, lyney ˎˊ˗
he either knew what a kabedon was already or you had to explain it to him and he… misunderstood a little bit.
or maybe he didn’t. maybe it was on purpose. maybe caging you in with both of his arms was what he was planning all along while you sheepishly explained what a kabedon entailed…!
or maybe he doesn’t want to admit that he zoned out while you were talking because all he thought about was how cute you looked, all flushed and embarrassed. yeah. that’s definitely not what happened. of course not
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invades your personal space and backs you up into the wall without even using his arms ↳ pantalone, ayato, dottore ˎˊ˗
he pretended not to know what a was kabedon because’s he’s mean. while you tried to explain what it entailed (while sweating nervously from how hard he was staring at you), he slowly closed the distance between the two of you before you realized just how close he was.
he was taller than you, so he had to bend down at the waist to be at eye-level with you… and the action didn’t help your poor little heart. you could smell his cologne and gods did you feel your knees go weak.
but on the bright side, if your legs give out he’ll be close enough to catch you before you bust your head open! such a gentleman
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forget using arms, he’ll use his leg to pin you to the wall instead ↳ itto, cyno, childe ˎˊ˗
why be like everyone else when he can show off instead? you think he might have been a bird in another life because this isn’t a kabedon, it has to be some sort of courting ritual or… something.
at least it’s working, though. your face is flushed, you’re holding back a smile and your heart is racing against your ribcage.
the only downside if that your face is buried in your hands; if it wasn’t, you’re sure your curiosity would get the better of you and you’d end up looking. don’t ask where, you know what i mean
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….you kabedon him. ↳ wanderer, baizhu, neuvillette, webttore ˎˊ˗
he either straight up refused to do it or was so utterly puzzled by what on earth a “kabedon” even was that you had to show him.
cue a strained gasp, his brows either raised to the heavens or furrowed so hard he would immediately get wrinkles, and a blush that you would never let yourself forget. maybe you should do this more often.
but be careful, he might turn the tables and catch you off guard to kabedon you someday as payback. oh no! terrible, i know
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eclipseslayer · 4 months ago
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CAREFUL
• TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT
• SUMMARY:Toji comes back from work and finds you asleep. Drawn by temptation, he decides to indulge in something that he needs to be careful with doing.
• CW:DARK CONTENT. Dub-con. Somnophelia. Fingering. Creampie.
• WC:1.4k
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Toji is careful when you're sleeping.
He is every single time.
He presses a knee down onto the bed, his weight dips into the mattress as he crawls over on top of you. He smiles softly, and his eyes dart to the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand.
It's late.
11:26 p.m.
You're in bed, just as he suspected you'd be when he got home, and he's pleased to find you sound asleep. He reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses your jaw gently.
"Pretty girl..." He murmurs into your ear before slowly beginning to caress your body. His hand starts at your shoulders and moves down until his fingers rest at the tips of the covers. He grips them and moves them down, slowly—so he's careful not to wake you—exposing your lower-half of your body. He hums lowly, pleased to find you wearing only panties.
His hand slowly moves down your body once again. Rough, calloused hands glide over your smooth skin, making that pleasing contrasting sound that makes Toji sigh, and, slowly, he tests the water by tugging on the hem of your panties slightly.
You shift, and quickly Toji's eyes dart up to your face.
You're still sleeping, but he knows that you might wake soon.
It made no difference to him, as he was pretty sure he'd be able to see your pussy either way, but still, he'd rather not disturb you since you look so peaceful, sleeping away.
Toji makes another attempt at tugging at your panties. His eyes dart back up to your face to double-check, and, once he sees no further indication of waking up from you, he resumes, slowly pulling down your underwear. With a flick, they fall off and he tosses them to the side.
He smirks to himself, his lip scar twitches and his eyes zero in on your lower half of your body. He sighs and pushes your legs apart. He grin widens upon seeing your pussy, and, with it already being wet, it makes him even more pleased.
He sighs and reaches forward, and gently prods at the opening of your pussy. He groans lowly at the feeling, and he feels his cock twitch with need once he feels your thick walls wrap around the tips of his thick fingers.
Already suckin' me in, he thinks to himself with a grin.
"Mmm..."
Toji snaps his head up at the sound of your sudden whimper, and sees your forehead crinkle. He stills his fingers for a moment, watching as your expression turns from confused to relaxed again in just a few mere seconds.
He resumes once more and pushes his fingers deeper, and he groans at how good your walls feel wrapped around his fingers. His mind races with how good you're going to feel around his cock, and how he can hardly wait to get inside you, but for now he needs to remain patient.
He needs to stretch you out with his fingers first before he can make any movement for you to take his cock.
But... holy fuck. His cock is aching. It strains so tightly against his pants that he can hardly withhold it in. He looks down at the prominent bulge showing in his grey sweatpants and he furrows his eyebrows.
This is damn embarrassing, he huffs at himself and frowns before looking back up at you again. He should be ashamed for liking this so much, fingering you while you're asleep, but he honestly can't help it.
You look so sweet and peaceful, and, knowing that he's doing something so taboo has his cock irritabily hard.
It's unfathomable, really, how hard he is, but again, he can't help it.
He sighs, dismissing his thoughts about how ashamed and embarrassed he should be, and continues to finger you. He curls his fingers which elicits a wet squelching sound from you which sparks a flame within him.
It's an eager flame—one that desires more, as fire does. It licks at his core, barely kindling, but as his mind races, the fire grows, burning at his insides to satiate his eager desires.
His eyes flick over your wet pussy, and the sight alone is enough for him to make a quick decision.
He pulls down his sweatpants, and he slides them off his legs. His weight shifts on the bed as he slides them off and tosses them to the side, which causes you to stir.
His eyes widen when he sees you stirring.
It seems like he's not as careful as he used to be.
You rub your eyes when you come to, and you blink slowly, looking up at your boyfriend who hovers over you.
"Toji...?" You groan groggily and Toji hushes you, gently kissing you on the mouth. It's quick and chaste.
"Shh, sweetheart. Go back to sleep," he hushes you in a warm tone and offers you a reassuring smile.
However, you can clearly see your boyfriend half naked on top of you. You shift and sit up on your elbows and you look up at him.
"What are you..."
Toji doesn't give you a chance to ask as he quickly shuts you up by pushing in his cock, slowly, past your warm, aching lips, he lets out a groan once his hips are flushed with yours and you gasp, your eyes widen quickly upon realization.
"Oh..." You moan softly, and your head fills with butterflies, making you realize what's going on.
"Told ya to go back to sleep. Can ya do that f'me?" Toji whispers into your ear as he slowly moves his hips, thrusting in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.
"Y-Yeah..." You murmur, and you feel your eyes get heavy as Toji rocks back and forth at that deliciously slow pace.
"Mmhmm... good... that's my girl," Toji hums into your ear and gently nips below it. "Just go t'sleep f'me."
With a few more thrusts, you're slowly rocked back to sleep, going to sleep like a baby as your body gently rocks back and forth from his slow thrusts.
Toji smirks to himself once he sees you finally snoozing again, and he sighs, now laying flat on top of you with his weight against you like a weighted blanket; his arms at the sides of your head.
His hips continue to roll into you, his cock filling you up with each thrust. He only can groan and curse under his breath from how good you feel. You're so tight and warm, and it leaves him a mess. Despite how much he claims to have control over himself when it comes to your pussy, he truly has none.
You have him trapped, like a lamb to a wolf, you have him under your thumb, as he'd do anything to be inside of you at any given time, which is why he's so drawn to you when you're asleep. He feels as if you're just waiting for him to take you, so, he does.
He makes love to your pussy, moving in and out, relishing in the feeling of how tightly you are wrapped around him, your walls pulsing as he moves, and the soft sounds that your pussy makes—all of it makes him reel, and it makes that fire inside of him roar as each stroke satiates that burning desire.
It burns hotly, and madly, and he's feeding it with each movement he makes.
He chases that burning desire as his thrusts get quicker. Although, he's still careful, not wanting to wake you again. He refrains from making his thrusts so sharp and punctuated, so he settles for short, quick thrusts that make his cock twitch.
His hands grip the pillows behind your head as he groans again, feeling that fire burn hotly inside of him, allowing him to get close.
Oh fuck.
He's so close, and your pussy feels so good—fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fuck.
His rythem gets messed up as he nears the edge, and, with a few more thrusts, he's cumming.
He groans, and he slaps his hips against yours in one final thrust, spilling his seed inside of you.
He sighs, hanging his head into your shoulder as his body falls limp against you.
He lays there, enjoying the sense of euphoria that's overcome him. He blinks slowly, feeling his head become heavy and his eyelids droop, until finally, he falls asleep, still buried inside of you.
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xxgrimml0vrxx · 9 months ago
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a/n sorry I’ve been gone for so long, life is crazy but here’s more Mammon stuff that’s been heavy on my mind 𓄿
⚠️warnings⚠️ breeding, afab reader (no pronouns but the word ��pussy’) Mammon being greedy.
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Mammon has a breeding kink and I will not be argued with. he just does.
Especially in spring, (February to May is when crows typically breed and nest) his mind filled with thoughts of bending you over anywhere and stuffing you with his cum.
He’ll even freeze mid-conversation imagining you plump and round with a child. his child. In his pretty little human.
He’ll go fucking feral for it.
“That’s my good human.....ya look so good underneath me treasure~” Mammon moans as he pounds himself into you.
You don’t remember how many times you’ve cum by now, tears running down your face as you gasp and moan trying desperately to catch your breath.
Mammon just laughs softly as he presses soft kisses to your chapped lips and sweaty face.
The fucked out look on your face makes his cock throb, and he has to look away before he cums too quickly.
Mammon presses his body into yours, face in your neck. His fast thrusts speed up again, the room finning with the sound of sweaty sink slapping against skin.
“If only ya knew what you did to me. You know how crazy this little pussy makes me? Do ya know how bad I need ya sugar? ‘m tellin’ ya it feels like I’m addicted to you….” His voice is low and breathy right in your ear and you whine, nodding your head…..but then again your brain is too fuzzy to really make out what he’s saying.
Mammon laughs again and then bites down on the junction between your neck and your shoulder. It’s what sends you over the edge once more, and milks him dry, moaning each other’s name as you cum together.
Mammon is still shuddering for a full minute after his orgasm. And his cock is still hard inside you, “Ya didn’t think we were done did ya treasure?”
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toxicanonymity · 4 months ago
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DOMESTICATION
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MR. GHOSTFACE x F!READER 🔪 1.8K WORDS SUMMARY: He has his way with you while you're stuck. WARNINGS: 18+ Noncon, unsafe PIV, knife/blood, collar. Inspired by this scene and ask 🔪 Divider 🔪 MY FICS
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Down on all fours like the prey you were, you tore the cloudy, plastic flap off its hinges and began to squeeze through the little door. You thought to scream but choked on the air you drew in. With your head through the hole, you coughed and glanced around. No one in sight. Fallen leaves tumbled and scraped across the driveway over the muffled sounds of the party.
No one was coming to save you.
You managed to wriggle halfway out, but no further. In the process of trying, your skirt got all bunched up. The cool air of the garage was hitting your ass, and your lace panties with their heart shaped cutout were doing nothing to help.
He had to be enjoying this. Probably admiring his knife with a smug tilt of his mask. Why was he so quiet?
You stopped struggling, taking a moment to catch your breath and think. He should've caught you by now. Was there any chance he left the garage? Any chance he wouldn't kill you?
He didn't have a habit of leaving them alive.
When you began to struggle again, a weak motor droned awake, making your stomach drop. The garage door began to lift, and the bottom edge of it dug into your stomach. Your heart sank with dread. Within seconds you’d likely be dead or mangled. Seconds, IF you were lucky. The thought of him dragging out your demise was even worse. You had seen his crime scenes.
Your knees lifted off the ground as the door made its ascent.
“Please,” you begged, shoes sliding against the floor.
The garage door creaked as it came to a halt. Your feet pedaled in futility, searching for the floor. You lifted your chest, trying to wriggle backwards. The only way out of this cursed little door-–if there even was a way out-–led right to his knife.
“Please, please, I won't run. I'll be good,” you begged through tears.
Silence. Unlike him.
“I'll be good,” you repeated quieter. "Please, Mr. Ghostface."
The motor started again, and you winced. But the door began to lower, allowing you a moment of relief as your bare knees met the cool, smooth floor.
His footsteps got louder and clearer as he crossed the space. Despite being unable to see him, you knew his presence loomed behind you-–you could feel it in your bones.
Sure enough, two gloved hands gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body for a moment and spreading your legs before setting your knees down further apart.
He made a place for himself between your knees, spreading them even wider. The smooth fabric of his robe pooled over your legs with him between them. He ran his gloved hands up your torso from your hips to your waist, pushing your skirt up further so it was up around your navel. Then, two satin thumbs lightly brushed your skin, tracing the heart-shaped cutout of your underwear.
After a moment of rustling behind you, a gloved finger slotted between your panties and ass. He pulled the garment out from your body, then the elastic tension released with a slice of his knife.
More rustling. His movement made the robe graze your butt. You weren't sure if you were imagining the sound of his belt coming undone behind you, but the thought of it made your face heat up.
The heavy fabric of his robe lifted off your calves, removing any doubt about what he was about to do. You tried to ignore the way your pussy throbbed.
The smooth head of his cock nudged your entrance, then slid wetly along your slit, forward and back. You hadn't realized just how aroused you were until feeling cock glide so smoothly against your well lubricated cunt. The head lingered at your front, nudging just the right spot. Your hips tilted all on their own, and he paused before sliding back to your wet little hole, resting the curve of his tip just inside.
He gripped your hips and pushed forward, intruding into your tight, warm sleeve with his thick, hard cock. Inch by inch, his stiff manhood pushed its way into you, the pressure of his girth pushing the breath out of your lungs. He slid all the way in without much difficulty and paused after bottoming out.
You took a much needed breath.
The skin of your chest radiated warmth. Your whole upper body was hot, despite the cool air.
Your lower body was warm and stuffed.
Two big, gloved hands wrapped around your thighs, then lifted. Your body lurched forward as far as it could, then he pulled you back on him, bottoming out deeper before he let your weight back down.
You braced your forearms on the driveway and he moved his hands up to hold your hips. He withdrew most of his length then squeezed your hips and pulled you back again as he slammed all the way back in. This wasn't bad… he was slow, almost careful.
Almost as though he could hear your thoughts, he seemed to drop all restraint. He buried his cock in you at a steadily increasing pace. You were shaken by just how good he felt inside you.
You bit your arm to stifle your moans, but it was no use. He'd have to hear your sounds of pleasure, as humiliating as it was. You removed your mouth from your bicep, leaving a string of spit as you took a deep breath.
As you inhaled the night air, it smelled like someone was having a bonfire... Someone, somewhere had come outside. Maybe even the neighbors.
But you didn't cry for help.
It was as though the cock in your cunt had gagged your throat, paralyzing you. It couldn't be that you didn't want him to stop, could it? No, you told yourself.
With every thrust, it felt more like a lie.
The rhythm of his pounding made your breasts jiggle. Your arms and wrists rubbed against the driveway, but you hardly felt it. Any discomfort was drowned out by the pleasant stretch of his girth, and the grip of your pussy clinging to his length as it pushed through you.
You closed your eyes and went somewhere else, giving into the feel-good chemicals coming to boil in your blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was the rush of survival and how much was his dick, but the combination had you hurtling toward the stratosphere. Full, you were packed full. God, it felt good. Even better, the more you let yourself feel it.
There was something freeing about completely submitting to his will. Letting him use you like a fucktoy. Giving in, letting him win, you could relax and let it all wash over you. With your body held in his hands and wrapped around his cock, you felt weightless. There was no longer pressure to fight back or flee. The only pressure was low in your gut, building toward something unthinkable. Closer with each heavy stroke.
You spasmed with a whimper.
He abruptly sped up to jackhammer pace, pushing you to the brink within seconds. You rode that edge for longer than you thought anyone could keep up that pace. You remembered to breathe, and then you saw stars. The hair on your neck stood up as you clung to the ethereal force that rippled through your loins. Pleasure shot through your core to each limb.
He slowed down as you clenched around him, then bottomed out deeper. It was like he’d created more space in you and packed it with more cock than you ever thought you'd take.
Until the warmth began to spread inside, you didn't realize he was coming. He had given no outward indication of it. You could hardly distinguish your throbbing from his, until yours faded and he was still twitching.
The grip of his hands eased up as he finished. He held you with your ass flush against his wiry hair, anchoring you. Plugging you.
After a minute, it started to feel colder outside. You felt more exposed, vulnerable, but still dared to imagine he might leave you alive.
One hand let go of you, and his robe shifted, brushing the back of your thigh. He pulled back your ruined underwear again. This time, he cut through the side and took it all the way off. Then, the surprisingly warm flat of his blade pressed against the side of your butt cheek. It slid up over the curve of your flesh.
Your heart pounded, reminding you to fear for your life.
The metal left your skin, only for the point of the blade to then prickle the center of your lower back. He held you still, and his cock twitched inside you as he began to draw blood.
You pleaded, “don't," but your insides throbbed.
A sharp, white heat followed the blade, curving upward, out, and down toward your crack. He repeated it on the other side to complete the heart. Your ears burned and pounded with their own pulse. Your inner ears began to ache.
Finally, his cock slid out of you, and after a moment of jostling, he got out from between your legs. Then, facing your side, his robe grazed your back as he hovered over you and grabbed hold of your waist. He tugged gently. You extended your arms in front of you and held them together as he pulled you back into the garage. warm blood trickled into your crack as you sat up. His gloved thumb smeared it upward.
Clear snot was coming out of your nose. You sniffed and he wiped that too, with a knuckle.
Holding his knife, he showed it to you as he stood up. He crossed the garage in just a few strides while you obediently sat back on your knees, adjusting your bra and fixing your hair.
He returned with his hands full.
Your face fell blank when you looked up to see a collar with a leash hanging off it. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He tilted his head, then stooped down to reach around your neck and fasten the it. The arms of his robe created a curtain of darkness as he adjusted the buckle and tested the tightness with two fingers between it and your neck.
He stepped back, holding the leash, and tilted his mask, waiting. There was something else in his other hand. He clicked it, then tossed it aside as the garage door began to rise. He reached down and helped you up. Then, he walked you down the driveway and into the night, with a warm mess trickling down your thighs.
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thank you for reading 🖤
and tysm for your comments and asks 🙏the feedback and encouragement really helps me.
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cherryluvss · 10 months ago
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Guided masterbation via phone call on a night where you can’t be with eachother>>>>>>>
I'm just laying in bed as I do every night, alone just scrolling through Tumblr and seeing all the scenarios others are posting. I'm about to call it a night I feel a vibration on my lap, as I pick up my phone I realise it's from you and my mood instantly changes.
As the call goes on I mention how I miss your touch and presence, it's been far too long. You laugh subtly on the other end of the phone.
"Oh such a needy baby, do you miss me? Or does your body miss the way I touch it?"
I immediately go quiet, how do you know me so well and why do you love to be a tease? How do you know that my body aches for you and only you, that the last couple weeks have been almost unbearable.
"Aha, I know you too well right? Well how about I help you tonight hmm? Would you like that? Would you like mommy to help you touch yourself?"
You know I get shy and reserved when you're forward like that, but deep down I love it.
"I need to hear you say it baby"
"P~Please help me touch myself, please" I choke out, the words almost burning my throat as I say them, the desperation dripping off each word.
I hear your chuckle down the phone along with a sweet sigh, you love to hear me beg don't you. Or are you sighing because you know i'm already rubbing my thighs together, trying to ease the ache between them without permission?
"Facetime me, I wanna see your pretty face while you fuck yourself to my voice"
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changbunnies · 3 months ago
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Danse Macabre (18+)
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♡ Pairing: Rich Serial Killer!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: loosely house on haunted hill inspired, vaguely 1950s au, horror themes, dark romance, smut, dead dove? read the warnings carefully and come to ur own conclusion on what you're willing to read before engaging pls :')
♡ Word Count: 3.9k
♡ Summary: The handsomely wealthy Christopher Bang and his wife are holding an overnight party at the house on Haunted Hill, and the rules are simple– stay the entire night, and $100,000 is their guest's to take; but little do the guests know that their hosts don't intend to let them leave.
♡ General Warnings: this is a serial killer au! do not read if you aren't prepared to read about death + murder + blood + injury! (i personally think i kept the descriptions tame and mild but everyone has different opinions so just use ur discretion and don't interact if you think you may be bothered by anything listed !), chan is referred to as chris, reader is very complicit in his crimes, they're a sick and twisted couple i fear!
♡ Smut Warnings: hybristophilia (i.e chan being a killer turns reader on), smut begins with chan talking about killing reader (intended to be strictly roleplay because he knows it excites them, but ur free to read it as him being serious if ur freaky like that lol), heavy usage of pet names (darling, my love, princess, sweetheart, dear), dom/sub dynamics, rough and a lil mean dom!chan, big dick chan because it's hot!, hair pulling, knife kink (but without a knife actually being used), corruption kink (not in the traditional way), tiny bit of nipple play, oral (m rec), facefucking, choking (on cock :) ), dacryphilia, manhandling, mirror sex, unprotected piv, creampie
♡ Notes: welcome to the first of my late kinktober fics ! this fic is loosely inspired by the opening scenes of the 1959 house on haunted hill movie, which is why the setting is vaguely 1950s!, this is the darkest fic i've tried my hand at writing, but i'm also a very big horror fan so writing this was very fun for me even tho it's not the genre i typically write for!
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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"Darling, the guests are arriving. You must get ready," your husband, Christopher, emphasizes as he steps into the master bedroom you'll be occupying for the evening.
You're sitting at the room's vanity, all of your hair pulled to one side as you finish drying it after your long, relaxing bath. The scent of lavender bath oil and citrus shampoo linger over you– scents brought with you from home because you absolutely refuse to use the luxurious room's complimentary soap; no offense intended to the housekeepers who provided it, of course.
You look sweet as ever in your dainty little pastel blue babydoll gown, your robe delicate and sheer, hanging down off your shoulder and bunching at your elbows. You glance at Chris through the vanity mirror as you begin to comb your hair and free it of any leftover tangles, meeting his gaze with a smile.
"What's the rush, my love? Is it not customary to be late to a party?" Chris chuckles as he steps closer, runs his hand over your shoulder and down your spine as he leans down to kiss the top of your head. "Normally I'd agree with you. But this is your party, princess. You should greet your guests."
He's right, of course– today is your birthday, and he booked the entire mansion, as well as invited all the guests, at your behest. Christopher is the old money sort– a millionaire from a long line of millionaires before him. And because of that, your party comes with a fun gimmick– survive a night in the haunted mansion, and earn an easy hundred thousand dollars.
Assuming each guest successfully lasts until dawn, that's $700,000 for your husband to pay out– but that's no worry! That's still only chump change to a man as wealthy as Chris– and besides all that, no one's going to last until morning anyways; you're certain of that.
Naturally, as having a haunted house party was your idea, the venue was your choice– and the eerie mansion that sits lonesome upon Haunted Hill was the perfect pick. You've always found it strikingly beautiful from the outside, dreamed of one day stepping inside and drinking in all its Victorian charm.
It's certainly lived up to your expectations– and you're sure Chris will buy it for you if you express to him just how much you adore it; he'd buy you the entire world if you asked him to. For now, it's good enough that he rented it out for your sinister party.
You doubt the mansion is actually haunted– you don't put much stock in the stories of ghosts and ghouls that gave this hill its nickname; but it's a fun little tale, and you don't mind playing into it for the sake of a fun time. And it certainly helps make your party's tag line of "survive the night!" more inconspicuous.
"They're all strangers, sweetheart– I don't think they'll mind if I'm a little late," you tell him with a coy little smile as you set your comb back down on the vanity, satisfied with the condition of your freshly washed hair. He returns your smile with a mischievous one of his own, an amused glint in his eye.
"And remind me, darling, why it is that we've rented this house and invited a bunch of strangers to your party," Chris says as he leans down further, his breath fanning your ear. You giggle, almost innocently– though both of you know you're more than just complicit in his endeavors; you actively fuel them, his sadistic princess.
"You know why, my love," you reply, and to anyone else your smile would seem pure, almost angelic– but Christopher knows better. He knows that his kills excite you– perhaps even more than they excite him. He grabs a fist full of your freshly tamed hair, grins at the gasp you let out when he pulls your head back.
"And this is really what you want for your birthday? To see me stick my knife into someone's neck? To have me return to this room covered head to toe in their blood?" he questions as he looms over you now, but the answer is clear as it always is. He sees the way your thighs squeeze together, sees how the desire darkens your eyes– you’re sick; but that’s what he loves most about you.
"I could kill you too, you know. Take my knife right along your skin, just like this," he says as he runs a finger over one side of your neck to the other, gentle but purposeful in demonstration. Your breath hitches as you squirm in your seat, unable to turn your eyes away from him as he tightens the grip on your hair.
"But you wouldn't," you breathe, and Chris smiles, sweet and sinister as his eyes narrow at you, just how you like it. "Are you certain, dear? Do you think me incapable?" 
"I think you love me, as I love you," you answer, eyes starting to water from the sting of his tug on your scalp. "I love that you trust me," he replies as he trails his finger down, over your collarbones and to your chest. His fingers play with the dainty lace of your gown for just a moment before he slides his hand inside, cupping your breast in his large palm.
"I bet you wouldn't even bat a lid if I touched you with my knife here," he continues as he brushes his thumb over your hardening nipple, "you'd actually like it, wouldn't you, my love? Feeling the cold steel here, knowing I could easily cut you if I wanted to?" You whine, try to nod your head though his grip prevents it– all you can do is answer with a meek "yes" instead. 
"Speak up, darling. I'm afraid I couldn't hear you," he says with an expectant look that sends a shiver down your spine. Chris indulges your every desire, gives you everything in the world you want– so in the moments like these, in which when he asks something of you, you listen.
"Yes! I'd like it!" you answer, as loud and clear as you can bring your voice to be. Chris smiles, the sweet one he always gives you when you listen to him well, with his handsome dimples on display– a stark contrast from the darkness in his gaze. He releases his grip on your hair, cups your face and rubs his thumb over your cheek as he kisses you, greedy and deep. 
You always manage to get him hot; all it takes is a few simple words and that sweet gaze of yours to get him worked up– always the picture perfect image of innocence, pretty smiles and soft gazes that hide the depravity lingering beneath. So coy and demure, batting your lashes and acting like you don’t know at all what he does in the dead of night, acting like it doesn’t make your stomach twist– not with fear, but with desire.
Chris always sees through your act– he knows you. But he won’t pretend he doesn’t like it– the fun little game you share, where you gasp in faux surprise when he enters the room drenched in a new victim's blood, where your voice trembles and eyes well with tears when he grabs you hard, kisses you deep as the blood coating him transfers to your skin, sharing it with you.
And your answer now– whether it’s part of the game, or you truly would like feeling his knife cutting your pristine, unsullied skin, it doesn’t matter. He meant it when he said he loves that you trust him; and he loves that you wanted this. That all you wanted for your birthday was this party– to see him at his most unleashed, to indulge in the most sinful fun you could share as a couple. 
You never say what he is out loud– don’t call him a monster, a murderer, or a killer. You always dance around it, play innocent, though it’s obvious enough that you know the truth; and that’s more than enough for Chris. In fact, he prefers it this way; he likes to pretend he’s ruining your innocence, likes to pretend he’s a corrupting influence in your pure, perfect world, likes to pretend he’s ruining you.
Maybe in a way, he is– maybe you were a good girl before you found out his secret, maybe catching him in the act changed you, and maybe he’s dragging you down to hell with him by sharing this part of his life with you. Regardless, he loves what you have together– and he’ll keep playing this dangerous game with you, even if it ends in both your demise.
You melt into his kiss, as you always do– his lips, so plump and soft, always feel so perfect when they’re pressed against yours. You open your mouth for him the moment you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, and he hums pleasantly as he slips his tongue in your mouth. It’s not the most slow or sensual kiss you’ve ever shared– rather, it’s needy, passionate and urgent.
Chris smiles at you again when he pulls away, enjoying the sparkle beholden in your eyes as you stare up at him. “Open your mouth for me, darling,” he says as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You do as instructed, the obedient thing you are for him, and he grins as he sticks his thumb inside your mouth. 
You wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it after he rests it against your tongue. “Oh, my love– you already knew what to do, didn’t you? Always know just what I want, yeah?” You hum as you nod, staring up at him oh so enticing and pretty. “You’ll suck my cock just like that, won’t you?” he continues, biting his lip to suppress a laugh when you eagerly nod and hum once more.
He removes his thumb from your mouth with a pop, hurries with undoing his belt and pulling his cock out of his trousers. His cock is mesmerizing, as always– so long and thick, with pretty veins and a leaking tip; but you aren’t given any time to idly sit and admire it. He wraps your hair around his fist, forces you to take his cock in your mouth all at once.
You choke and sputter as his cock presses against the back of your throat, your nose meeting his pubic bone in a flash, the neatly trimmed hair there tickling your skin. You can’t pull your head back with his grip forcing you down– but you wouldn’t dream of trying anyways; this is what he wants, and he'll have it.
Eyes watering, you do your best to relax your jaw and throat, to suck him just the way he likes, with your tongue massaging his veins. It’s a struggle to breathe through your nose, unprepared for his cock as you were– and it’s not until your eyes are dimming and head is swimming from the lack of oxygen that he pulls you back to let you take a breath.
It’s harsh, lungs positively burning as you take deep, heaving breaths. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling. Was that too much for you?” he asks, but his tone lacks its usual sincerity. “Chris–” you cry his name weakly after taking another breath, a few of the stray tears lingering on your lids finally spilling over as you blink. 
“My dear,” he cuts you off, forcing his cock past your lips once more, using the leverage of his grip on your hair to once again push your head down on him, making you take his length into your mouth until you choke on it.
“You weren’t going to complain, were you? No, I know you wouldn’t do that,” he says, voice wavering ever so slightly, breathier from the pleasure your mouth gives him. “Because I give you everything you want. Everything I do is for you– so you’ll let me use you, yeah?”
He’s right again, of course– you wouldn’t dream of complaining, of depriving him of what he wants from you. And you both know this is far from the limit of what you can take, but as with everything else, he likes when you pretend for him. When you cry and weakly try to protest, half hearted utterances of “too much!” or “I can't!” as tears roll down your cheeks– an act that always leaves him throbbing.
And Chris is good to you, always puts the entire world in the palm of your hands– so just as he says, you’ll thank him by letting him use you however he wants. You can’t nod your head, and any word you try to speak would be muffled and indecipherable– so you allow your jaw to go slack to show him you understand.
“Good, just like that,” he says as you lay your tongue flat, his praise a small kindness before he really lets loose. He easily controls your pace, yanks your hair back until only the tip of his cock remains in your mouth before shoving you back down to the base of it.
You try not to gag and choke, but most attempts go unsuccessful, more tears spilling from your eyes and drool spilling from the corners of your mouth with each full press of his length in your mouth. You can’t even feel the sting on your scalp anymore– all you can focus on is trying to breathe while he uses your mouth.
But all you can breathe is Chris, and he’s unforgiving in the way he moves you on his cock. You jaw quickly begins to ache, and every low groan that he releases is drowned out by the filthy sounds your mouth and throat create as you swallow around his cock.
He doesn’t let up until your vision darkens and blurs again, your nails digging into your own thighs as you try to hold out as long as possible. You gasp when he pulls you off his cock, heart pounding in your chest as the much needed air finally returns to your lungs.
You look up at Chris as he releases his grip on your hair, eyes lidded and hazy. He’s made a real mess of you– from the way his fingers have tousled your hair, to your freshly swollen lips, to the saliva that dripped down from your mouth to your chest. It’s pretty, really– so, so pretty; he almost wants to coo at you.
Instead, he strokes your cheek, offers you a look of faux sympathy– and you’re much too addled to realize he doesn’t mean it. You take the affection regardless of his intent, close your eyes and lean into his touch. You can hear him softly laugh, can easily imagine that smirk he must have on his face right now. 
“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Chris reminds you as he takes his hand away from your face. He grabs your arm, lifts you up from your chair and quickly turns you around, shoving everything resting on the vanity aside before he’s bending you over it. Your yelp of surprise is weak considering the abuse your throat just suffered, your hands lying flat as he presses you down against the hardwood. 
Your face smushes against the mirror, and how cold it is in contrast to how hot your face has become nearly makes you jolt. He shoves your panties to the side easily with his fingers, and you can hear him chuckle when you impatiently begin to squirm as he presses his cock against your dripping hole.
“Princess– stay still,” he says, and you can tell from his tone alone that it’s much more a demand than it is a request. You mutter a soft apology as you still your hips, and he waits a moment– waits to see if you’re going to move again before he acts. 
“Please,” you whine, make your desire to have his cock filling you up known, but ultimately don’t move. With a satisfied grin that you can just barely see on his face from your position against the mirror, he slowly, finally, starts to press his length inside your pussy.
He brings his hands to your hips, holds you as you begin to tremble from the feeling of his cock stretching you out. He doesn’t give you time to adjust– just squeezes your hips in his hands as he starts to fuck you from behind. “Oh, Chris– fuck,” you gasp, though it quickly becomes a moan. 
His cock feels so deep in this position, and it has your eyes rolling back with each motion of his hips into yours. “You’re so fucking wet, fuck–” he groans, his hands gripping you harder as he finds his rhythm. “Squeezing so tight– feels good, huh, princess? You like it when I fuck you like this?” 
“Yes, love it! Love you, love your cock, feels so good–” You cry, high pitched whimpers leaving you now as you try to nod your head, though its position against the mirror doesn’t make it easy. Chris groans again before he moves a hand to your hand, threads his fingers through your hair again to pull you back against him.
You reach backwards to support yourself, one of your hands clinging to his shirt while the other holds him behind the neck. “Look at yourself, darling. Look,” he says against your ear, and you focus your eyes on the mirror. You look at Chris through it first, take in the sight of the sweat dripping down his temple and the clench in his jaw as he fucks you. 
Your eyes travel down, met with the sight of your tits bouncing with each of his thrusts, threatening to spill out of your babydoll gown. Lower still, you watch as he takes his other hand off your hip, slides it past the hem of your gown to find your clit with his fingers. “Want you to watch yourself cum. Don’t stop looking,” he tells you, and you whine– it won’t be easy, but you’ll listen; you always do. 
He lets go of your hair, and is quick to wrap his arm around your body so that you don’t fall too far forward. You’re so wet that his fingers quickly become slick, and it makes his touch lack friction as they slide messily over your clit, but the feeling is still so delicious that you can’t complain. 
It’s so hard to maintain eye contact with your reflection, hard to prevent your eyes from rolling back whenever he hits your spot with his cock while playing with your clit, but you keep doing your best for him. He can feel you clenching harder as you continue to watch yourself unravel, feels your nails starting to dig into where they hold his neck.
“C’mon, love– cum for me, you can do it sweetheart,” Chris urges you, his voice soft and low in your ear. “I will! ‘m gonna– gonna cum for you!” you cry; and though you’d been doing so well, you can’t help but let your eyes roll back and close as you finally let go and gush on his cock. If it were a different day, he might scold you for not keeping your eyes open like he told you to– but it is your birthday today, so he’ll let it pass just this once. 
He pushes you back down onto the vanity as you ride out the last of your orgasm, face once again smushing against the mirror as he grabs your hands and holds them behind your back at the wrists, fucks you rough and deep as he chases his own release. You whimper and tremble, unable to escape the sensitivity you feel, or able to grip anything to ground yourself– all you can do is take it. 
“Can’t! Chris, please– I can't, t-too much, too much!” your voice warbles as you cry, the pleasure you feel overwhelming. “Yes you can,” he says as you writhe helplessly in his grasp, your fingers clenching into desperate fists where he holds them against your back. “You can take it, I know you can.”
You’re going to cum again, you know it– he doesn’t even have to touch your clit again to get you there, because the tip of his cock is kissing your spot so good that you’re seeing stars. You’re panting hard, your every breath fogging the mirror, your nails digging into your palms as Chris’ name leaves you in desperate, broken syllables. 
It’s not until you’re finished cumming around him for a second time that his pace finally begins to falter– he lets go of your wrists, squeezes your hips in his hands and thrusts once, twice more before his own high takes him. You whine as you feel his cum spurt deep inside, hot and sticky, leaving you perfectly full.
Chris takes just a moment to steady his breathing before he’s slipping out of you, hurrying to reach to the ground for the tissue box he previously knocked off the vanity. He grabs a tissue, cleans between your legs as gently as he can, though you still end up flinching just a bit.
He then readjusts your panties so they rest on you properly again, and helps you settle back into the vanity’s chair. He kisses you after tucking his softening length back in his trousers, glances in the mirror to make sure nothing else about his appearance is out of place before he has to return to your party.
“Was it good?” you ask earnestly as you look up at him, and he smiles at you, stroking your head sweetly. “Of course, my darling. You’re perfect, as always,” he tells you, and you beam, turning your head to kiss his hand before he takes it away. He glances over at the grandfather clock sitting in the corner of the room, laughs in disbelief when he notes the time. 
“Gosh, it’s almost midnight– we really must hurry,” he says, and you giggle, truly without a care in the world that you’ve kept your guests waiting. You turn back to vanity, pout as you take in your appearance– you were too far gone from lust to really realize just how debauched Chris made you, but now you truly see just how much you have to fix. 
“Christopher! You’ve ruined me!” you complain before looking around the floor for your comb. “Apologies, princess,” he chuckles, leaning down to pick up your comb for you once you’ve spotted it. He hands it to you, but doesn’t completely release his grip to let you take it until after you kiss him in thanks.
“Now then– I’ve got to go entertain our guests. But hurry, won’t you, darling? I wouldn’t want to start the real fun without you,” Chris says as he rests his hand on the knob of the bedroom door, and you smile as you look at him through the mirror, making quick work of fixing your hair. 
“Of course, my love. I wouldn’t miss my party for the world,” you tell him; and despite what he said, it’s not long until you hear the first shrill scream of the night. Dressed in your prettiest red dress and heels, you peek your head out of the bedroom door– and Chris stands there, knife in hand with blood speckled over his face.
“Sorry darling, didn’t have a choice,” he explains, and you giggle as you fully step out of the room, carefully stepping over the blood that decorates the floor to kiss him before shooing him away to continue. Your birthday party has fully kicked off now– and it’ll certainly be one to remember.
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ange1heavensent · 3 months ago
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━High Class Hooker━
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Pairing: singer!natasha romanoff x model!fem reader
Content Warning: +18 content, minors do not interact, making out, tribbing, porn with plot, fic based on Madonnas and Jenny Shimizu's relationship in the 90's
w/c ≈ 2000
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Natasha Romanoff was a force of nature on stage and a global icon. The world adored her, worshipped her every move, her voice, her presence. Her performances across Europe were breaking records, with people flying across countries to watch her perform. But beneath all the flashing lights and roaring crowds, her mind was always drawn back to you, an undeniable craving pulling at her whenever you were apart.
Tonight, after another concert in Paris, that craving was stronger than ever. The encore had barely ended, the applause still ringing in her ears when she slipped away backstage, grabbing her phone with a hunger she couldn't ignore. She dialled your number, her fingers trembling slightly. When you answered, your voice soft and teasing, it sent a spark of desire straight through her. "Hey, superstar," you greeted, a smile in your voice. "How was the show?"
Natasha leaned against the dressing room counter, her heartbeat quickening just at the sound of you. "It was fine," she murmured, her tone low and sultry, the music she had just performed was still thrumming in her ears. "But it would’ve been better if you were here." A beat of silence lingered before you chuckled, the sound rich and knowing. "Missing me already?"
"I need you," Natasha breathed, her voice husky with intent. There was no point in pretending, she didn’t just miss you, she needed you. Every muscle in her body was aching with the memory of your touch, your skin, the way you felt beneath her. "Get on the first flight. Come to me."
It wasn’t the first time Natasha had summoned you like this, calling you away from your world of flashing cameras and runways to be at her side, even if only for one night. You were both high-profile figures, always on the move, but when she called, you came. Every time.
You could hear the command in her voice, the silent plea, and it stirred something deep inside you. "I’ll be there," you replied, and hung up, your pulse quickening with anticipation.
-
Within hours, you were on a plane, Paris-bound, the city lights glowing in the distance as the private car Natasha had sent waited at the airport to collect you. The car sped through the quiet, rain-slicked streets of Paris until it finally pulled up at the discreet hotel where she was staying. The driver escorted you up to Natasha’s penthouse suite. No security checks and no questions asked. You were whisked through the lobby with the kind of efficiency that came with being connected to a world-class celebrity.
The door to her suite opened just as you arrived. There she stood, leaning against the doorframe, her hair still slightly damp from the post-show shower. She looked at you with a smouldering gaze, wearing nothing but a silk robe that hung loosely around her figure. "You made it," Natasha purred, her eyes dark with desire as they roamed over you, drinking you in. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," you teased, stepping inside, the door clicking shut behind you as she pulled you in close, her lips crashing against yours with an urgency that told you everything. Natasha never wasted time on words when she could show you exactly what she wanted.
You barely had time to breathe as she pressed you against the nearest wall, her hands already slipping beneath the fabric of your coat, fingers tracing the edges of your body with practised precision. "I’ve been thinking about this all night," she whispered, her lips brushing against your neck, "thinking about you." The heat between you grew instantly, the air charged with a tension that neither of you bothered to fight. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, possessive, demanding, and you could feel her need in every touch.
The bed was only steps away, but Natasha didn't have the patience to make it there just yet. She wanted to feel you, to have you right here, right now. Your clothes were gone in a matter of moments, discarded carelessly as she led you to the edge of the bed.
She pushed you down, crawling over you, her weight pressing you into the plush mattress. "You know what I want," she whispered, her voice thick with desire as her fingers began tracing patterns along your thighs. You bit back a moan as she took control, her touch skilled, knowing exactly how to unravel you.
Your hands travelled north, tracing the soft skin of her thighs and hips before slipping over the delicate fabric of her silk robe. With a gentle tug, you loosened the knot at her waist, the robe falling open with ease. Though you had seen Natasha naked before, the sight of her always took your breath away. Your eyes lingered on her chest, her nipples already hardened by the cool air. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to one, the warmth of your mouth a sharp contrast to the cold, drawing a low, satisfied groan from her. 
As your mouth lavished attention on her sensitive skin, you could feel Natasha's body tense and relax beneath your touch. Her fingers tangled in your hair, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. Her back arched slightly, pressing her chest into you, silently begging for more. "You always know exactly what I need," Natasha whispered, her voice breathless.
You responded by pressing a soft kiss to her sternum, your lips tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. The cool air of the room made each warm touch even more intense. You pulled her closer, the silk robe slipping down her shoulders. The soft fabric gilded against her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
You paused for a moment, your gaze meeting hers. Tell me what you want," you whispered against her skin, your breath sending shivers through her. Natasha's lips curved into a soft smile as she leaned back,"I want to feel you," she murmured, her voice dropping lower. "All of you." With that, you laid down again and let her take charge. She repositioned your bodies, guided your thigh upward and positioned herself above you. The shift of her body, the warmth and weight of her above you, left you breathless. Natasha shuddered as she felt her clitoris nudge against yours, your gasp and indication that you were as sensitive as she was.
Your hands found their place on her hips, fingers grazing the delicate skin. She shivered slightly at your touch, and the sensation made your heart pound harder. You guided her slowly, savouring the way her body pressed against yours, the rhythm between you growing more deliberate.
With every slow movement, there were new sounds emitting from both of you. The way her eyes fluttered shut, the soft gasp that escaped her lips, these were moments you laid awake at night thinking about. You mirrored her pace, each motion purposeful, dragging out the delicious pleasure.
“You feel so good,” she whispered, her voice heavy with desire. There was something raw and honest in her tone that made your stomach tighten with want. You responded without words, your hands roaming across her body, tracing the line of her spine before gently pulling her down closer to you. Her soft skin, warm and inviting, pressed against you, and the sensation of being so close, so connected, sent a rush through your entire body.
Natasha’s hips began to move with more intent, her pace quickening as the friction between you intensified. Her head tilted back slightly, exposing the curve of her neck. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against her throat, the soft, salty taste of her skin grounding you in the moment. As her body rocked against yours, the air between you grew charged, each breath shared, each touch deliberate. You could feel her pulse quickening under your fingertips as she let herself get lost in the rhythm you had created together.
When she opened her eyes again, the intensity in her gaze made your heart skip a beat. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice raw with need. “I won’t,” you murmured, your words soft but filled with the same urgency that coursed through both of you.
Natasha’s hands trailed down your sides, her touch light and teasing, yet insistent. The friction between your bodies was almost overwhelming now, every subtle movement drawing you both closer to the edge. You could feel her tensing, the tension coiling tighter in both of you.“God, you’re incredible,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath against her skin.
Her response was a soft moan, her forehead pressing against yours as she let herself get lost in the sensation. You could feel her trembling, her body responding to every movement, every touch, and the knowledge of how close she was only intensified your own pleasure.
The rhythm between you grew more frantic, bodies pressing together with increasing urgency. You were both teetering on the edge, the pleasure building into something too powerful to hold back any longer. Natasha’s breath hitched, her hips moving with even more need, and you felt the moment of tension just before she came undone. Her body trembled above you, her moans breaking into soft gasps as the pleasure overtook her. The sight and sound of her, completely lost in the moment, sent you over the edge with her. Your own release crashed over you, the sensation overwhelming as you held her close, both of you riding out the waves of pleasure together.
As the intensity of the moment faded, you both collapsed into each other, breathing hard, bodies still trembling. The room felt quieter now, the tension replaced by a soft, lingering warmth. Natasha stayed curled up against you, her skin warm and flushed. For a moment, neither of you spoke, content to just lie there in the afterglow, feeling each other’s presence.
Finally, Natasha broke the silence, her voice soft and full of affection. “You always know how to take my breath away.” You chuckled, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart against yours. “You do the same to me.”
-
The first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains when you woke, the air still thick with the scent of her perfume and the aftermath of last night. Natasha was already up, sitting at the edge of the bed, her back to you as she stared out the window at the city below, wrapped in her robe.
She sensed your stirring and turned, her expression soft, but that guarded look already creeping back into her eyes. "I have to leave soon," she said quietly. There was a flicker of regret in her voice, but it was hidden behind the wall she's built between you. "The tour continues."
You sat up, the sheets falling around your waist. You understood the deal between you, the unspoken rules. You were her escape, her indulgence in the moments when the spotlight grew too bright, but nothing more. There was no room for more. "I know," you replied, rising from the bed, already reaching for your clothes. There was no need for affection, no lingering goodbyes. You both knew the routine.
As you dressed, you caught her watching you, her gaze lingering longer than it usually did. But she didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. Natasha was always careful to keep you at arm’s length, no matter how close she pulled you at night. With a final glance, you walked to the door, the cool handle in your palm. "Good luck with the next show." Natasha nodded, her lips curving into a small, almost sad smile. 
"Thanks."
And with that, you left, the heavy door clicking shut behind you as you slipped back into your world, leaving Natasha Romanoff to continue in hers. But you both knew it wouldn’t be long before she called again. And when she did, you'd be there, ready to fall into her arms, if only for one more night.
:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:
Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)
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cuntressgoingdigital · 1 month ago
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BAD HABIT | abby anderson x reader - college au!!
free palestine! click this link for more info
synopsis: you catch abby's eye during class and she becomes determined to make you her's. unfortunately, she can't bring herself to just outright admit her feelings, forcing herself through weeks of yearning and agony.
notes: i have been sitting on this since early october. finally finished it up! gets kinda rambly midway through. can you tell i love writing abby as a gay loser? titled after bad habit by steve lacy :P
cw: 18+ content MDNI, reader referred to as a girl, alcohol ment, dom! reader (if you squint), inexperienced! abby, no smut technically (but def not sfw), abby doesn't know how to communicate
word count: 4.9k
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it was abby’s final year of college. she was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. the last three years had been a horrendous rollercoaster of trials and tribulations. all of her classes were rigorous and extremely involved. it felt like she never slept, ate, or had any time to herself. she had a couple friends, but nothing too serious. in reality, they were probably closer to acquaintances. she made the mistake of following her boyfriend halfway across the country to attend the same college as him. all of her friends were his friends and their breakup, while semi-amicable, set her back as far as friendships go. 
it wasn’t that she wasn’t good at making friends, she just didn’t have the time. making friends in your senior year of college was its own special beast. nobody wants to go out of their way to foster new friendships because of their temporary nature. everyone was applying for grad school, hoping to get as far away from home as possible. living off campus isolates you, ripping you away from the forced community that comes with living in a dormitory.
none of that mattered. abby was perfectly fine by her lonesome.
she had never felt compelled to establish a connection until she stepped foot into her french romantic literature class. everyone called it a gimme class. do the readings, write your reviews and reports, easy A. it was a low level class and she needed the elective credit, so why not? it was an 8AM, but she had dealt with worse. 
she was setting up her ipad and pencil when she felt someone brush past the back of her chair. she looked up and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. she swears she had never seen a girl more beautiful than you. it felt like one of those cheesy rom coms where all the sound in the room dropped out, the entire world slowed, and your smile lit up the room. 
“sorry!” you whispered, making your way a few chairs down and getting as comfortable as possible on those horrid plastic chairs. 
every day for two weeks she just watched you from afar. abby perked up every time you raised your hand to give insight on that week’s readings. you were intimidatingly smart. everything you said, she couldn’t have possibly come up with. she hadn’t missed a single day of class so far. 
but, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to you. a simple “hi, nice to meet you” wouldn’t cut it. she didn’t want to come off as creepy or nonchalant. she needed a plan. 
one day you had left your bag open on your desk and abby caught a glimpse of a novel. it wasn’t one of the books that was required reading for class. was it a leisure read? immediately, she looked up the title and read the synopsis. 
she couldn’t fathom any way to make a book sound less interesting.
alas, at this point she was committed. 
that afternoon, during a small break between classes, she made her way to the library. after wandering on one of the floors for too long, she finally found the novel in question. the plan was to read it, hope that you left your bag open again, and ask about it after class. simple enough. 
she took the elevator down to the first floor and brought the book up to the check out desk. there was no one behind the desk and she wondered if she should come back later.
“sorry!” 
abby knew that voice. 
you sauntered out from the hidden staff area behind the desk. abby felt stupid for letting her crush affect her like this. her face was hot, she had to make a concerted effort to breathe evenly, and suddenly she forgot how to socialize. all she could do was stiffly set the book on the desk. 
“aren’t you in my class? french romantic lit, right?” you took the book in your hands and flipped it to the back cover to scan the barcode on the corner. 
“uh, yeah. i think so?” she had never felt more awkward in her life, sliding her student ID across the desk. 
“well, it’s nice to meet you…” you pick up the plastic card and read over it. “abby.”
there was a quiet beep and abby stood there awkwardly trying to think of something to say. “have you read this book before?” she blurted out. “i just…the reviews seemed to be pretty split. people either love it or hate it, y’know?”
a smile stretched across your face. you were clearly more than delighted to give your thoughts, recommendations for other books, and authors who had a similar writing style. abby thought your enthusiasm was adorable. she had absolutely no clue what you were talking about, but was happy you got to share your ideas with her. 
she cleared her throat. “i guess i’ll give you my thoughts after class one day?” 
you nod excitedly. “i would really love that.” 
abby collected her items and turned on her heel to leave the library. she felt accomplished, only to realize a few moments later,
fuck. 
she didn’t even ask for your name. 
that night abby started the novel. she was determined to finish before she saw you again on wednesday. homework was suddenly tossed onto the backburner. her childish crush took precedent. for the next day and a half she did nothing but read this novel, even going as far as making annotations and talking points for you. 
she woke up bright and early on wednesday. the sun was hanging lowly in the sky. she couldn’t go back to sleep even if she wanted to. she drug her body out of bed and pulled on a black tshirt and grey sweatpants for her early morning workout. she preferred to get her workout out of the way during the early morning hours to avoid the crowd of people in her apartment’s rec center and lower her chances of social interaction. 
her workout was a little more rushed than usual. she wanted to make sure she looked well put together when she approached you after class. she was meticulous with her shower routine, pairing the scent of her body wash with her lotions and deodorant. pine and amber with a hint of lavender. next was her hair that she braided and re-braided at least three times in front of her slightly fogged up bathroom mirror. she peeked at her phone and noticed it was way later than she thought. she ripped a black short sleeve button up and olive green corduroy pants off of their hanger and slipped on some shoes before she ran off to the bus stop.
she made it into the classroom right as the professor was reading off the first slide. the feeling of several pairs of eyes on her was unbearable. 
for the entire seventy five minutes of class she could only stare at you. you were feverishly typing on your laptop while also scribbling something down in your notebook. the clock seemed to tick slower than usual. 
“alright, that covers everything i wanted to address today. i’ll let y’all out a few minutes early. go enjoy the weather outside.” 
abby couldn’t pack up faster. she prayed you weren’t in any kind of rush. 
“hey!” 
abby spun around to see your face. thank god, you had approached her. this eliminated the possibility of her chickening out. 
“oh, hey!” this had thrown off abby’s entire script. “sorry i ran off yesterday. i didn’t catch your name?”
you chuckled at the realization. you hadn’t noticed either. after you properly introduced yourself, abby offered a “nice to officially meet you.”
you waste no time getting to your initial reason for approaching her. “did you start the book?” 
the sound of your voice had butterflies swarming about in her stomach. 
“yeah, i finished it actually.”
you slung your backpack over your shoulders. “which way are you going?” 
the two of you set off in the direction of the coffee shop on campus. abby went over her talking points and luckily you two shared a lot of the same ideas about the themes and writing style of the book. abby made a mental note to read more of your recommendations. 
the coffee shop was coming up on the horizon and abby had already completely derailed her walk to her next class. she had to wrap this up.
“did you maybe wanna study together sometime? you looked really into today’s lecture.” was that a weird thing to say? now it sounded like she was watching your every move.
she was. 
but, that wasn’t your business. 
“oh god, no. i hated this week’s reading. way too dense and the translation was clunky.” your head dropped in embarrassment. “i was actually playing sudoku.” 
god, you were the cutest thing. 
“dinner, then?” she ground her fingernails into the fabric of her backpack straps. “i just think it would be nice to have someone to talk about the homework with.” there was a beat of silence and immediately she felt the need to backtrack “it’s okay if not! i’m sure you’re busy and all.”
“dinner sounds fun! i can do tonight? maybe around seven?”
the two of you exchanged phone numbers and abby said a quick goodbye before rushing off in the opposite direction, praying she wasn’t late to her next class. 
you mentally high fived yourself. you had only made one friend during your time at college and that was your first year dorm roommate. she was great and all, but a senior with only one friend felt sort of pathetic. you were positive the two of you only ended up being friends because of your forced close proximity. you both loved each other to death, but you weren’t so sure you would have found each other otherwise. 
this time you made a friend all on your own. well, maybe you two weren’t quite friends yet, but you’d try your damndest to make your friendship status official. she was nice enough so far. 
and really pretty. 
like, really pretty. 
an hour or so later, abby sent a text with a link to a restaurant menu. you couldn’t help but open the message immediately. 
abby a.: is this good? 
you clicked on the link and your eyes grew wide. this was one of the places you would only eat at for special occasions. the cheapest entree was thirty dollars. there was no way you could afford that. you were a full time student living off of your need based scholarship and the meager wages you received from your work study job. if you looked you would probably see double digits in your checking account. 
you: this looks rlly nice but idk if i’ll be able to afford it 
you: i’m srry!!
before you could lock your phone, the grey bubble appeared again.
abby a.: don’t worry i invited you. i’ll grab the check. 
the idea of being indebted to her made you uneasy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree with her. you didn’t want to seem high maintenance. 
your 8AM was your only class of the day, so in normal fashion you gallivanted around campus and sat in front of the library, people watching, until your shift started. the older woman who worked the same desk shift as you helped you on the daily crossword, forcing the time to pass faster. 
it was a little more than an hour before you and abby were supposed to meet up when your phone vibrated. 
abby a.: i’ll pick you up. send me your address.
you had fully intended to take the twenty minute bus ride over to the restaurant. you knew the bus routes like the back of your hand on account of you not owning a car. it wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be. 
abby pulled up at 7PM on the dot. once you received the “outside” text you grabbed your bag from it’s designated hook near the door. 
“where ya goin’?”
you looked back to see your best friend and roommate, liz. 
“dinner.”
“like a date?”
“nah. just some girl from my class.” your hand reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open. “i’ll see you!”
“have fun. make good choices!” she called out before you could shut the door behind you. 
you peered around the parking lot, trying to find her car. you pulled your phone from your bag and unlocked it, preparing to call abby to play hot and cold until you found her. then, you heard a voice call your name. 
abby was hanging out the sunroof of her car, waving at you. you approached her car and caught the brand sigil on the front grille. it was a BMW. you didn’t know much about cars, but you knew those were expensive. you opened the doors to see a custom leather interior and a high tech touch screen on the center console. it felt like you weren’t even allowed to sit down in this car. 
“hey, sorry it’s kind of messy.” 
there were maybe a dozen crumbs on the floor mats and a couple straw wrappers in the cup holder. 
“if this is messy for you, you’d hate to see my room.” you awkwardly tried to laugh off the tension you felt. “nice car.” 
abby moved the gear shift into drive and started to pull out of the parking lot. “yeah, it’s an early graduation present. i was hoping for something a little more practical. like a subaru or something.” she immediately bit her tongue. she probably sounded so stuck up right now. “i mean, this is perfectly fine! i just…what if i have some furniture to move, y’know?” 
smooth recovery.
“no, no i get it!” you, in fact, did not get it. you would kill to be able to drive yourself across town and not have to haul your groceries along with you on the bus. 
abby’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “you can take aux if you want.” she motioned to the wire hanging out of the charging port. 
this was one of the worst things you could ever hear. now you had to carefully curate a few songs to last the duration of the short drive. shuffling your liked songs would surely end in embarrassment and you couldn’t tell what music abby would be into. you haphazardly queued a couple songs and analyzed every change in abby’s face, trying to decipher whether she liked the songs or not. to your delight she began humming along to one of the songs. 
“didn’t expect you to be into this sort of music.”
abby shrugged. “i’m full of surprises, i guess.” 
you made small talk about your major and your class load for the semester. all of the typical stuff you go over with anyone you meet in a college town. then, you discussed plans for grad school.
“i think i’m gonna take a year or two off and travel for a while. see the world and all that.” you picked up on the way abby’s eyes sparkled when she talked about it. 
“what are you gonna do about money and stuff?” finally, you had an excuse to ask how rich she was.
“my dad’s a neurosurgeon. he rolled right through undergrad into medical school with no time off. he wants me to take some time and find myself. make sure i’m committed to whatever my next step is.” 
you wordlessly nodded. the puzzle pieces fell into place. now you were almost embarrassed about not being well off. what could you possibly have in common with some uppity rich girl?
once the two of you started talking over dinner, it seemed like you actually had a lot in common. you both held a passion for the same movies, had slight overlap with your music taste, and held similar political beliefs. you had judged her a little too fast. you let her go on about her coin collection and in exchange she let you beak into a tangent about your hobbies. before you knew it one of the servers came up to your table. 
“hey folks, i brought the check over for you. take your time.”
you were mortified when you saw it was thirty minutes after close. if your server hadn’t practically run off you would’ve offered an apology. 
you instinctively peeked at the check and saw three digits. your shock must’ve been obvious as abby snatched the receipt holder from you. 
“i told you, i’ve got it.” she put down a heavy metal card and you were once again reminded about the difference in your tax brackets. 
dinner had gone so well it became a weekly endeavor. every wednesday you met up with her so she could show you a couple different spots around town. every time she paid the bill before you could even say anything. whenever you mentioned wanting to read some newly released book that the library hadn’t ordered yet, she would shyly present it to you the next time you two saw each other. weekly dinner dates turned into coffee dates between classes, which turned into study dates at home. she learned your coffee order and work schedule so she could occasionally pop into the library while you were working and deliver you a treat. you became inseparable rather quickly. often walking hand in hand across campus after your seminar. 
liz caught you smiling at your phone and peered over your shoulder. 
“hey, hey! what happened to privacy?” you scolded. 
liz looked you up and down. “what’s going on between you two? always texting, always facetiming, always hanging out.”
“nothing! we’re just friends.” 
it was clear she didn’t believe you. “there’s no fucking way y’all are ‘just friends’.” 
“i can be just friends with a girl!” 
“mhm. sure, sure.” liz left you to study (read: spend your entire night texting back and forth with abby). 
that night when you laid in bed, you finally gave your relationship some thought. were you two “just friends”? you were used to burying your semi-romantic thoughts about your female friends. that had been your MO ever since you discovered you were gay. you tried not to think about abby in that way. you were so excited to make a new friend, you couldn’t bear potentially ruining things with those thoughts. 
you two were just close friends. that’s it.
that’s all it would ever be. 
abby a.: goodnight see you in the morning <3
unbeknownst to you, abby was also spiraling about your relationship. had the little heart been too much? she was trying so hard to be subtle. either you were completely uninterested or she wasn’t being obvious enough. what was she supposed to say? “i think i have a crush on you” was way too forward. what if you didn’t feel the same way? now she would look like an idiot and have to bear the next couple months showing up to the same class as you three times a week. 
even worse, you were the first girl abby had ever properly pursued. her breakup with owen forced her to finally contemplate if she ever actually loved him. well, of course she loved him, but was she ever in love with him? after a month she had decided it had never been the latter. that had been nearly a year ago and in that time she had never actually made an effort to seek a relationship with anyone romantically. she made out with girls at parties, hooked up with one girl months ago, but this was different. she wanted your dinner dates to be real dates. to sleep with you in her arms. post you on her story with a caption that said ‘my girlfriend is so beautiful’. 
how the fuck was she going to make this work?
she laid awake drafting different text messages and formulating different scenarios where it would be appropriate for her to confess to you. 
that weekend abby invited you over for a sleepover. nothing too crazy. just wine, takeout, and a movie. the hour it took for you to respond was possibly the worst hour of her life.
you: omg sounds fun!! i’ll finish up my work at 8?
abby breathed a sigh of relief. she spent the next several hours stress cleaning. her entire house was pristine by the time she was meant to pick you up. 
confessing to you over text almost felt disrespectful. the wine would compensate for her intense fear of rejection. if you didn’t reciprocate, she’d just politely call you an uber and that would be that. the prospect of ignoring her feelings for you until the end of the semester trumped her fear of having to be in the same classroom with a girl who rejected her. 
she just couldn’t take it anymore. 
when she pulled into the driveway of your apartment she saw that you were already waiting outside, a small duffel bag in hand. 
you happily trotted over to her car and hopped in. the seat was perfectly adjusted for you as always. you took over aux without abby prompting you to. 
you always got the passenger princess treatment. 
abby listened to you tell her every intricate detail of your day. the dog you got to pet on campus, how the coffee shop messed up your order and you were too scared to tell them, and the crossword you weren’t able to finish because your usual coworker wasn’t on shift. 
while she was happy to listen to you, all she could think about was the fact that this may be the last time she got to hear your daily musings. 
“you okay, babe?” 
the hairs on the back of her neck always stood up when she heard you call her that. 
“i’m fine. just thinking about this assignment i forgot to finish.”
“i can help you when we get home. as long as it’s not your orgo chem class. you’re on your own with that.”
no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you could feel the tension in the air. something was off, but you couldn’t tell what. abby was speaking less and just seemed out of it in general. every time you asked if she was okay it was always the same 
“i’m okay. don’t worry.”
you brush it off and carry on with the night as if all was normal. you ordered chinese food from your favorite hole in the wall restaurant and plopped down on her couch. it took you thirty minutes to decide on a movie, the two of you debating the pros and cons of every option. it didn’t take long for the food to be delivered and after abby gave you permission to eat on the couch you dug into your food.
“is this your first meal of the day?” abby knew you were terrible at taking care of yourself. not that she was much better.
“shut up.” you uttered through the food in your mouth. 
a few minutes into the movie, abby offers you a blanket which you eagerly take. you rest your legs over her lap and lay back against one of the throw pillows. abby almost felt wrong touching you. she had plans to irrevocably change your relationship before the night was over. 
would you be able to stay friends with her after?
“do you want wine? i figured rosé would be a safe choice.” 
you affirmatively hummed, prompting abby to rush off into her dark kitchen. she just needed a few moments to breathe. 
“can i ask a stupid question?” you called from the living room. 
abby felt the need to dry heave. “maybe.” was all she could offer as a response.
there was a few moments of uncertain silence before you spoke again. “liz is convinced we’re like…dating, or something? is there something going on between us?” 
you were always so forward. it was a trait of yours that abby admired. except this time. 
like the day you first spoke after class, you had completely derailed her scripts and scenarios.
“i…don’t know?” the question had her hands shaking so bad she couldn’t pull the cork out of the wine bottle. 
you hummed once more. “i don’t know either.”
the movie filled the uneasy silence between the two of you. abby was panicking and you surprisingly weren’t. 
“i think i like you.” you were the first to break the silence. “wait, that sounded really childish. i just…you know what i mean.” 
finally, abby could exhale. 
“i’m sorry. did i make things weird?” 
abby rushed back into the living room and saw you cocooned in her blanket, partially shielding your face from her.
“holy fuck. no, no!” she tripped over her words, trying to skip to whatever part of the script she intended to use for this exact moment. finally, she cleared her throat. “that’s kind of why i approached you the first time. i mean, i’m glad we became friends!” once again, she felt the need to backtrack. “when i first saw you in class i thought you were really pretty. i’ve been trying to work up the nerve to say this from the first time we met.” 
you finally met her gaze. abby was shocked to hear you giggle. “that’s sweet.” you reached out for her, beckoning her to come sit next to you. “i wish i had known. you’re always acting so mysterious about your feelings.” you teased. 
you sat up and loosely wrapped your arms around her shoulders. “so…was your plan to corner me here and bombard me with your confession?”
“okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that.” how had you read her intentions so accurately?
“i don’t hear any denial.” abby refused to answer. she had suffered enough tonight. “enlighten me, what was your plan if i said i liked you back?” 
abby shrugged. she really hadn’t expected to get this far. she spent more time planning for a rejection than reciprocity. 
you leaned into her. “well, i think you should kiss me.” 
abby had been dreaming of this moment. quite literally. whenever she had vaguely scandalous dreams it was always about you. she’d wanted this for so long and here she was awkwardly fumbling as she pressed her lips against yours. 
you delicately brushed a few fly away hairs behind her ear and leaned into the kiss. you could feel the hesitance in abby’s body language and knew you’d have to be the captain of the ship for the time being. you closed the space between the two of you, now chest to chest. 
“you don’t have to be nervous.” you whispered in her ear while you moved to straddle her lap. 
abby placed her hands firmly at your hips, finally working up the courage to just touch you. the movie was long forgotten when she lost herself in your kiss. her hand made it halfway up your shirt before she broke the kiss. 
“is that okay?” 
you giggled against her lips. “yeah, have at it.” 
the joking tone eased her mind and emboldened her. her hand found its way fully under the fabric of your shirt, cupping your left breast. her thumb brushed against your nipple, making you sharply inhale. you grinded down against her crotch and abby whimpered against your lips. 
you couldn’t tell how much time had passed. the both of you were feeling sensitive and hot all over. you were desperate to draw those sweet mewls out of her. 
“okay, fuck this movie.” all at once you pulled away from her. abby looked like she could’ve cried at your sudden absence. “do you wanna…like…”
“yeah,” she took a moment to catch her breath. “yeah. the bedroom is this way.” she took your hand and led you past the kitchen to her bedroom that was bathed in moonlight from the wall length windows. she rushed to close the curtains before she pulled her shirt off, revealing her black sports bra. you took her hand and collapsed against her bed, tugging her down with you. 
your fingers reached for the string of her sweatpants, working them down her thighs and tossing them to the side. 
“have you done this before?” you whispered in between kisses to her neck and collarbones. 
“sort of. a while ago.” 
“well i’m happy to give you a refresher course.” you flipped abby onto her back so you could be on top. “just relax.” you hooked your fingers into the waistband of her boxers and pulled her thighs apart. 
the sex lasted for an absurdly long time. for a beginner, abby was surprisingly adept. she was a quick learner. by the end of it, neither of you had the energy to go back to the movie. you slept soundly in her arms, not even bothering to redress. 
the next morning you were harshly pulled from your sleep by an alarm. it was saturday. there was no way it was your phone. 
abby shot straight up in bed and hastily pulled her phone off of the nightstand. 
“fuck. i’m sorry. i forgot i have rugby practice.” she leapt out of bed and started digging through her closet for fresh workout clothes. “for the record, i had plans to make you breakfast and everything. the whole nine yards.”
you stretched out in her bed, missing her warmth. “oh, i’m sure.”
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thesullenfawn · 7 months ago
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streamer!ellie hcs
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(my first time writing so...🫣)
warnings: none, fem!reader
lowercase intended, pictures are from pinterest and they're not mine
credits to @/cafekitsune on tumblr for the divider
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masterlist
♡ plays roblox sometimes and BEEFS with literal seven year olds on voice chat because they called her a noob.
♡ "there is no WAY you're calling me a noob when you have an invisible face you GOOFBALL ."
♡ both of yous live in a one bedroom apartment because yous live in a big city and rent and college is expensive.
♡ so sometimes you can be seen doing homework or studying on your bed or another desk in the background.
♡ "guys y/n is doing homework right now so she might say hi later."
♡ rages in minecraft survival mode and just quits the game after she dies for the millionth time.
♡ "i fr cannot do this like i can't bro this game is stupid as hell anyway....", eventhough she almost punched a hole through her monitor.
♡ you post cute little short, (and/or) faceless vlogs to document your travels or events and sometimes ellie is shown in them!!
♡ the comments are so 😭😭
♡ she absolutely would defend you straight away if you get any sort of hate though.
♡ wears the STUPIDEST t-shirts and you think they're funny but you refuse to let her wear them out.
♡ like that one shirt that says "lesbians eat what?!!" and it's a load of shocked looking cats on it.
♡ "ellie... can you please change your shirt? we're going to dinner 😥"
♡ fans also send them to her through a PO box if she has one and she unboxes them on stream too, so she has a whole collection.
♡ sometimes you join her stream when she's taking a break to eat dinner or something so you show the chat your sims 4 save file or another game you like.
♡ her mic is so bad but she refuses to change it because she thinks it sounds funny.
♡ speaking of sound she also spams that sound board she has to no return (i remember reading this from someone elses post help).
♡ "CHAT I WON LETS GO", *cue the crowd cheering sound effect and a load of blow horns*
♡ "what did i have for dinner? i had a cheeseburger....", *american national anthem plays*
♡ did a whole stream watching edits her fans made her and she was giggling the whole time. (she has a favourites folder on tiktok)
♡ she's totally a repost warrior.
♡ eventhough she does stream kinda often, she makes sure to spend a lot of time with you, even if it's pausing the stream to help you make dinner during a suuuuper long charity stream or something.
♡ if she posts a photo dump on instagram or something you're always in it somehow, and it's always faceless if you don't want your face shown to that many people online.
♡ always sosososo supportive of everything you do and tells the chat if you're comfortable, she's just such a cutie pie.
♡ "guys my pretty girlfriend is graduating soon can you believe that she's just such a genius".
♡ doesn't mention the fact that she is also in college like 😭😭.
♡ sometimes she just doesn't know what to do so she goes on google maps.
♡ "lemme show yous the block i live on.... wait nevermind woah".
♡ you heard that from the other room and your heart DROPPED.
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please don't buy tlou games as the creator is a zionist.
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 23 days ago
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≡;-꒰ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈
╰┈➤ ❝ caleb x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : pwp (with plot (?) this is more fluff-centric with a lil smut towards the end <3), lighthearted, comfort, dancing in the kitchen, teasing, slight bickering, kissing, couch cuddling, sort of a netflix-and-chill moment?, heavy petting, fingering, riding, vaginal sex, creampie, praise, dirty talk, use of pet names "pipsqueak" "baby" "princess". lmk if i missed any tags ! ((unedited))
wc : 3.8k
an : *roxie on the dash* zayne comfort !!! *roxie in the drafts* :D caleb comfort !!!! WHFKJSHDGKJH it's not sunday but i've been writing this through the week between work because i miss him ... and i figured screw it. there are rumors going around. so. if they turn out to be not real. I'LL CONSOLE MYSELF WITH THE FACT THAT HE ISN'T HERE (yet)
taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)
KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS
Sometimes, slow days with him are all you need to feel a little better.
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The fact of the matter was this:
Blankets were comfortable.
Your hands and legs stretched out as you turned, the warmth of the sunlight falling upon your face. You were delighted at the colder sensation on the side of the pillow you hadn't been lying on until now, and a smile spread across your lips—this was nice. Your fingers curled around the duvet, bringing it back up to your neck, and your eyes blinked slowly open. Your position allowed you to glance at the clock on the wall. And though you had fully expected it to be noon, you were pleasantly surprised to find that it was not quite as late as you'd assumed.
You had been known to sleep in a little.
Work was demanding; sleep was as much comfort as you could find in your spare time. Weekends, on the other hand, were heavenly for it. So it wasn't a surprise to you that you'd woken up this time with the entire bed to yourself, all warm and comfy in your blankets…
♪ Sunday morning, rain is falling… ♪
Your eyebrows raised as the tune filled your head, wafting into the bedroom along with a more-than-welcome scent of… something.
You couldn't quite make out what it was.
But you were very aware of who was singing, and the smile on your face grew significantly.
This time you sat up and stretched, before swinging your legs off the bed and finding the soft fluff of your bedroom carpet. Your hands moved to rub the lingering sleep from your eyes as you stood up—soft trudges into your slippers, a hand on your doorknob, and the muffled voice became clearer to you.
♪ Clouds are shroudin' us in moments unforgettable~ ♪
It was so silly.
You had to keep yourself from laughing as you peeked around the corner and into the kitchen, and there he was.
The original track was playing lightly in the background, likely to keep him company, but the whole scene was just so typically Caleb. To throw out a couple of tunes without a care in the world, lazily flipping the piece of toast he was frying in such a smooth motion that you almost thought your eyes were playing tricks on you... He had his back turned to you, focused on the stove, but his head moved casually to the rhythm of the song. And it wasn't that you'd say he was bad; in fact, quite the opposite, more like. Not stellar, definitely, but there was a little roughness to his tone that made it feel endearing to listen to. You were grateful for the fact—his voice was much louder than the actual song, and if you weren't enjoying yourself, you might as well have thrown something right at him.
But this time the giggle that was fighting its way out of you felt harder to suppress, and you stepped into the kitchen. Your back leaned against the entrance. "So, it's not Sunday, first of all," you grinned.
He turned at the sound of your voice and threw you a wink. "Ha ha, maybe not, but it sure feels just like it with ya~"
It was swift, the way he pulled at the pan and with a flick of his wrist, and the plates he'd set out a few feet away from him flew perfectly into his waiting hand. The toasts slid right onto them, contents of the pan rather quickly replaced with a set of freshly-cracked eggs.
Impeccable control as always.
Setting the stove back on low heat, he neatly placed the plates back onto the table, and offered a bow. "Mornin', sleepyhead!"
"Show-off," you rolled your eyes playfully.
Yet as he held out his arms for a hug, you were quick to approach. Arms wrapped snugly around his waist as you fell against his chest, a familiar warmth and a familiar feeling of… home.
"Mm…" you sighed. "Yeah, g'morning."
"Sleep well?"
"Mhm! Warm and comfy!" You pulled back a little bit to look up at him, and sighed contentedly. "I mean, partly thanks to you, no less. I didn't put this on last night before we went to bed… You put your sweater on me before you went out. Thanks, Caleb."
"Oh, so we're gonna talk about last night… now?"
A smirk began to form on his face—the teasing lilt in his voice was back, and you shoved him away with a huff.
"No way! I was just thanking you for—"
He promptly scooped you right back into his arms before you could finish your sentence, twirling you around before planting a quick little kiss over your lips.
"Kidding," he whispered.
You could have melted.
Your feet touched the ground once more as he gently set you down, hand sliding away from your waist to go back to the eggs in the pan—you wouldn't have known if it was intentional; you found that you'd learned many new things about him over the past couple of months you'd started a relationship of a more romantic nature. Yet he'd do these things, be all cute and soft with you, and you'd almost feel as if you were in a daze.
You watched, quiet, listening to the music, and his humming… no different from before. He moved around the kitchen, grabbing a couple of things from the side: the onions, some garlic, some tomatoes… You hadn't had omelettes from him in a while, but you already found yourself anticipating how it would taste. After all, he knew exactly how to cook all your favorite dishes. Even the simplest of them.
And the reality that you were always so well-cared-for with him settled in.
It made you smile a little more.
The comfortable silence between you broke as you walked over, peeking from behind him and resting your head against his shoulder. "Sooo… You didn't think to ask me how I like my eggs in the morning?" you teased.
A laugh; another kiss into your hair.
"Me? Nah, don't need to, baby. Already know just how you like them."
With the omelettes settled perfectly in the next minute, he offered a bite for you to try. "Here. Wanna try?" He had his head tilted to the side, almost as if surveying your reaction, but the twinkle in his eyes told you he was confident you'd like it anyway.
He would be right, of course.
You happily obliged as you wrapped your lips around the spoon, and you knew he had to laugh at the way your eyes lit up.
"See?" he poked your forehead with a playful roll of his eyes. "Don't you doubt me!"
"Oh, no no no, I win this. You totally fell for my ploy to sneak an early bite," you grinned. "I didn't doubt you at all!"
"Whatever you say, pipsqueak."
The food found its home on the two plates he'd previously placed the buttered toast on, and this time, it was you who leaned in to steal a kiss.
Soft and quick, not unlike the kiss he'd given you just earlier—
And then another.
And another.
And then within seconds he was laughing, pulling you against him with his hands resting at your waist, your own hands placed upon his shoulders. Your foreheads rest together as he sways you gently to the music—another more of those older tunes he seemed to be fond of these days, a little smooth, jazzy melody to them that surely did have you moving your feet to it.
Not that you looked away from him.
His hair fell over his face, a little bit longer than you were used to—it had been a while since he'd trimmed it, and you had half a mind to think that maybe he'd been a little bit too preoccupied with you to notice.
But it did little to distract you from the pull that his eyes had always had on you.
Still that beautiful, beautiful hue of sunset purple and tangerine skies… You had to let out a soft sigh—
At least, one that nearly turned to a squeak as he took your hand to spin you around. Having caught you off-guard, you could see him nearly double over in laughter at the few missteps in your movements, but he was quick to catch you in a little dip before you could really trip over yourself.
"Heyyyy!" You whined a little, reaching up to flick at his forehead, but he only winked.
The audacity.
His eyes were narrowed playfully, a glimmer of amusement clear on his face. "Alright sorry," he chuckled, "but don't you wanna tell my what's brought this on, at least?"
The song still continued to play through the little speaker, enough to spur him to lead you through to finish it—but his eyebrow remained raised.
"Nothing!" you laughed honestly as he spun you around a second time, successfully this time, before catching your waist and guiding you to glide across the kitchen tiles. "I was just thinking that it's pretty neat to have such a nice, caring boyfriend around…"
"Just pretty neat?"
"Yeah! Just pretty neat."
The last couple notes filled the air as he pulled you back against him, settling into the position you'd started in moments ago.
His forehead pressed against yours.
"I was hoping I'd get something a little more, I dunno… starts with an I, ends with a you, maybe some four-letter-word in the middle…"
You scoffed, and he nuzzled your nose affectionately.
"What? I'm waiting!"
This time, you grinned. "You silly goose," you clicked your tongue, feigning annoyance. But you closed the distance for another quick kiss, and your expression softened. "I love you."
"There we go. I love you too, princess."
Another little kiss, this time to your forehead, before he pushed you back, and gestured towards the table with his eyebrows raised. "So I promise it'll just be a lazy day with the both of us, so you can think up whatever more of those silly antics that I'm totally gonna be on-board with, but eat. It's nearly just noontime, pipsqueak, and I worked on the food, y'know!"
Once again a laugh fell from your lips, and you promptly sat down on the seat he'd pulled for you. But a bite on your spoon reached out towards him; "Okay, but. The chef gets first honors. Say aah~"
And, breakfast—brunch, rather—aside… Caleb kept his promise well.
He knew you usually only had today, and tomorrow, to relax in ways you wouldn't have been able to for the rest of the week. And for the rest of the day, he had simply been adamant on ensuring that you did.
It most definitely was a lazy Saturday.
And now, you had yourself snuggled comfortably on the couch, legs resting over his lap as he surfed through the list of movies on the screen.
"Geez, there's been nothin' interesting out in the past couple months…" He was mumbling under his breath, a tiny furrow of his brows evident to the mix of concentration and frustration.
Yet his free hand had time to run over your exposed thighs, lazily drawing shapes into your skin—so much so that you had nothing left in you to care about anything else he was saying.
"So let's just re-watch something!" you huffed a little, trying to make it seem as if you were keen on making conversation.
"You really wanna?"
A mistake.
He turned from the screen to your face, conveniently catching the way your eyes had been watching the way he caressed your skin, almost subconsciously gliding higher up your legs without really noticing what he'd been doing.
Until now, that is.
"Baby, the screen is here, not there," he teased with a squeeze to your thigh. The action made you gasp, but if you thought he'd tease you further, you were surprised by the gentle tone his voice took on next. "Don't wanna watch a movie anymore, or somethin"?"
Your eyes flitted back up to him. The answer you wanted to speak didn't come out immediately.
"Hey, this day's about you, alright?" He shifted closer this time, one hand reaching out to poke at your forehead. "We don't have to watch. I mean, if you'd rather do somethin' else…"
This time he wiggled his eyebrows a little, daring to slide his hand up a little higher—
You squeaked, clearly the desired effect, as he let out a laugh immediately after.
"Your call, princess."
Swallow your pride, was a phrase you'd often have to repeat to yourself when you were with him.
He used to be a little more lenient with you, but these days he seemed almost insistent to hear the words out of your mouth instead—for good reason, you figured. You knew that he knew you well enough, but you couldn't blame him for wanting you to speak.
So you shifted your position to settle over him, noting the curious gaze in his eyes as you snuggled against his chest.
"Baby?"
"Don't really wanna do much," you mumbled. "But… I want to be close to you. I mean… We can watch something if you want to, but, mmh…. I'm okay with just this. With you."
"Yeah?"
"…Yeah."
He rubbed soothingly into your back. "Alright, alright, I can work with that... But, hm. 1-10 on the cozy scale?"
You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest to look at him with a little pout. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you looked pretty riled up a second ago, princess, so you tell me if you want me to do anything, right?"
Another glimmer of amusement.
Part of it was frustrating—but, again. Swallow your pride. You were sure that as much as he adored pushing your buttons, he wasn't quite doing this on purpose.
So a soft laugh through your nose.
"Okay, not the level of rough from last night, if anything," you joked. "But… Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'd… like it if you touch me."
Nothing quite changed in the way his hands were moving over your back in the same consistent, soothing motions, but he smiled—satisfied with your honesty, and more than willing to oblige.
"God, I love it when you're honest," he chuckled. He deftly slipped his hands beneath your sweater—his sweater—and sighed.
And perhaps it was this moment of intimacy, but you felt yourself leaning up, hands cupping his face, pressing your lips against his.
It wasn't rushed, nor heated.
He smiled into the kiss, and your lips moved almost lazily against each other. Eyes closed, enjoying the casual comfort of the moment, your thumb gently rubbing over his cheek as his hands explored every dip and curve of your skin.
Blankets were comfortable, and dancing in the kitchen was fun, but, this—this was really all that you needed.
"Mmmh…"
You sighed as you pulled back for air, but quite frankly, neither of you very much wanted to part.
It only took a few moments before he was kissing you, and you were kissing him, and your fingers had nestled into his hair as his trailed down to slip beneath the band of your underwear.
"So wet, baby," he murmured against your lips, a trace of a laugh in the way he spoke.
You smiled, and tilted your head, allowing the kiss to grow from soft, and lazy, to a little bit deeper.
"Mhm. S'for you," you whispered.
And a low groan tore from your throat as his fingers sunk into your heat, the feeling oh-so-familiar, and oh-so-welcome. And with how many times you'd done this, the stretch felt nothing more than you were used to—but it was delicious.
Your legs spread in an immediate response to the intrusion, allowing him to move a little easier. Separating from the kiss for a mere moment, your head turned back, just in time to see him pull out and discard your panties completely, just in time to watch the way he thrust back slowly into your walls, the squelch of your wetness so deafening in your ears.
"Holy shit," you whispered—and it was almost ridiculous how you sounded, you'd think, so much so that you had to let out a breathless laugh as you turned back to him.
He raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Yeah? Feels good, huh?"
"Real fucking good."
It was his turn to laugh a little. "Yep. I totally love when you're honest."
Before you could lean back in to kiss him, however, he helped you sit up with him, moving both his hands back over your waist to grab a handful of the flesh of your ass.
"Easier this way," he murmured.
And he kept a hand behind you while the other moved to your front, resuming steady thrusts that had you slowly grinding into his palm.
"Nnnh.. If you keep teasing me like that, m'not going to wait any longer for more than just your fingers," you rolled your eyes.
But he was right; it was easier like this. He had his other hand running up and over your entire body, slipping back beneath the sweater before dipping down over your ass—it was easier for you, too, finding the momentum to guide the movements of his fingers in your cunt, urging him to rub against your sweet spot.
Even as your lips found each other within moments yet again, busy with all these sensations and the wet noises that you felt were echoing in the living room, your hips continued to move—a little up-and-down motions, riding his fingers, very evidently craving more.
"Thaaaat's it," he groaned against your lips, finding time to speak praises of approval in-between kisses and gasps for air. "Get off on my fingers, baby. Y'feel good? Hm?"
You no longer had the mind to reply to him.
Kisses turned to whispers of dirty words into your hair, your face buried into the crook of your shoulder. Muffled moans, movements more frantic…
And then you said it.
"Need you," you gasped, feeling him hit that spongy spot once more. "Need—hngh—need you, Caleb, need more—"
Another kiss over your head. "Shh, shhh. I'll give it to you, baby. Just a little more…"
"Mnh, but! I don't— don't want to—haah—like this—"
"Relaaxx, princess. Breathe, alright?"
He was so deep. So good. So—
"Not this, I wanna cum on your cock…"
You felt him smirk.
It was almost as if he'd been waiting, again, to hear it—to push you enough to have you snap, have you disregard that little tiny bit of pride you still have left.
"Yeah?" he grinned, and he pulled his fingers out of you with a little schlick.
You nearly whined at the sudden emptiness, so much so that even without his fingers to ride, you couldn't help but grind over his bulge.
"Baby," he laughed. "Are you that excited?"
Your movements made it difficult for him to deal with the tie of his sweatpants.
"Just… just hurryyyy!"
"Geez. I've spoiled you, huh, princess? Got you craving my dick this much?"
With a huff from you, he lifted you up just enough to push down his pants and take out his cock. A couple of pumps over his length and you sat yourself down, taking him in with a long, drawn-out moan.
"Oh, fuck, baby."
He was no different.
"Who's—haah—who's the cocky one now, huh?" You managed to smirk at him, despite the way you were panting, despite the way you could feel him, warm and pulsing, reaching deep into your pussy.
You were so full.
"Shit, baby, just move—" He choked on a moan, almost instinctively thrusting up into you.
You fell forward into his chest with a startled cry, but it was enough.
The feeling was not one you were keen on letting fade, and your hips began to move. Slowly, at first, almost as if getting a feel for it again, before moving faster. And he was groaning, and hissing, cursing into your ear, trying to keep his voice down, restlessly roaming his hands over your body. It didn't take long before he was pressing you tightly against him, your bodies moving in a synchronized push-and-pull.
Your hips moved up and down, hands gripping his arms to steady yourself. "Caleb—!" Your moans mixed with broken words, broken syllables of his name, higher-pitched than usual as you worked yourself over his cock.
You could see another one of those shit-eating grins making its way to his face, all flushed and heedy with lust, but you couldn't be bothered to care about it anymore.
"You should see yourself, princess," he panted, moving his hands to grip your cheeks tightly and earning a delicious gasp from your lips. "Shit—fuck—can't ever get enough of you, baby, you're so fucking perfect f'me."
"Mhm? Feels good? Feels… Feels…! Nngh—Caleb! F-feels so good—"
Your movements began to turn frantic.
Grunts and groans mixed in with the slap of skin against skin as you bounced yourself over him, his own thrusts meeting yours with a fervor. There was the heady scent of sex in the air, and you could barely even remember what you'd planned to do here in the first place.
"M-mmhn—! G-gonna cum!" you whined, breathless.
You were panting, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders, trying with every ounce of your strength to keep yourself consistent despite the building tingling in your stomach, despite the tensing in your limbs.
"Cum for me, baby."
He leaned in to nip at your earlobe before trailing his lips over to yours, swallowing that loud cry of his name into a deep, filling kiss.
It was messy.
Your body slumped against his as the pleasure crashed over you in waves, body trembling almost helplessly in his arms. Your chest heaved; you could feel the warmth spreading inside you as he spilled his cum inside within seconds of your orgasm, and you whimpered—you felt so sensitive.
"Shit… Fuck… I know, baby, I know, I know, you did so well…" He cradled you in his arms, voice low and hoarse. In that same comforting manner, he had himself rubbing your back soothingly, giving you a little bit of a squeeze. "Shh, it's okay. Breathe, princess, breathe."
And it would be like this.
You stayed still in that same position for a moment, Caleb whispering soft little words of reassurance, sweet words of praise as he peppered kisses all over your face.
"Satisfied, on a scale of 1-10?" he chuckled a little, stealing a kiss from your lips as you looked back up at him.
Your eyes softened.
"You're kidding, right?" you murmured. "A 10. With you? Always a 10."
"I mean, yeah, I'll bet. You were practically crying about how good my—"
"Caleb!"
You'd reached to grab a nearby pillow and promptly shove it at his face, but it did little to stop the laughter from bubbling from his throat.
"Okay, okay! But! C'mon. Nice start to your weekend, right?"
And this time, you grinned.
"…You know what? Yeah, you're right. Always feels like a Sunday with you."
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eclipseslayer · 4 months ago
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MY GIRLFRIEND IS A... GOONER?!
• SATORU GOJO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT
• SUMMARY: You're home alone for what seems like the millionth time since Gojo leaves so much, so you take advantage of his absence and use that time to catch up on masturbating, to solve that need for an orgasm, but, whenever Gojo comes home and catches you watching porn, he intends to use it against you to give you the few best orgasms you've had in awhile.
• CW: Gooner!reader, masturbation, use of toys (vibrator), being caught masturbating, penetrative sex, creampie, Gojo is a teasing little shit, this fic is so unserious.
• WC: 3.3k
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Bzzzzzzzzt.
Ah, yes, that familiar sound that you love so much—the sound of your vibrator—buzzes to life for the third time today.
You smile at the toy, knowing you're probably gonna have the best goddamn orgasm you've had all day, as the other two were subpar, but, now that you just got off of FaceTime with your boyfriend, you knew that his image and the sound of his voice, fresh in your mind would help you get off with ease.
Although, there was one slight problem with that.
You're a very visual person, and, despite Satoru's image being fresh into your mind, you knew that half-way through your orgasm, his image in your mind would disappear.
It's a shame, really, that you're such a visual person.
So, with your legs spread and your vibrator in your dominant hand, you grumble as you begin to pat around on your bed, searching for your phone, your fingers searching for that familiar plastic case among the fluffy bedspread until—
Aha.
Found it.
You grip your phone tightly and hold it in front of your face. You quickly unlock the screen, frantically trying to find your favorite app while the vibrator hums lowly in your other hand. You find Twitter quickly, and you open it, and with one thumb, you type in your favorite hashtag,
#gooner
and begin scrolling, until you see those horrendous, cheesy, pornographic posts captioned with a long list of hashtags and that one phrase, "Keep gooning! Bet you won't last an hour with these videos!" plastered over a collection of hentai videos.
You huff at the stupid caption, and reluctantly, you click on one of the videos and are immediately met with an anime girl with big boobs and her boyfriend with a big penis.
It's stupid, it's overly-erotic, and yet, somehow, these videos always get you off. You're not sure why the obscenity of hentai is more appealing to you than real people in porn, but, it doesn't matter in the end, because one way or another, you'll get your orgasm.
You resume watching the video for a bit before slowly bringing the buzzing vibrator down to your clit.
"A-Ahhh..." You instantly moan once the vibrator sets a spark on your clit—quite literally buzzing you to life as your toes slowly curl.
It's on a low setting, so you're not in too deep too quickly, simply because you want to take your time building your orgasm tonight because you're home alone, with no boyfriend in sight, and you're ovulating, so you want to make sure you have the best orgasm you've had in a while since the other two were quite rushed today (which you're still a bit peeved about).
You continue to watch the animated porn on your phone screen, enthused with how sloppy and nasty it looks on your screen, and how pretty the girl's moans sound. Yes, it's a bit over-the-top, but you appreciate it nonetheless as your hand slowly starts to move the vibrator around your clit in circles, making sure to tease yourself just the way you like, leaving yourself wanting more.
You let out soft moans, and your eyelashes flutter for a brief moment as you appreciate the feeling of how good the vibrator feels on your pussy, making you feel pretty worked up.
Considering the fact, you turn up the speed on your vibrator which makes your breath hitch.
You tear your eyes away from the video for a moment and stare up at the ceiling, just taking in the wet, squelching noises and the girl's moans from the video as your eyes roll into the back of your head.
You're starting to feel hot.
You feel the center of your pussy grow hotter and your inner thighs begin to slowly wet themselves with sweat as you keep rubbing your clit with the vibrator.
You swallow thickly as the heat climbs up your thighs and into your stomach, making sweat start to pebble on your skin there, too.
It's all so hot, and it happened so fast, as you had not expected the heat to reach your stomach quite yet.
"Aaah... shit," you curse underneath your breath as the heat fans itself into hot flames in your stomach, and more sweat droplets begin to form onto your skin and now onto your lower back.
You take this as another sign and turn the toy up again, and this time you let out a louder moan, shutting your eyes as the toy sends more sparks of electricity through your body.
It's so hot, you think to yourself, again, as more sweat builds up in your body.
You turn the speed up even higher as a result, making you moan at how good it feels to have your clit stimulated like this.
"O-Ooooh!"
"Hentai?"
A sudden, deep voice fills the room, startling you and making you gasp and open your eyes abruptly. In shock, your vibrator slips from your hand, landing somewhere on the bed as you sit up suddenly. Frantically, you look around for your phone, only to realize that your boyfriend, Satoru, has taken it.
" 'I-I—"
His sudden presence catches you off guard, and you're stunned by how he managed to swipe your phone right from your hands without you even noticing. You don't even have time to wonder how he got here or when he snuck into the room as you sit there, stuttering, at a complete loss for words.
"Gooning?" He sounds even more appalled at that than the hentai, and his eyes widen behind his rectangular-shaped sunglasses; his head falls forward, making them slide down his nose.
You go silent at the observations Satoru perceives quite loudly as he scrolls through the hentai videos you were watching.
Satoru turns to you once he sees that you're silent and he gives you a side eye before shutting off your phone. He tosses it onto the nightstand.
"Baby..." He chuckles, slowly approaching you. "You're a gooner?" He chuckles again, which slowly grows into a laugh.
He smiles and sits down onto the bed next to you and he kisses your neck gently.
"Yes, I'm a goddamn gooner, Satoru," you grumble, rolling your eyes. You can't believe you just admitted to that. Yes, your Twitter feed shows nothing but videos like that, but, you honestly can't really help it. You're so hypersexual that you can't help but want to masturbate all day and just sit and watch porn while you flick your bean.
"Hmm," another cruel chuckle falls from his mouth as he kisses down your neck. "Is this all you do while I'm away? You just sit around, masturbating and watching hentai?" His voice is cruel and mocking. It makes your face heat up even more now that he's caught you in your act.
"I..." You sigh, not really wanting to admit to your faults. "...yes." You're shy and quiet when you finally concede.
"Hehe," he snickers, and slowly, he slips off his jacket and tosses it to the ground and then takes his sunglasses and sets them on the nightstand. "Do I not take care of you enough, baby?" He asks, though instead of his usual teasing tone, he sounds a bit more concerned.
Oh boy.
You sigh, shaking your head. "It's not that, 'Toru...it's just... I'm a really horny person. You take care of me so well, but, I just get so..." Satoru hums and he begins to suck on the skin of your collarbone, making you gasp, "...so horny while you're away."
He raises an eyebrow at the exaggeration of your state or horny-ness, but honestly, it's believable. His hands begin to roam over your thighs while he thinks for a moment.
"Is there any way I can help, or...? Do you just wanna do your own thing?" Soft, blue eyes meet yours while he thinks. You can tell he's eager to help you in anyway possible, and it warms your heart.
You reach out and caress his cheek, gently. "Baby, I love you, but I'm afraid there's just nothing you can do... otherwise you'd have to be home and ready twenty-four-seven."
Satoru's eyebrows raise in surprise as he begins to grasp that you might not be exaggerating at all. Despite his concerned expression, he evidently doesn't seem too bothered. In fact, a small smirk creeps across his face as he starts to find the situation a turn on, even if it involves something as pornographic as hentai.
"Yeah? Twenty-four-seven? You'd need me that much, huh?" Satoru's smirk turns into a grin, and slowly, he climbs on top of you, making you lean down as his body presses against yours.
His lips move down to your neck once again, where he starts pressing gentle, soft kisses along your skin, making you arch up into him, asking for more.
"Yeah..." You admit rather shyly as you feel your ears start to burn.
Meanwhile you're gasping and arching into him, his soft, plush lips move down your body until he reaches your breasts. His lips find one nipple and captures it between his lips and begins to suck fervently, earning him yet another gasp from you.
"Nnghh—" You moan, and you reach for Satoru's hair, but the second you reach for it, he pulls his mouth away with a wet pop.
"Yeah?" He grins cockily, looking up at you. You roll your eyes at his cocky smirk and you huff, watching him as he grabs the vibrator and your phone. He sits up on his elbows and begins scrolling through your phone. "Jesus, guess my girlfriend really is a gooner."
You roll your eyes again. " 'Toru stop calling me that."
He grins, mischievously. "Mmm, we'll see." And, despite your obvious annoyance, he persists and keeps scrolling through your phone. "Time to test how much of a gooner you actually are though, right?"
Another eye roll. "I—"
"Ah, here we go," Satoru gives you no time to resist as he shoves your phone back into your face with another hentai video on your screen. It's a similar video to the previous one with a girl who has big boobs, although, it clearly has an older man in the video. One of those perverted teachers with his student, in a college setting.
"Professor and student, isn't that a fun combo?" Satoru grins at you and you sigh. "Keep watching the video baby. Wanna see you cum to some hentai, since it seems like you love it so much."
With that, he clicks on the vibrator and turns it onto the lowest setting and presses it against your clit.
You flinch in surprise at the unexpected sensation, your legs instinctively jerking. A whine slips from your lips as you arch up into the vibrator. Tearing your gaze away from the video, you look up at your boyfriend, but he shakes his head.
"No, no baby," he tuts. "Pay attention to the video."
Annoyed at his persistence, you huff and reluctantly you go back to watching the video, paying attention to the way the girl moves on the screen.
You're enthused with how raunchy the video is—watching how wet her pussy gets whenever her professor touches her or when he gropes her breasts—it makes you wet, seeing how wet she is, begging for more of her professor's touch. Though, you have to admit that you think the vibrator is doing most of the work, even if the video is making you stimulated.
Speaking of which, the vibrator hums lowly still on your pussy, making your head fuzzy as Satoru moves in slow circles around your clit, knowing just how you like it.
You close your eyes at the feeling, and a small smile appears at the corners of your mouth while the lazy movements of the vibrator sends small jolts of electricity through your body.
"Feeling good, baby?" Satoru's expression lifts into that of a cocky one.
You're about to respond when the vibrator suddenly hums loudly, its intensity increasing. Electric shocks shoot through your body, making you cry out as you clutch at the covers, desperately searching for some sort of anchor in the sudden onslaught.
" 'T-Toru—!" You begin to chide him for suddenly changing it up, but he shakes his head.
"I know, I know..." His tone is full of fake sympathy. "But you can take it, right, baby?"
The vibrator leaves you breathless for a few moments while you endure the surge of what feels like a thousand sudden storms raging in your body, making your legs shake in delight, but eventually you're able to reply once you gain a somewhat steady head.
"Y-Yeah... can take it..." You murmur as you feel the winds of the storm climbing up your body and into your head, making you feel numb as the vibrator continues to run cruelly on your clit.
"Mmm, good, good girl," he praises and leans down, kissing over your neck.
Satoru looks up at you and sees that your eyes are rolling back as the storm wages heavily in your body, so he reaches for the phone in your hand and grabs it, and presses the speaker up to your ear.
"Listen to it. Want you to get off to the sound of this cheesy moaning and that plapping sound, baby."
Satoru's command is a bit mean, but, it's what you do actually get off to, ironically enough. The sounds of the professor and the girl moaning are enough to make your head spin once again, sending flashes of heat throughout your body.
That familiar storm intensifies with every passing moment, making your pussy ache with unmet need. Sweat beads along your skin, the storm raging fiercely within you, desperate for release.
Then, without warning, Satoru bumps up the speed of the vibrator again, quickly unleashing that storm. It makes you cry and whine, your body arches up and down, your legs jolt and your hips shake as you finally cum.
Creamy, white substance leaks out of your pussy and onto the bedsheets while Satoru rips the vibrator away from you, giving you a break.
You're panting, you're sweating, and you're so hot from expelling that raging storm within you—
Oh shit.
Satoru doesn't give you long before the vibrator is pressed against your pussy again, giving you no time to react, he moves the high-speed vibrator against your pussy in quick circles.
"Keep listening to the video, baby," he murmurs into your other ear and then begins to kiss your neck hotly. "Video's almost done, just need you to cum for me one more time."
A high-pitched ringing begins to form in your ears while your head falls numb. A feeling of bonlessness overcomes you while you take the overstimulating vibrator to your clit, making that hot storm churn in your body again.
You're twitching, and you begin to pant once more.
"Haaa... haaa..."
More twitching; electricity shoots through your body, and that dull ache reappears between your legs, making that familiar feeling in your abdomen more prominent.
Plap, plap, plap—the sounds from the video echoes in your ear, and the girl's moaning only gets louder and louder until you hear it, suddenly—she lets out a loud moan, and, instantly, it causes you to tip over the edge once more, releasing that storm inside of you as you cum again, only more violently this time as your legs shake as if they were being tased with electricity.
" 'Toruuuuu!" You moan his name loudly as you finish, a sharp cry following his name as your body arches up impossibly high, and then plops down back onto the bed once that feeling washes over you.
Finally, after what feels like forever, that video ends, and your boyfriend removes your phone from your ear and puts it onto the nightstand. Satisfied, he hums and takes the vibrator out from between your legs and turns it off and sets it aside on the bed.
"Did so good for me, baby..." Satoru hums as he kisses your neck, trying to calm you down as you lay there, a panting mess.
"Yeah... came for me twice. You should be proud of y'self," he murmurs into your neck. He kisses your skin, slowly and sweetly which slowly begins to calm you down.
"Mmm..." Is all you can mumble back, feeling as if you're sitting on cloud nine.
He grins against your skin once he hears your hum of content, knowing that he was the one to reduce you to this state.
"Yeah... gonna treat you so well and make you cum one more time for me, alright?" He murmurs and his hands begin to unbutton his shirt. He slides off the white fabric and tosses it to the side before you hear the clinking of his belt buckle, and a slip of smooth leather, and then finally you hear him slide his pants off.
"Haaa... Satoru..." You almost protest, but the sight of him reaching down to take his cock out of the confines of his underwear, thus revealing himself with a leaky tip, immediately shuts you up. You swallow thickly and you nod your head eagerly. "Mmkay."
"Good... girl..." He murmurs between kisses as his lips still caress your skin. He reaches down and grips his cock between his hands, and then he settles himself between your legs. He lines himself up, and then slowly, he pushes himself in, immediately earning him a moan.
"Nnngh—!" Your hands remove themselves from the bedsheets and then cling to his back, feeling the taught muscles under your skin, you grip it, anchoring yourself to him in hopes of clinging to what little sense you have left.
He starts with a slow pace, and immediately you're obsessed with the way things sound. Your ears perk up at the enticing sound of your pussy squishing around him, the sound of his breaths, heavy in your ear, and how you sound, moaning as you take him.
All of it makes both you and Satoru more excited as your walls flutter around the thickness of his cock, which sends him into more of a desperate state of need. He follows it, quickly, and begins thrusting at a faster pace.
"S-Shit..." He mutters and quickly leans down so he's sucking a large mark onto your breast, making you whine.
Plap, plap, plap.
The sound intensifies; Satoru increases his pace again.
Plap, plap, plap.
Again.
Plap, plap, plap.
The pace is faster, harsher, as now both of you are chasing your release. Nothing but the sound of panting and skin slapping fills the air, while the both of you feel that ache of that impending orgasm.
The sounds of it all surely doesn't help your case as Satoru fills you with his thick cock. It drills inside of you, full of need, quickening with each pace, leaving you a wet mess.
Your head falls to the side against the pillows and you stare up at the ceiling while you pant, and your hands dig into his back, trying to cling onto him but it's no use.
"Hnnnghh... aaaahhh..." You moan, and Satoru chuckles lightly.
"Haaa... baby, you feel s'good," he murmurs drunkenly, when suddenly the rhythm of his pace messes up. "Aaah... shit, baby gonna cum—"
Finally, with one, final snap of his hips, he cums into your soaked pussy, filling you up completely, and in turn making you finish as you let out a loud moan.
"Fuck," you both curse under your breath when you both fall limp, and become boneless.
Satoru rolls off of you and lays on his back next to you.
There's a long moment of nothing but heavy breathing being exchanged between the both of you, until finally, Satoru swallows thickly and snickers.
"Did that finally satisfy my gooner girlfriend?"
Unable to move your head, you give him a side-eye, and you see that mischievous smirk slapped on his face.
"I will slap that smirk right off of your face, Satoru Gojo."
He laughs. "Fine with me."
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xxgrimml0vrxx · 3 months ago
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♡ Satan has bad days. Who doesn’t? But when Satan has a bad day he tends to destroy half the house or lock himself in his room for a few years at a time.
For a demon that’s not particularly abnormal, but after a human (you) moved into the house Satan tries to do it less.
Right from the start there was something unique about you and he was intrigued. Now that you’ve grown closer that hasn’t changed, but now you’ve gotten pretty good at noticing when Satan is having a bad day.
And you know a few little tricks that can snap him right out of it, head-butting is one. Walk up to him and bonk your forehead against his, not too hard now this is supposed to be sweet. Almost immediately Satan’s whole face lights up and he starts rubbing his cheek against yours. He’s rather cat like.
Another thing you can try is wearing cat ears into his bedroom when you take him some snacks, again his face lights up the second he lays eyes on you and he pulls you to sit on his lap.
The last one is possible the simplest. Ask him to read to you anything you’d like or let him pick the book. Satan would drop anything in a heartbeat to have you sit with him and read together. ♡
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justcallmesakira · 8 months ago
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"Dazai, lets go on a ride with your car yeah?" you ask entering dazais room, a soft and beaming smile full of sprinkles and tenderness.
His eyes dart towards you.
"No how about you ride on something else?~"
Dazai's voice rings in your ears as he smugly looks at you before manspreading his legs.
With pure disgust, the most horrifying shock know to mankind, pure trauma presented in your eyes and with a smile that got its innocence flown away you pick up your phone, a menacing glare in your now devoid eyes.
"Hey chuuya, ever wondered where your expensive french exported 9 set wine go? :D"
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katnylla · 23 days ago
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₊˚﹟ bf!toji takes
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pairing; bf!toji x gn!reader
syn; heres my very nsfw take on bf!toji
includes; dom + top toji (sorry friends! can’t see him as anything else) reader is nawt a virgin, fingering, size kink, dacryphilia mentioned, manhandling (kinda), chubby friendly
nsfw under the cut; mdni!!
bf!toji who asks “think you can take it?” during your first time with him because dude’s dick is an actual weapon. he has you on your back just to see your face contort as slides into your hole, and your mouth hanging open with pleasure and shock that you could even fit that in. he loves how you swallow him right up, pulling him right back in when he pulls out.
bf!toji who knows you can’t think when he’s fucking you, but still has the audacity to ask you stupid questions. “like that?” he asks, and when you don’t— or can’t answer, he grabs your face and demands you to, and you have to try your hardest to form coherent words. but he’s lenient enough to take anything from you.
bf!toji who plunges his thick fingers deep into you, and has no mercy when you whine for him to slow down. when you shift your hips or try to close your legs, he holds them open with a grip you can’t overpower.
bf!toji who uses puts his shirt on you so he can use it to pull you backwards. “where you goin’?” is what he says when he’s pounding you from behind and you push yourself forward to get a breather. you cry out when he speeds up, his thick cock stuffing you deliciously over and over.
bf!toji who towers over you, and makes occasional comments about it. his hands are huge, and when they’re pawing at you, your stomach burns with want and desire. if you’re moving too much, he can easily pin your wrists together in one place, keeping you right where you need to be. his arms can keep your legs up or they can be there for you to grab for support.
bf!toji who likes seeing your struggle to suck him off, and likes seeing your tears well up when you attempt to take him whole. your hand can manage wrap around his base a little, and with effort, you could throat him a little over halfway. he won’t force you, but his large hand would sit atop your head, either patting it or lightly pushing it incase you need assistance, y’know?
bf!toji who can carry you with ease, so whenever you two fuck, he’ll carry you or hold you against the wall. he’ll throw you over his shoulder when you act up, and toss you onto the bed when you get to your, or his, bedroom. if you’re too slow when he asks you to move, he’ll simply do it for you, whether it’s flipping over, putting your ass up, or bending over.
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a/n; first post u guys. sorry about the basic ass post, i just kinda been thinking about this for a while so why not write it? and i won’t lie, i’m not suuuper big on jjk so you won’t be getting that a lot.
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changbunnies · 4 months ago
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Evermore (18+)
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♡ Pairing: Beast!Changbin x fem!Reader
♡ Genre: beauty and the beast inspired fantasy au, monster/human relationship, some angst, fluff, eventual smut, mutual pining, slow burnish?
♡ Word Count: 15.1k
♡ Summary: Desperate to flee an arranged marriage, you take your chances fleeing into the woods. The home of countless myths and legends, many in your village believe the forest to be enchanted, with all manner of dangerous creatures lurking within. You never took stock in such tales, much less in that of the most feared of them all– “The Beast.” But when you are saved from a pack of wolves by The Beast himself, you quickly realize that there is more truth to the fables you grew up on than you ever believed. 
♡ Warnings: mention of an arranged marriage for reader, referenced misogyny, risk of death / near death experience, mild blood and injury, bin's appearance as the beast is based on minotaurs because i think it's sexy!, his height is never stated but i pictured him as ~10 feet tall while writing so :)
♡ Smut Warnings: monster fucking but make it Soft and Sweet,  size difference, size kink, bin is touch-starved and feral for reader (but feral in a way that is somehow still soft?), handjob, oral (m + f rec), cum eating
♡ Notes: happy very late birthday to my sweet binnie <3 i wanted to get this out on his birthday but my life has been a mess tbh lmao but i'm back now and here's to loving changbin with my whole heart <3
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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There were many things in your life you were willing to sacrifice for the sake of family.
Time, if they were in need or want of company. Money, whatever little you had, if they were in need of something they couldn't afford on their own. Your health, if they were sick and needed caring, even if giving them aid brought their illness upon you.
But the one thing you could not bring yourself to do was marry that terrible man.
They wanted you to marry a local hunter with some wealth, one who could provide for you and your family with his talents. He wasn't unpleasant to look at, and admittedly his wealth had appeal to families suffering from poverty, but you just couldn't get past his dreadful personality.
He was insufferably arrogant in his pride, and truly awful in his views towards women. He didn't want a wife– he wanted a maid; one he could lie with and have bear his children. His desire for such was clear every time you spoke with him.
You knew that he'd never see you as a partner, or an equal, or even love you. In his eyes, you were nary more than a pretty object for him to do with as he pleased. You didn't want that to be your life, refused to be a glorified servant to such a horrid person.
And so, in the dead of night on the eve of your wedding, you made your escape. Tiptoeing through your house as quietly and carefully as you could, you tucked away what little belongings you had and food your family could spare into a basket, and fled into the woods surrounding your village.
You veered off the beaten path, hoping that if you fled into the dense heart of the forest no one would risk trying to find you. Your village believed the woods to be inhabited by dangerous creatures– all manner of fae and magical beasts that would not hesitate to bring harm to lost humans.
All who left the village stuck strictly to the dirt paved roads, and even hunters didn't wander too far inside the woods. You didn't fear the creatures of fable, to be honest; you didn't even believe they existed. You were an avid reader, and enjoyed your share of fairy tales; you just found it hard to believe such creatures existed beyond the page.
It was risky and dangerous to flee into the woods at night, but not because of the stories of magic beasts and trickster fae; such things were the machinations of imaginative writers, and nothing more. Those who believed in them were simply overly superstitious, fearful of what could be instead of what is.
What you were scared of were the tangible, real threats that you knew very well existed. Wild animals, strange men, violent hunters– those were the things lurking in the woods that people should really be scared of; not silly stories of fairies who lure unsuspecting villagers deeper into the forest.
Regardless of what is real and what isn't, one thing is for certain– the forest is frightening to navigate at night. To ensure you remained undetected and hard to track, you forwent bringing a lantern with you, and having only the moonlight to guide you is both challenging and unnerving.
Even the smallest of noises puts you on edge, but you refuse to stop moving onward. You want to put as much distance between you and the village as you can before your family rises in the morning and notices you missing.
While you doubt many will be willing to follow your trail once they've put together that you've fled off the road and deep into the woods, you can't deny the possibility that someone may wish to try. Especially your arranged husband considering what a skilled hunter and tracker he is.
Still, you do need some rest– you've been walking through the densest parts of the forest for over an hour now, and you're more than a little tired; especially since you only got a few hours of sleep before setting off.
Just a short pause should be acceptable; you can rest against a tree, rummage through your basket for some of the food you tucked away to replenish your energy while giving your legs and feet the break they need.
It's nearly impossible to see inside your basket, so you simply feel for the food you want with your hand. It doesn't take you long to find the loaf of bread you packed inside, and you carefully tear off a piece to eat. You take a bite, and then another, but before you can take a third you hear a noise that makes you freeze.
The snapping of a branch, much louder than any previous forest sounds you heard, followed by a slight rustling of leaves. You look in the direction you heard the noise, met with the terrifying sight of a pair of glowing eyes looking straight at you.
Their low proximity to the ground tells you enough about the creature to make your blood run cold; and as it steps closer, and its silhouette becomes clearer, you realize what you thought was correct. It’s a wolf. And by the way it’s sizing you up, you can guess it’s hungry.
To make matters worse, it soon becomes clear it isn’t the only one as more glowing eyes emerge between the dark trees. You start running before you can even truly think, your body running purely on survival instinct, your basket dropped and forgotten behind you. The small amount of food inside is enough to draw the attention of some of them, but the rest ignore it to give chase.
You flee with all your strength, doing your best not to stumble and fall over protruding tree roots or your own feet. You keep your eyes forward as you do, worrying that looking over your shoulder to see the wolves close behind will only worsen your efforts to get away. 
Your lungs ache, your feet hurt, your dress torn in multiple places from snagging on branches– but still, you can’t stop running. The wolves are faster than you, they’ll catch you eventually, you know it; but the desperation and adrenaline coursing through your veins keeps you going beyond your limits. 
Your legs will give out before long, you'll falter and lose speed, it's inevitable; but you will yourself to keep going for as long as you can despite it. Realistically, your only hope for survival is the wolves losing interest before you grow too tired to continue. But is that even a possibility?
Maybe you should climb a tree? Can wolves climb? No, more importantly, can you? It’s over for you if you misstep or lose your strength during the climb up– falling would assuredly be the end of you. 
Still, maybe it’s worth the risk. You can’t run forever, and it’s unlikely the wolves will give up the chase– better to try and fail than to not try at all, right? If you are to face death tonight, you wish to do so knowing that you tried everything you possibly could to escape it.
You scan your surroundings the best you can whilst running, looking for a tree with a branch low enough to the ground for you to feasibly reach and start your climb. It's a difficult task, the images before you as you run a dark blur; but eventually, you spot a branch you think will be suitable enough.
As you turn your body to reach out for it, one of the wolves lunges towards you, salivating jaws snapping at you. The wolf narrowly misses, instead biting through your dress and tearing a significant chunk of the fabric off, exposing your leg up to your thigh.
You let out an involuntary shriek at the sound of the fabric ripping in the wolf’s jaws, the knowledge that it easily could’ve been your leg chilling you to the bone. You’re terrified, but you can’t let yourself freeze up– it missed, and now is your best chance to get up the tree before it can try to bite you again, or the other wolves catch up with you.
You grab the branch, placing your foot on the trunk of the tree as you ready yourself to pull up your weight, but as you do you’re met with a sound that sinks your heart to the very pit of your stomach. The branch isn’t as sturdy as you hoped; it creaks and splinters as you pull, and it quickly becomes clear that should you attempt to pull your entire weight up with it, it will snap entirely.
So this is it, you think as you turn around to meet the gaze of the snarling wolf. You take a small step back, and then another, until your back is against the tree you hoped to climb. More wolves soon approach, and you know you’re cornered now. There’s nowhere else for you to go, nothing else you can think to try; your fate is sealed.
You try to make peace with it in these last moments you have; this isn’t how you imagined your life would someday end, but you knew the risks when it came to entering the woods. While you hoped differently, this was always a possibility. You were desperate, and you made your choice; and though the outcome is unfortunate, you don’t want to regret making the decision that brought you here.
As the wolves begin to fully encircle you, there is a loud thump in the distance that draws their attention away from you. The sound rings out again, and then again, and as it draws closer, you realize the ground is shaking, a cacophony of twigs and dried leaves snapping with each thump. Certainly you’re mistaken, but it sounds reminiscent of walking..
That’s impossible, isn’t it? The creature in question would have to be massive to cause the earth to shake around you this much, and to snap so many branches with each step. That simply can’t be reality– there’s no way something that big lives in the forest; giants and the like are nothing but fairy tales!
Still, the thumps continue to grow louder as whatever is causing the sounds draw closer, and you’re certain that if you weren’t already against a tree, you would’ve fallen over from how intensely the ground shakes. Some wolves whimper and flee with their tails between their legs, while the more ferocious of the pack stand their ground against whatever it is that approaches.
Its shadowy silhouette soon becomes visible through the trees, the forest floor shaking violently as it comes more clearly into view. You can’t tell what it is, but it's big– impossibly so. It’s too dark to make out features, and its height obscures the moonlight that was previously shining on you. The only thing you can make out through the shadow is.. Horns?
Unconsciously, you suck in a breath; it’s The Beast, you realize as it takes another hulking step towards you and the ravenous wolves. Half man, half monster, violent and aggressive, with an appetite for any foolish enough to wander into its territory. With horns and hooves, it easily towers over even the tallest of human men.
He’s the creature those living in your village fear the most, the subject of many cautionary tales told to children, the conjurer of countless hunter's nightmares. You never believed it– and it is only now that you think maybe you should’ve. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have been so reckless in your escape from home.
You wonder which fate is worse; to be eaten by wolves, or eaten by The Beast. You wish you could run while the wolves are distracted, but your legs are frozen; whether from exhaustion or terror, you aren’t sure. Regardless, you stand there trembling and helpless, watching as it easily shoves the wolves aside.
They bite and scratch at The Beast, but it makes no discernable sound of pain. Seemingly unphased, it (or he?) reaches out for you, lifting you from the ground with ease, as if you weigh little more than a feather. You sob as it does, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the pain to follow.
But the pain never comes. Slowly, you open one eye to peek at The Beast; it isn’t looking at you, but simply straight ahead as it resumes walking. He continues to shove off the wolves that attack, and as the animals realize it is futile to stop or slow him, they slowly but surely give up and retreat back to whence they came.
He must’ve made a turn before you opened your eyes, because the moon is no longer obscured by his size, and now illuminates the creature’s face clearly. His face is mostly that of a man’s, with the exception of his nose. 
His nose is a rich brown bespeckled in pink, you can just barely tell, and its shape reminds you of the cattle that farmers own back in your village. You notice that his ears are bovine too, and fluffy in appearance. Brown in color, you think, or maybe black; it’s too dark to tell for certain.
The Beast looks down at you as if it can feel you observing him, and when he does, you can feel his breath envelop your body. Its smell is.. pleasant? Surprisingly so; like mixed berries, with a hint of tea leaves.
You expected something worse, given the tales; shouldn’t he smell like blood, or flesh? Even when his breath leaves you, you don’t detect anything remotely foul coming from him. In fact, his body smells unexpectedly clean.
“Safe now,” The Beast speaks, and you blink in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to be capable of speech, though you suppose it makes sense if he’s half man. It sounds like he’s trying to whisper, but his voice still comes out quite loud regardless; consequence of his size, you imagine. 
But wait– does he mean you? You’re safe now? It occurs to you then that he’s holding you gently in his large arms. He isn’t squeezing you, constricting your movement, or trying to hurt you in any way; he’s simply carrying you. But to where? Though you’re apparently safe, there’s still a part of you that fears you won’t be for long.
It’s likely that as a half man he has some measure of human intelligence, and it’s very possible this apparent kindness is part of a ploy to make eating you easier. Get you to his den, build trust with you so you don’t run, all so he can relish in devouring you later.
Regardless, you’re too exhausted to do anything right now. Fatigue has settled in you now that the adrenaline has run its course through your body. You wouldn’t be able to run in this state, nor be able to fight him off– not that you think you could anyways, but especially not like this. 
Your body falls limp, your eyes heavy, weary. As you close them, all you can do is hope that The Beast doesn’t toy with you in the end. If you wake before he decides to eat you, your wish is that he makes your death swift and painless. That’s all you can ask for as you lose consciousness.
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When you blink awake, the first thing you register is that you’re in a bed– a large one at that. It’s comfortable, plush, and warm, if not a tad dusty. The blanket that covers you too is warm, and you realize as you continue to blink away the grogginess that you’re staring up at a darkly colored canopy– a deep purple.
Turning your head to the left, you see stained glass windows with a design of red roses filtering in small amounts of sunlight through worn, tattered drapes. On the right side lies the door to the room you’re in, wooden and carved with a motif of roses identical in design to the one on the windows.
How did you get here? You stare back up at the canopy, trying to recall what happened last night. You were walking for what felt like ages, you got tired and stopped to eat.. Wolves found you, you were running, and then.. The Beast! 
You sit up quickly as the memory hits you, and take a panicked look around the room. He isn’t here, you realize after a moment, and your brows furrow in confusion. Did someone else stumble upon you and save you from The Beast? That must be it– there’s no way the dreaded beast of the forest brought you here.
The entire room is covered in a thin layer of dust, though it’s clear that someone made an effort to clean it recently. For your sake, you wonder? Removing the blanket and looking down, you can see you’re still in your torn clothes from the night before. You rise from the bed carefully, your legs still aching from the events prior to waking up here, and take another, more in depth look around the room you’re in.
It’s a rather empty room, with just a few pieces of furniture strewn about, and a fireplace sitting in the center of the wall opposite the bed you were sleeping in. In one of the corners of the room sits a large wardrobe, and next to it a chair with a dress laid atop it that you assume has been placed there for you to change into. 
You walk over to the chair and take the dress into your hands, and it does seem like it’ll fit well enough when you hold it up to your body. It feels to be made of silk, and while not necessarily lavish, it is much fancier than any of the dresses you could get back home.
You consider for a moment if it’s really okay to change into, but ultimately conclude that it was laid out with a purpose, and you should accept the kindness. Besides, you don’t think remaining in your now tattered dress would do you any good.
You change quickly despite the ache remaining in your limbs, and unsure of what exactly to do with your old clothes, you opt for placing them on the same chair you grabbed the new dress from. Afterwards, you step to the rose-carved door, and slowly pull it open to peek out.
You’re not sure if leaving the room is a good idea, but there’s no one in the hall to instruct you otherwise, and you’re admittedly starving. You hope you can find a kitchen, or the person who kindly saved you so you can thank them and ask them for a meal.
The door opens to a long hallway, lined with lattice windows and rusty knight statues. Wall sconces take up the spaces between the windows, though many are missing the candles meant to reside in them. 
Artwork lines the opposite wall, decorating the spaces between what you assume to be other bedroom doors. Some are askew and others perfectly straight, but all are old and worn. Landscapes, still life, portraits– regardless of type, the paint on each and every one has dulled and chipped, with a layer of dust atop them.
Continuing down the hall past the several closed doors, you come to a set of stairs leading down. Following it down leads to another long hall, though this one is quite different. Multiple chandeliers hang from the ceiling, evenly spaced apart in a line. There are vases and statues of various types; human, gargoyle, angel– some few perfectly intact, but many broken in some way, often missing entire limbs.
There are no windows, and the walls are not painted like in the previous hall, but appear to be carved of stone, with each vase and statue nestled between expertly carved columns. There are only two doors in this hall– one in the center of each wall. Both doors are locked when you try them, and so you move on down the hall, eventually finding yet another set of stairs leading down. 
They bring you to what appears to be a grand entryway. Across from you is an identical set of stairs leading to what is likely a similarly structured wing of the castle you appear to be in. To the left, between both sets of stairs, is a large door that nearly touches the ceiling, and to the right a large open hall with what you think are the doors leading outside at the very end of it.
Simply leaving would be tempting if you weren’t in dire need of a meal, or entirely unsure of where exactly you are. You can tell the castle you’re in is quite old given the state of things, but you can’t think of any such old, worn down castles you’ve heard tale of. All the castles you know of are well occupied by royalty; none, as far as you’re aware, have been left to fall to dust and ruin like this.  
It’s terribly confusing, and if you don’t find a kitchen soon, you at least hope you’ll find someone kind and willing to provide you answers. Forgoing the large door that you’re pretty sure leads to a ballroom, as well as the opposite staircase you’re confident will lead to a hall identical to the one you were just in, you step right, to the entry hall.
There are a few doors on each side, and to your relief, one of them is labeled “Dining Hall.” A dining hall has to lead to a kitchen! Eagerly, you pull open the door, and as you do, you gasp when you realize The Beast himself is standing next to the dining table.
He’s looking straight at you, ears flickering in response to the sound of your gasp. You can’t help but freeze, having convinced yourself that it was impossible for him to be here, for him to have been the one to bring you here. You’re too stunned to move– everything in you was expended when fleeing the wolves, and now all you can do is stand before him.
You can see him much better now than you could last night, his every feature clearly defined by the sunlight filtering in through the dining hall’s large windows. His hair is curlier than you realized, and deeply brown, as are his bovine ears. His cheeks are round, his lips pouty and entirely human in shape.
You can also now see clearly just how broad he is– and strong. His torso, while decidedly man, is still much larger than a regular man’s could ever be. His pecs and arms are muscular and well defined, while his stomach appears to be soft, and maybe a little squishy, with a dark patch of fur trailing down beneath his belly button. 
He is in no way similar to a man beneath that point. The Beast has the legs reminiscent of a bull, every inch covered in thick, dark fur down to his hooves. His legs are much thicker than any you’ve ever seen, human or otherwise; you can only conclude this is because he is as strong in his legs as he is in his arms.
Lastly, is a tail swishing leisurely from side to side behind him. You can just barely see it when he’s facing you, but the glimpses you get of it further reminds you of cattle. Long and thin, with a large amount of fur at the tip of it. Part of you wonders if his fur is as soft as it looks– you didn’t feel it last night to know.
Parts of his arms are messily bandaged, bits of red tainting the otherwise white fabric– blood, you conclude, from when the wolves attacked him. He’s wearing a cape, the same shade of deep purple as the canopy that hung over the bed you woke up in, clasped around his collar bone with a golden buckle. The buckle, similar to the doors and some of the stained glass windows, is beholden with the image of a rose. 
It feels wrong to think so, but he’s attractive– were he a purely human man, you’re certain many village girls would swoon for him.
“You’re awake,” he smiles for a moment, clearly human teeth showing for a split second before he stops and timidly breaks direct eye contact. “I wanted to help with torn dress but couldn’t. Hands too big,” he continues, showing his hands to you to further prove his point– not that you need him to. 
“I picked a new one for you instead, glad you found it. Glad you’re wearing it,” he says, and you’re still too surprised to even speak in turn. “Looks.. Nice?” he says with an unsure tilt of the head. It seems as if he wants to compliment you, but is unsure in his word choice. He looks contemplative for a moment, as if mulling over if there’s a better word he could’ve used. 
You get the impression he isn’t used to interacting with humans. You yourself aren’t used to interacting with beasts.
“I wanted to bring you food. You must be hungry! But I don’t know everything humans like to eat..” he muses as he turns his attention back to the dining table, where you now realize an abundance of food is laid out. Nice food. 
Fruit platters, veggie trays, fine meats.. He has it all. If you weren’t already in awe of The Beast, this alone would floor you, because all this food would cost a fortune in your village unless you grew it and hunted for it yourself.
“This is for me..?” you finally find your voice and manage to ask. He nods and waves his hand, beckoning you to approach the table. Cautiously, you do, still in awe of it all.
Tentatively, you stand next to him before the dining room table, taking a nervous glance up towards him. You knew very well he was big and tall, but your difference in height is positively dizzying up close.
Your own stature barely even exceeds past his waist; if you were to look at him straight on, your eyes would be level with his belly button. His hands are bigger than your head, his legs thicker than your entire body. It’s as amazing as it is frightening– how can a creature this big even exist? You swallow, trying not to think about his size as you turn your attention back to the food.
“How did you get all this?” you manage to ask him; you can’t imagine someone as huge as him going out to collect fruits and vegetables– you imagine he’s much too big to be able to do so without struggling.
“I trade with friends of the forest. Little winged ones love shiny, sparkly things. They give me food in exchange,” he answers as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Well, for him, it is normal. But you can’t imagine this big, burly man-beast trading with fairies. You’re hardly even ready to accept he’s real, much less that fairies are!
It’s all too much to wrap your head around. Maybe you should just eat– maybe everything will start to make more sense once your stomach is full. You hope.
You find a bare plate on the table, and pick it up to start loading food onto. The Beast watches you, seemingly happy that you’re choosing to eat the food he has out on the table. Once satisfied, you take a seat, giving him one last cursory glance before focusing on the meal in front of you.
“Aren’t you going to eat too? This is a lot of food,” you inquire as you start to nibble on the fruit you picked out. “Wanted to make sure you got enough,” he replies, "You had a bad night, used a lot of energy. Need to have enough food to recover."
You can’t believe how seemingly nice, considerate, and intelligent The Beast is. Not only is he real, but he seems to be genuinely kind and caring. The stories paint him as violent, ferocious, ravenously blood-thirsty.. But the creature in front of you seems so far removed from those things.
“What’s your name?” you ask him, and he seems surprised for a moment. He must not have been expecting you to ask. “Little winged ones call me Changbin,” he answers. You repeat it back to him, and he smiles just a little as he nods his head. “Your name?” he asks after, and he repeats it to himself after you offer it, just the same as you did with his.
“Do you live here?” is your next question, and he nods once more. “Alone?” you follow up, and again he nods. It’s clear that Changbin isn’t the castle's original inhabitant, and you wonder how long it lay abandoned before he claimed it as his home.
Of course, he could’ve killed the owners to take it, but the more you speak with him, you simply can’t imagine him being so cold blooded. He seems too… sweet.
A more pressing question– where are you exactly? You’re certain you’re still within the bounds of the forest, as you saw nothing but trees every time you looked out a window. But if that’s the case, how has an entire castle gone unnoticed? Castles aren’t exactly small– surely you and the other villagers would’ve seen it poking through the top of the trees.
Was it the magic that people believed the forest to hold that left it obscured? Or was it so deep in the forest, with the trees that surround it so tall and dense that even spying it from a distance was impossible? No matter the truth, the simple fact remains that there is much more to the forest than you ever thought, and it’s a lot to digest all at once.
“Why did you save me?” you decide to ask him instead of trying to unravel the mysteries and secrets of the forest. “You needed help,” he answers easily, “humans fear me, but I always try to help.” 
It’s easy to imagine his words true. A human like you, perhaps a hunter accidentally straying too far into the forest. They find themselves lost, hurt, or in trouble, and Changbin finds them.
He tries to help, but in their terror, they flee further into danger, get themselves more lost, strain an already injured leg.. And the ones who make it back tell a terrifying tale of The Beast in the forest who wished to devour them when all he actually wanted to do was help them. It’s a bit sad to consider in all honesty. 
“When you're feeling better, do you want to go back home?” he asks once you’ve finished your meal, and it takes you by surprise. “I’d help you. Take you as far as I could. Help you find path."
He’d really help you get home..? Just like that? You begin to feel bad that even after he rescued you, gave you a warm place to sleep, a new change of clothes and a meal, there was still a part deep inside you that feared what his intentions with you could be.
“No,” you answer after a moment, “I was in the forest trying to get away from home. My life there.. It wouldn’t be good if I went back.” 
“Then.. you stay? I’ll help you. Protect you,” Changbin offers, a faint smile appearing on his lips when you nod.
“I’ll stay,” you affirm. It’ll be strange at first, you’re sure, living in a castle in the middle of the apparently enchanted woods with The Beast your village fears so much. But you’d rather live here, with a physical beast, rather than back home, with the metaphorical one you’d be forced to call “husband.”
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Living with The Beast, Changbin, is surprisingly pleasant. It was easier than you expected it to be; almost natural.
On your first official night in the abandoned castle he made his home, he gave you a tour. What was intended to be a tour of strictly the important rooms you’d be expected to frequent turned into a several hour long walkthrough of the entire estate. He took you through the kitchen, the bathrooms, the study, the drawing room, the library, the watchtower– everything.
You could tell which rooms he frequented most by how dusty they were. If there was very little dust, you concluded that he was there often. If there was a large accumulation of it, he stayed out of it.
The watchtower was one of the rooms he liked to be in the most, often finding himself surveying the forest from it. That's how he saw you fleeing the wolves– and the moment he did, he descended the tower in a rush, hoping to get to you before any harm would befall you.
Additionally, you learned that his bedroom is in the opposite wing of yours. Changbin said he purposely chose the room furthest from his own to put you in because he thought you’d be more comfortable that way if you chose to stay for a while. He’s used to humans fearing him, and he wanted to give you whatever distance you’d need to feel safe during your time here.
Truthfully, you stopped being scared of him very quickly. If there was anyone the term “gentle giant” suited, it was assuredly Changbin. He always stepped through the castle carefully, doing his best not to shake the ground too hard and risk shattering glass or knocking over vulnerable statues and vases. 
He knew his voice was booming, so he always tried to speak softly. It was still loud, of course, but you knew it could be much louder if he allowed himself to project it fully. When he handled porcelain or other breakables, he would move his hands so slowly and carefully that you’d think he was holding a newborn baby.
Changbin would often stare at you quietly when you were in the same room, assumedly out of curiosity. He’d never gotten the chance to share a space with a human, or to observe them up close for such great lengths of time; it made you wonder what he must think of you. 
You wondered if there was anything he assumed a human would be that didn’t prove true, similar to how wrong you were about him. You always noticed his staring, and oftentimes when you decided to return his gaze, he’d quickly turn away.
Did he have the gut human instinct to look away when eye contact becomes too intense or prolonged? Was he simply shy? Both?
Sometimes he would smile before he looked away, the faintest peek of a dimple showing on his cheek before darting his eyes elsewhere. Sometimes his cheeks would dust over a soft pink, and other times, on the rare moments he let himself smile more fully, the bridge of his nose would scrunch up similarly to a humans.
Was it strange to say you found such moments cute? He was oddly endearing in the way he went about life, in his mannerisms and complexities. And admittedly, you’d stare at him the same way he stared at you when his attention was elsewhere.
At first, you justified it to yourself by saying you couldn’t help it– you discovered a magical creature that you always thought was nothing more than a story is real. How could you not stare at him? But lately, you weren’t so sure that’s all there was to it.
Changbin was many things outside of being The Beast. He was warm, soft, and sincere. Caring, considerate, and careful. He was.. Attractive. Handsome. Cute. Words you never thought you’d use to describe a creature with protruding horns and other inhuman features. And with each season passed inside the castle together, the more you grew fond of him. 
You spent many afternoons together in the library. You were surprised to learn he could read; something that perhaps shouldn’t have been surprising in hindsight, given his capability of speech, but it still shocked you. The ability to read wasn’t something necessary to his everyday life, but he liked doing it to pass time, or ease the loneliness of living alone.
All the books in the castle’s library were dated, easily hundreds of years old; it was clear that every single book was one left behind by the previous inhabitants, and not a single new book had entered the library since. Their age didn’t make them any less enjoyable however, and in fact you found it exciting to have so many stories you’d never heard of before to dive into. 
Watching Changbin read was a treat within itself. Even the thickest of novels looked comically small in his large hands, and turning pages was always a struggle for him. You couldn’t help but giggle watching him try to turn a single page with his finger, only to instead turn several. There were many times you took it upon yourself to help him once your giggling subsided. 
Given his size, he’d often have to sit in a hunched position, or hold books up quite close to his face to read them. And the words– they must’ve looked so tiny to him; you were certain it was a strain. Then add his struggle to turn pages on top of it..
While it was cute to watch him pout after he turned way too many pages at once, you also didn’t want to just sit idly by if he was having a hard time. Especially not when you were more than capable of assisting him.
He was surprised when you first offered to help him read, curiously tilting his head as he watched you close the book you were reading to walk over to him. Changbin often sat on the floor, much too big and heavy to sit in the castle’s arm chairs or sofas. His place on the floor made it easy for you to climb up his leg, and sit on his thigh. 
“I could turn the pages for you,” you explained, reaching over to the book lying in his hands to demonstrate how easy it is for you to turn the pages one at a time. “Or read them to you, should your eyes grow tired from looking at the tiny words,” you said. 
You remember his smile clearly; how sweet it was, and the way his nose cutely scrunched as his smile grew the biggest you’d seen it. He seemed really thankful; he didn’t say it, but you think it meant a lot to him that you were showing him kindness.
That’s how you fell into a comfortable routine. At least a few afternoons a week, you’d sit somewhere on Changbin’s body; one of his thighs if you were reading the book to him, or his forearm if you were turning the pages for him. Sometimes his shoulder too, if a book needed to be held especially close to his face for him to be able to read the words written.
When the sun would set, and candles needed to be lit, you often sat on his shoulder as he moved about the room, helping him light them. He’d always help you up carefully, offering one of his large hands as support, or carefully wrap his fingers around you to lift you up to his shoulder. He wouldn’t move an inch or take a single step until he was certain you were steady and comfortable.
You’d always get sleepy after that. The moon through the windows, the soft candle light, the sound of turning pages as the wood in the library’s fireplace crackled, the warmth Changbin exuded.. It was just so comfortable; especially if you were sitting on his thigh.
His fur was like a blanket, his broad, soft torso like a warm pillow. And sometimes, when you relaxed all the way against him, you could hear his heart rhythmically beating. It wasn’t uncommon for you to fall asleep, and every time you did, Changbin would carry you back to your room.
He would carefully cradle you in his arms, and you’d unconsciously curl into him as he rose up from the ground to carry you to bed. The doors of the castle, while larger than any typical door, were still too small to accommodate his size. 
He’d have to duck through them while also minding his horns, your body pressing to his chest as he hunched his body to step through them. If you were awake enough to feel it, you never minded it. If you were being honest, you liked it. You liked the warmth when he held you, liked feeling his chest against you, liked hearing the thumping of his heart.
Sometimes, you were tempted to ask him to stay with you, or to ask him to take you to his room. Changbin was just so comfortable and warm– having him next to you all night just sounded like it’d be so pleasant. Safe too; you always felt safe in his presence.
The following mornings, you’d stare up at your canopy and wonder if such thoughts were okay to have. Changbin was a man– an inhuman man, but a man all the same. And it was in these moments, alone in your room and fresh from sleep, contemplating where you are and the life you lead now that you realize you are more than just fond of Changbin. 
You knew you would never leave the castle, but it wasn’t just because your best chance at survival and protection was here. It was because the thought of leaving him behind made your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. You didn’t like contemplating what a life without him in it would look like. 
And it was almost funny how despite being a beast, Changbin was the kindest man you’d ever known. Complicated as it may be, you think you love him more than you should. You want him more than you should.
It’d hit you when you shared meals, and he’d watch you with his impossibly dark, warm eyes. His attentive stare made you warm– too warm. You’d swallow, try to focus on anything other than his full lips, or the swell of his chest, or the flex of his arms when he reached out to grab a piece of meat. 
It'd hit you when you watched him split wood for the fireplaces with his bare hands. Your heart would swell when you'd step out to the gardens, and he'd carefully maneuver so as to not crush the growing flowers. From innocent, sweet love to deepest, carnal desire, and then back again, your thoughts of Changbin were like a pendulum.
It’d even hit you in the moments of comfortable silence, when ease settled over you both at day's end. When you’d tentatively steal glances at each other until your eyes accidentally meet, and you both look away, bashful and unsure. 
You’d feel it creeping on you, warming your body exponentially until you felt feverish with desire to be closer to him. Even alone, in bed or in the bath, your thoughts would linger on him. Innocent thoughts and curiosities about how it'd be for him to kiss and hold you quickly give way to perversion– impure thoughts you really, really think you shouldn’t be having. 
You needed to get yourself together. There’s no way an intimate relationship is feasible between you– you shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. But God, you can’t stop your mind from going there. Even just watching him lick his lips and fingers clean after he finishes eating is enough to get your heart racing these days.
Every day, you desperately try to ignore it.
It’s easier on the days you venture outside the castle’s familiar walls. Warm, sunny days, where you explore the forest from the safety of Changbin’s broad shoulder. He showed you so many things you’d never seen before, things you never thought were real.
Fairy villages, magic healing ponds, meadows of enchanted flowers. His fairy friends were excited to meet you, and similar to Changbin himself, you realized they were much kinder than tales would lead you to believe. 
They were tricksters, yes; many were fond of a good prank. But really, they just wanted to have fun, and there was no inherent harm in that. (Though Changbin did advise you to speak carefully, lest you accidentally end up in a fae pact he’d have no way to help you out of.)
You watched Changbin trade with them too. A few beads from a broken necklace or marbles from a forgotten child’s playset he found within the castle you called home was all he needed to provide to receive bushels of their freshly grown fruits and vegetables.
If you returned back to the castle with a good chunk of daylight left, you’d spend them together in the castle’s flower garden. It was overgrown, and sometimes hard to navigate, but you always enjoyed your time there. Changbin would always set you down to the ground carefully, letting you roam the garden at your leisure while he picked a sunny spot in the grass to relax in.
You got the idea to make him a flower crown once. It was something you and other village girls enjoyed doing, and it was common to give them to people you cared for. It was simple, but you thought it’d be a good way to show your appreciation to Changbin for all the ways he helped you since the day you met him. 
You wondered, as you went around the garden picking flowers, if he had ever received a gift before. Apart from his dealings with the fairies, he lived a very isolated life before he met you. And while the fairies were his friends to some extent, you couldn’t imagine them giving something away without receiving something in return. 
You suppose you just wanted him to have the feeling of joy that comes with a gift. The warm feeling that settles in your chest when you realize someone was thinking of you, the delight that seeps inside you when you see the effort they made to give you a visual representation of how much they care for you. You were thinking that Changbin deserves to have that feeling.
When you were done collecting what felt like dozens of flowers, you sat yourself in the sunny grass clearing next to Changbin. He was lying flat on his back, the sun highlighting his face beautifully. His eyes were closed, and the soft snores (for his size, anyways), told you he’d fallen asleep. 
You observed him for a moment, smiling to yourself over how soft and cute his features looked whilst sleeping before you got to work on the flower crown. It took quite some time considering you had to make it much larger than you typically would. Changbin eventually stirred awake and sat up, watching you work curiously but ultimately saying nothing as he observed– he didn’t want to distract you.
“Finally! All done!” you exclaimed after threading the final of the flowers you picked together, and Changbin did his usual inquisitive tilt of the head. “It’s pretty. What is it for?” he asked, watching as you rise to your feet with your creation in hand. “It’s a flower crown,” you answer as you hold it out to him to accept, “for you.” 
He simply blinked in response, saying nothing as he processed the information. It may not have been the first time he’d ever been given a gift by another, but it was certainly the first one he’d ever received from a human. You didn’t intend to let it be the last, either. “Crown?” he finally asked after a moment, “I wear it?”
“Mhm! Like this,” you said as you held the crown around your head to try to show him what you meant. “It’s too big for my head since I made it for you, but.. Here, let me put it on you!” You hooked the flower crown you made gently around your arm after you spoke, and grabbed at one of his hands.
Changbin understood what you wanted him to do, and so he lowered his hands to the ground so that you could step onto them. You sat on your knees whilst in his hands, finding it much easier to keep your balance that way as opposed to standing; and then, as he had many times before, he lifted you carefully up.
You instructed him to tilt his head towards you, and he did without question. It occurred to you then that maybe you underestimated how big you needed to make the flower crown.
The one you made was definitely big– too big for a human head, that was for sure. Still, Changbin is at least double the size of every man in your village, and he has horns. Realizing there was no way to make it sit around his head the way it's intended to, you opted for simply placing it on his head between his horns, and letting it rest there.
You smiled at him when he lifted his head, and told him what you truly thought– that he looked cute. “Really?” he questioned, surprised to be considered such. There have been many words by humans and his little winged friends used to describe him, and ‘cute’ wasn’t usually among them.
You watched him as he processed his thoughts, another few moments passing before he moved his hands to one of his shoulders, urging you to get on. You did, clinging to his cape tightly when he moved faster than you expected him to. Changbin was always patient and careful when you were on him, always moving slowly– you hadn’t anticipated the sudden change in the slightest. 
You were a little confused, unsure of what his sudden rush to leave the gardens was, but it quickly became clear; he was looking for somewhere to see his reflection. He tried the fountain first, but when he realized he couldn’t see himself clearly enough in the water, he made his way back to the castle.
The entry doors to the castle were tall and wide enough that he didn’t have to hunch or awkwardly step through them, but he still moved carefully through it. Despite his rush to see himself, he still wasn’t walking as fast as you both knew he could.
He was trying his best not to break the glass and porcelain inside nearby cabinets with his steps, though he was still moving quick enough that the castle’s floor shook as he continued through the entry hall. His desire to be careful even whilst in a rush was endearing; it brought a smile to your face.
The ballroom was Changbin’s ultimate destination. It had a large mirror, floor to ceiling, encompassing a substantial chunk of the wall opposite the windows. It was the only room in the entire castle that had a mirror large enough for him to see his entire reflection with, from the tips of his horns all the way down to his hooved feet.
His eyes changed when he first saw his reflection– so fast that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked. He got up close to the mirror, examining himself with the flower crown you made for him resting between his horns, and truly, he looked happy.
You chose the colors of the flowers well, each one meant to compliment the deep brown of his hair. Soft yellows, vibrant blues, and light, pretty pinks– each selection, in your eye, was perfect. You were relieved that Changbin seemed to agree.
He wasn’t just looking at the flowers atop his head in the reflection though; he was also looking at you. Sat there on his shoulder, looking at him with more kindness than he’d ever felt from anyone. Your eyes met through the reflection, and he could feel his heart starting to beat faster– he wondered if you could feel it too, with your legs dangling over his chest.
He’d never felt this way before, and didn’t know what to do with himself. He knew from his books that humans give gifts to people they care about, and for many reasons. Kindness, appreciation, love.. What was your reason? He found himself hoping it was all of them. He hoped you cared about him as much as he cares about you.
“Thank you,” Changbin said, realizing that he should’ve done so from the start. He thought maybe he should read more books on human manners and improve himself. He hoped he didn’t seem inappreciative by taking so long to thank you for doing something kind for him. His worries melted away when you smiled at him again though, sincere and sweet as always.
“You’re welcome! You’ve always done so much to help me, I wanted to thank you somehow,” you explain. Changbin didn’t think you needed to thank him for anything. No matter who it was out in the forest that night, he would’ve helped them. He’d have let them stay in his home, fed them, and made sure they were well.
But he’s glad it was you; he doesn’t think he could envision the castle without you in it anymore. There may come a day when you grow tired of Changbin being your only companion, and of your daily life in the castle. On that day, you may wish to return to human society, even if your return isn’t to the village you grew up in. 
He’d let you go if you wanted to; he’d never, never force you to stay. But he hopes you stay. He hopes that you’ll always be here with him.
“But that’s not the only reason I made it,” you continued, finding a moment of bravery to be a bit vulnerable with your feelings. Changbin watched your expression change in the mirror, your brightness replaced by something more timid as you twiddled your thumbs.
Apart from your tentative first nights here when you were still getting comfortable with his presence, you always met his gaze head on while talking. This was the first time since then that you hesitated to look him in the eye whilst speaking to him, even if it was just eye contact through the ballroom mirror. He found it curious; he wondered if he should be worried.
“The girls in my village also like to make these for people we care about. I wanted you to know that too. That I care about you,” you told him. It felt incredibly nerve wracking to say it aloud, though you didn't think he'd pick up on the underlying romantic sentiment that village girls usually tied to their gifted flower crowns.
Honestly, it was okay if he didn’t recognize how much you like him. Perhaps in some ways it was better if he didn’t; because you are a small human, and Changbin is so much more than that.
Difference in anatomy aside, you don’t think humans and beasts are supposed to have deep feelings for one another. Friendship was fine, you thought, but love? You just weren’t sure that was a line you should cross.
Still, regardless of whether or not such feelings towards him were okay to have, they were already there. Before that day, you thought you loved him; but seeing him look at you, pink in the cheeks and happy, with the flower crown on his head that you made him, you knew for certain.
You love him. And watching the concern melt away and turn to joy when you told him you care about him was more than enough to tell you how deeply you adore him.
You decided to leave the moment with one last, small gesture. You leaned over, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. It was a simple, innocent sign of affection, but his heart stuttered all the same, as did yours.
“I care about you too,” he’d said with his usual soft, timid smile when you looked at him again, the pink on his cheeks deepening, "very much.”
Laying awake as you are now, recalling your memories with Changbin, you yearn for him even more. You want him beyond friendship, foolish and impossible as it may be. You want to tell him you love him, to kiss him, to lie with him at night and feel his warmth envelope you all over. 
You want to touch him, want him to touch you, want to straddle as much of his waist as you can as he lies beneath you, and– God, enough, you huff to yourself. You roll over, bury your head in your pillows and let out a frustrated yell into them. 
You wish you knew what to do with these feelings. How would things go if you simply told him? What if you said nothing, and instead acted on them in one of your quietly shared moments of comfort? Would he accept your kiss? Would he return your feelings?
Tossing onto your back once more, you stare up at your canopy as you always do when your brain is plagued by thoughts of Changbin. You sigh after a moment, and close your eyes, wondering if he ever lies awake at night like you do, if he has feelings like yours that he too doesn’t know what to do with. Though you probably shouldn’t, you can’t help but hope that he does.
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The arrival of winter didn't make your struggle with your feelings for Changbin any easier. The outdoors used to serve as a distraction; your growing love and attraction to him was never truly silenced, but at least you found it easier to focus your attention elsewhere whilst you were outside the castle walls.
All you can do when you're inside the castle is think of him. When you're in the same room, you find it hard not to stare at him. And sure, you stared at him a lot before, but now it felt different; because before, you were simply curious about him. Now it's purely because you're too lovesick to look anywhere else.
When you read books together, you often find that you don't actually remember what happened in the story. At some point, your thoughts always travel to Changbin, and they linger there despite all efforts to focus on the book in your hands.
The fact that his body is touching yours more often these days doesn't help. It's a particularly cold winter, perhaps the coldest it's ever been in all your years. Snow is piled up to your calves when you step outside, tree branches are completely frosted over, and icicles hang from nearly every inch of the castle's exterior.
Suffice it to say, you are often very cold. Changbin doesn't suffer from the cold nearly as much as you do, but he does his best to keep the castle warmer for your sake. The minute you step into a room he lights the fireplace for you, and you stick close to it, sitting before it with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
But even still, you found yourself shivering much more than either of you'd like. The only time you stopped was when you were in his lap, likely thanks to the inhuman amount of warmth that radiates off his body.
So now, instead of sitting or laying in his lap just being a part of helping him read, you'd spend a majority of your winter days there, clinging to his warmth. He'd sit himself as close to the fireplace as he could, with you curled snuggly on his lap.
His fur was like an extra blanket, warm and soft and comfortable. Nearly every day was spent next to the library's fireplace, as reading was about the only thing you could do whilst trying to stay warm.
Though, as previously stated, you found it hard to focus on reading lately. And even when you did manage to focus on the words in front of you, your eyes would quickly grow heavy; Changbin was just too comfortable to lay on– you just couldn't resist dozing off.
Every night was cold, but some were worse than others. On the first of one of those extra chilly nights, when the time in which you'd go your separate ways for bed came, Changbin hesitated to carry you back to your room. Even if he lit your fireplace before he left, you'd be cold without him, he knew it for a fact.
He looked down at where he held you in his arms, asleep and curled into him, cozy and warm, and he made a decision; he took you to his room. You would understand, he thought. You may be confused when you wake up in a room that isn’t your own, but you’d understand why you were there.
And you trust him now; you wouldn’t be upset with him, especially not when he has your best interest at heart. He hoped not, anyways; in his experience, humans can be unpredictable. But you're a good human– one that he likes and cares for more than he ever has for anyone else.
With such thoughts in mind, he carried you to his room. And as he hoped, you weren't upset in the slightest to wake up the next morning beside him (or more accurately, atop him.)
You were certainly confused at first, opening your eyes and blinking away sleep only to be met with slightly unfamiliar surroundings. The windows and the view through them were the same, but the room was brighter than your own, with no curtains to obscure the sunrays pouring over you. There was less furniture strewn about than in your own room, and you were higher up from the ground than you’d be if you were lying in your own bed.
It took a moment for you to become cognitive enough to register that the reason for this, along with what the blissful warmth you were feeling was, was Changbin's body underneath you. One of his hands was resting on your back too, heavy and limp with sleep, but you didn't mind it. Strangely, you found the weight of his hand on your back comforting.
Your head was on his chest, and you could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart, slow but steady. That too, was comforting. You closed your eyes again, but you didn't fall asleep like you might otherwise expect. You were simply basking in the comfort, enjoying lying with him in bed like you'd been wanting to for so long. You wondered if he'd let you stay even once winter came to an end. 
When you felt him begin to stir awake, you lifted your head to look at him, watching him fondly as he stretched and hummed, and blinked away the last bits of whatever dream he was having. When your eyes met for the first time that morning, he seemed apprehensive; it was easy to deduce that he thought you may be uncomfortable with his choice to bring you here. 
Ideally, he would've asked you first, or let you know that the option would be available should you want it; but when he thought about how cold you'd be shivering alone in bed, he just couldn't leave you be. When you smiled at him and whispered a soft good morning, you saw nothing but pure relief in his eyes.
You knew Changbin's heart, that he was nothing but sweet and caring. The trust you placed in him, and the way you wordlessly understood him made his heart soar. But not just that– laying with you every night, and waking up to you in general made his body react in ways entirely foreign to him.
Naturally, from that cold winter’s night onward, you always slept with him. Your body, so soft and smooth, felt good pressed against him. If you weren’t yet asleep when he’d lie down with you in his arms, you’d hug him after you both settled in; your arms obviously couldn’t wrap fully around him, but you’d still try to get as much of his body in your embrace as you could manage to. 
And every morning, when you’d sit up in his lap and look down at him, his heart would always stutter, his already incredibly warm body growing hotter. Your sweet smile, your softly spoken “good morning”s, the way your lightly tousled hair beautifully framed your face– all of it affected him in ways he never imagined would happen to him.
Changbin knew of such feelings conceptually– he’s read more than his fair share of novels featuring romantic subplots within the library. But he always thought such experiences and sentiments would be out of reach for him; he was the only one of his kind in the forest, and normal humans feared him too greatly to build a bond with him.
Even you feared him at first, and while he hoped that it wouldn’t always be that way, he wouldn’t have been surprised if you never grew to like him. He was so, so happy when, in only a short time, you were no longer scared of him. He was even happier when you showed him kindness. He was happier still when he realized you considered him a friend. Having a companion after so many years of loneliness was more valuable to him than words could express.
In some ways, he supposes falling in love with you was natural. How couldn’t he fall in love with the first person to ever see him for who he was past his appearance? The first person who told him they liked his appearance. He didn’t believe you the first time you said it– how could he? All he’d ever known before from humans was fear and scorn.
He didn’t know how to accept it, always left in disbelief when you complimented him. But even if he didn’t quite believe it, he still liked hearing it. He liked it when you called him cute, or said he looked handsome, or kissed his cheek after calling him sweet.
He liked when you smiled at him, and the way you’d try to hold his hand despite how much smaller yours were than his. He liked listening to you talk, whether it was because you were reading a book to him, or because you had a lot on your mind; he could listen to you for hours, no matter the topic.
He likes hearing about your dreams, he likes the sound of your giggle, he likes the way you twirl in your dresses. He liked it when you taught him how to dance, and how you encouraged him when his steps were initially awkward. He liked how thoughtful and good you were to him. He likes that you help him believe he truly is all the kind things you describe him as.
No, he shouldn’t say he likes those things about you– it was much more accurate to say he loves them. Changbin loves everything about you. He wants to tell you as much, but he never imagined it’d be so difficult to say; he always thought that when the characters in his books struggled to find the words, it was merely exaggeration for dramatic effect.
In reality, it actually is quite hard to speak such things aloud. Changbin is normally a very candid person, able to speak whatever he thinks freely; but when it comes to you, and the feelings he has for you, his mouth runs dry, the words lodging in his throat. And realistically, should he even say them?
He knows it's true when you compliment him, he knows that you genuinely care for him and enjoy his company. But it’s hard to believe you can love him, it’s hard not to think he’s too different from you, hard to completely shut out the memories of humans fearing him. Sometimes, he’s scared that deep down there’s a part of you that still fears him.
"Changbin? Are you asleep..?" your voice calls to him softly, breaking him from his thoughts. It honestly startled him just a little; he's so used to you already being asleep before you're brought into the room, or falling asleep quickly if you aren't. He hadn't expected your voice to break the silence. 
As is typical for your nightly arrangement, you're lying atop him with your head on his chest. It's only now that he realizes your fingers have been absentmindedly tracing his skin the entire time he was lost in thought. 
Changbin doesn't have a bed in the traditional sense– he's much too big to fit on human mattresses. Instead, he has various pillows and blankets piled together on the floor. It's surprisingly comfortable, but you always find yourself laying on him, rather than next to him on his makeshift bed. 
"I'm awake," he murmurs, trying to keep his voice as soft and low as possible, "..was thinking." You hum, and lift yourself up to look at him. The room is dark, but his lack of curtains allows you to clearly make out his features in the moonlight.
He can see you just as clearly, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest; you're always so pretty when the moon illuminates you. 
"So was I. Made it hard to fall asleep," you reply, and Changbin eyes you curiously. He can tell by your somewhat solemn expression that something seems to be weighing on you. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now, something I can't stop thinking about," you continue. 
Changbin swallows, suddenly nervous. Given where his thoughts were just moments ago, he can't help but fear that the moment he's been dreading has finally come– this is where you ask him to take you home.
Maybe not home, as the village you grew up in is a place you don't wish to return, but away from here– away from him. Back to human society where you belong, to a place that he could never hope to follow, a place he could never live in with you.
"Wh-What.. What is it?" he asks, hesitant; he really hopes you can't tell how anxious he is, but he's certain his voice has betrayed it already. He wishes he wasn't so terrified of losing you.
Even in the dim lighting, you could clearly see the way his expression changed to one of immense trepidation. You wonder if he's nervous because he can see that you're nervous. It takes you a moment to even begin to speak again, timidly fidgeting with your fingers as you try to will your voice to return to you.
"Have you ever.. been in love..?" you ask him, voice so soft and timid that Changbin almost misses it, even with his exceptional hearing. You watch as his ears flick, his eyes widen slightly as he takes your question in, his cheeks growing ever so slightly pinker.
His surprise is to be expected– from his perspective, this question must seem incredibly out of the blue. But truthfully, it's been eating at you for weeks. You know you're in love with Changbin, but you don't know how possible it is for him to love you back. You don't know if he's ever loved anyone at all– and you have to know.
If not to give yourself hope, then to put your infatuation with him to rest once and for all. If he rejects you, living with him may be awkward for a time, but at least you could try to put an end to your hopeless pining.
Changbin blinks, unsure how to respond. If he were to answer on the basis of what his life was like before you were in it, then the answer was no– he'd never been in love. Never, in all his years, had met someone and fallen for them.
But if he were to answer for the present.. Is he in love now? Yes, he is– he's in love with you. Your eyes search his desperately, and it's clear there's an answer you're hoping to hear– but which answer is it? You chew your bottom lip nervously as you watch him consider his answer. "No, and yes," he finally responds.
"No, and yes..?" you mimic, uncertain and curious. Changbin nods, and he's thankful you're no longer laying on his chest, because you'd certainly hear the quick, erratic thumping of his heart.
"I was never in love. Not before. I.. am in love now," he says, letting out a nervous exhale as the last word leaves his lips. The implication is clear, and he watches apprehensively as your eyes widen, and the truth fully settles itself within you.
Changbin is always honest and forthright, in a way that humans typically never are. Free of societal norms and expectations, he's never had to lie about anything, nor does he feel the need to. So when he looks into your eyes, deep and vulnerable, and tells you that what he feels now is love, you believe him entirely.
"Me too," you utter softly, voice a timid whisper, "I was never in love, not before.. I am now."
Changbin sits up from his makeshift bed, quickly bringing one of his large hands to your back so that the sudden movement doesn't cause you to topple off him. He doesn't want to be lying down when he asks you if this means what he thinks it does– he wants to meet your gaze directly.
"Do you mean that? Can you really love me?" he questions, hopeful but unsure– it nearly breaks your heart that he even has to ask. If there's anything in your life that you're certain of, it's that Changbin is the best man you've ever known.
It doesn't matter that he's not entirely human, it doesn't matter that he eclipses you in size and stature, it doesn't matter that he has horns, hooves, and a tail. All that matters is how he treats you, and makes you feel; and you've never known anyone who makes you feel as warm, safe, and cared for as he does.
Sitting in his lap, you look up at him and smile, warm and affectionate. "I've never meant anything more than I mean this– I love you, Changbin."
In all his life, even at his loneliest and most isolated, in his most saddened and hurt, he'd never had the urge to cry. But now he feels it, welling from deep inside and choking him up. He's always wanted to be accepted, loved– even when it seemed impossible and entirely irrational, he wanted it.
What is it that humans do when they're filled with so much emotion for another? All his books have different answers, but there's one that sticks in his mind predominantly– they get married. And perhaps he can't marry you the way a human man can, but he can make the same vow; he can, and will, promise to love you for the rest of your lives.
You reach out to him, placing your hands on round cheeks, the heat of his blush incredibly warm on your palms. "Can I kiss you?" you ask him, and he sucks in a breath, nodding shyly. His ears pick up on the loud thumping of his quickly beating heart– he wonders if it's loud enough for you to hear it too.
You lean up as he leans down for you, both of you closing your eyes as you touch your lips softly to his. You linger there, feeling the blush on his cheeks flare with more heat as you kiss him. When you pull back, you can see his eyes sparkling with awe and adoration. Shyly, he breaks his gaze away from your eyes, darting them down to your lips; it’s easy to tell he wants to kiss you again.
With your hands still on his cheeks, you guide him back to you. You kiss him again and again, slow and gentle. Eventually, you let your hands move to his chest, and you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart beneath your fingertips. He brings one of his hands to your waist, and pulls you closer, until your tiny body is flush with his.
His lips are so plump and soft, and now that you know what they feel like against your own, you never want to stop kissing him. Unfortunately for you, your lungs are much smaller than Changbin’s, and you run out of breath very quickly, often having to be the one to pull away first.
He always watches you intently when you do, all the care and affection he has towards you pouring out of him in droves as he stares at you. But there's a new emotion written in his eyes too– desire, yearning. All you’ve done is kiss him, but he’s positively, undeniably enchanted by you, a deeply rooted need for more of your touch clawing its way to the surface.
When you kiss him again, you tentatively run your tongue across his bottom lip. The feeling jolts him, sending a shiver down his spine. He parts his lips, cautiously slipping his tongue out to run over yours, butterflies erupting in his stomach over the soft noise of approval you give him in response. 
His tongue is longer than yours, as well thick and textured– it makes you imagine what it’d feel like if you progressed further, and allowed him to run it over every inch of your body. For now, you simply open your mouth for him, letting him lick and explore; it fills you with a strange sensation unlike anything you’ve ever felt, but you love it. 
Changbin carefully scoops his hands beneath you, lifting you up so he doesn’t have to hunch down to kiss you anymore. You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him as closely as you can whilst your kisses continue to deepen and become more heated. He eventually grows just as breathless as you, his broad chest heaving as his thirst for you grows in intensity. 
It’s almost too much for him– the feeling of you in his hands, of you trying to press as much of your body to him as you can, of your sweet scent all over him. The need he feels for you goes beyond anything he’s ever felt, a deep innate hunger and desperation beginning to gnaw at him, clawing at his sense of reason.
He wants more of you– how much more he doesn’t know, but to simply kiss you isn’t enough. All of you, he thinks; he needs all of you in every way. He wants to feel you everywhere, to taste you everywhere, needs to experience the depths of love and intimacy with you.
He’s been trying for so long to deny how bad he wants it, so scared of scaring you off with unwanted advances– but now that he knows you feel the same as him, now that you’re kissing him like this, fevered and hungry, he can’t deny his craving for you any longer.
“Please,” Changbin whines under his breath when you next pull away, his voice the most light and airy either of you have ever heard. Anything, he’ll take anything you’re willing to give him– he just wants you, so badly he can hardly think straight anymore. It sends a wave of heat through your body, butterflies thrashing in your stomach. 
“Set me down, please?” you ask, and instantly he worries that he crossed a boundary, made you uncomfortable by wanting too much too soon. Still, he does as you ask, lowering his hands to the ground so you can reunite with the ground. He swallows nervously as he watches you step off his hands; thankfully, some of the tension he feels is eased when you shoot him your characteristically sweet, yet currently more bashful, smile.
The heat on his face flares when you break your gaze away from his face to look at his erection, fully unsheathed and visibly leaking large amounts of pre-cum. It’s thick, as is to be expected given his size, but to actually see it with your own eyes is astonishing. “Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed, starting to grab one of the many blankets littering the floor so he can cover himself.
You shake your head and reach for his hand, stopping him in his tracks. He slowly sets the blanket back down, both of you gazing at each other shyly as you swallow down your nerves to speak. “I want to.. Can I touch it..?” you ask, and oh, the way he throbs from the question alone. You can see it, heavy where it lies against his thighs, throbbing with desire and anticipation.
“Y-You- you want to?” he asks, very nearly sent reeling when you shyly nod your head. He’s wanted this for so long; and he tried not to, really. It felt inappropriate to want you that way, almost shameful every time he got hard with you in mind.
You always interacted with each other so sweetly, innocently– it felt perverse to lie in his makeshift bed at night and throb over the way your breasts looked pressed together in your dresses, or over the glimpses he got of your legs and thighs when you twirled around.
It wasn’t this way from the start; when he rescued you deep in the woods, he had nothing but pure intentions. He didn’t know you were beautiful, he didn’t know how soft and sweet you were, didn’t know how radiant you were in body and soul. He didn’t know he’d grow to love you, nor could he have predicted how badly he’d want you as his infatuation for you grew. 
Little does he know that you always wanted him just as bad, your late night thoughts always consumed by him. None of the village men ever made you feel the way Changbin does, never made your heart race or stomach erupt in butterflies, never filled you with such insatiable need for touch. 
“Ahh, I-” he exhales, trying to discreetly wipe away the sweat accumulating in his palms due to his nerves, “I.. yes, please, I’d like it.” Even just the thought of you touching his cock makes him feel like his heart is going to leap out of his chest– he has no idea how he’ll feel when you actually do it. Still, he wants it; and he watches you, unconsciously holding his breath as he waits for you to act.
He’s leaking so much, and it occurs to you that your dress will get very wet and messy if you leave it on while you touch him. The thought of being naked in front of Changbin makes you nervous, but also excites you somehow; and technically speaking, he’s always naked in front of you– apart from the cape he wears during the day, anyways. So there’s no reason to be so shy about it, right?
You gaze up at him, still timid despite the pep talk you’re giving yourself internally, and you reach behind your back to untie the ribbons that keep your silk gown on your body. You can hear Changbin’s breath hitch as the fabric loosens and begins to fall away, your bare torso becoming visible to his eyes for the first time. 
Your breasts were so pretty, so full– and yet even then, they’d surely look small in his large hands. Still, you weren’t done revealing yourself to him just yet; reaching lower down your back, you loosen another ribbon– the one keeping it held around your waist. Your gown falls down your hips and to the floor once untied, now left only in your panties before his eyes. 
Fuck, he wants to touch you– but you asked him first, and he’s not going to interrupt whatever you have planned for him. You step closer to him, and climb up his leg to sit yourself on one of his large thighs. He can’t help but gasp when you bring your hands to his cock, and just as you thought it’d be from seeing it, it’s heavy.
It’s much too thick to wrap your fingers around, your hands appearing impossibly small in comparison. You rub your hands over his sensitive tip, glancing up at Changbin’s face when he lets out a whine. Your hands quickly become slick from the steadily leaking pre-cum, gliding easily up and down the length of his cock. There’s not as much friction as there’d be if it was Changbin’s own hand, but he prefers this despite it– having you touch him is much, much better.
He moans when you lean forward to kiss and lick the tip, his pre-cum smearing over your lips and cheeks. He fists the blankets below him, his breaths growing harsher as he watches you work him up. Your hands stroke his length in a steady rhythm while you continue to lavish his tip with attention using your mouth, and he can’t help the frequency of his whines and moans.
He already feels so close– you're so soft, so wet, it drives him crazy. When you stop kissing and licking his cock, you sit up to look back up at him, and God, the sight of you– you’re glistening with his pre-cum and your own saliva. It’s dripped down your chin, falling to your breasts and the sight proves too much for him– he whimpers, stuttering out your name as his cock twitches and spurts of thick cum begin to shoot from the tip.
You make a noise of surprise, watching in awe as it coats your bodies; his stomach, your whole torso, your hands– you wouldn’t be surprised if some ended up on the blankets beneath him too. Your stomach flips when he finally comes down from his high and looks at you. Reddened cheeks, flushed body, harsh breaths– and yet he still gazes at you hungrily.
“Your turn,” he breathes as he effortlessly scoops you into his hands, paying no mind to the mess that covers you. His carnal desire for you is fraying at him, his shyness becoming increasingly eclipsed by his need. “Can I-” he starts, lifting you up towards his face, “Is it okay? Can I do the same for you? Please?”
He’s sure you can feel how much his hands are trembling for you– he hasn’t even seen between your legs yet, hasn’t yet tasted you, but his mind already feels like it’s in a frenzy. “Yes, please,” you tell him with a nod, and he brings you closer, responding with an appreciative, hungry kiss. He licks away the mess left there, then swipes his tongue over your torso, not at all minding the taste of his own cum.
You squirm in his hands, and when he’s done, he gently nudges you with his nose, urging you to lay back. Your back meets his fingers, your butt cradled in his palms while your legs dangle over his wrists. “Can you take them off like this?” he asks, and you nod, letting out a nervous exhale as you bring your hands to your sides, and hook the hem of your panties in your fingers.
You know Changbin would never drop you or let you fall, but you’re still careful not to make big movements as you slide them down your thighs, and then lift your legs to pull them off. You toss them aside, and shyly spread your legs open for him to look at your dripping pussy. You smell so sweet– he imagines that you’ll taste even sweeter. 
You shiver when he starts by placing kisses between your thighs, your legs spreading further apart to accommodate him. He sticks out his tongue, and the whine you let you when he licks between your folds is intoxicating. His tongue is too big to focus only on your clit, but the sensation of him licking up and down is still utterly delicious.
He moans and hums as he devours you, and the vibration of it makes you tremble. You let out a loud whimper and your eyes roll back when he dips his tongue carefully into your hole. It reaches deeper than your fingers ever could, feels so much better than them too– you never imagined something could feel this good. 
Your nails dig into his palms, but Changbin pays no mind to it, continuing to alternate between dipping his tongue into your hole and licking you up from top to bottom. He can feel your body tensing, the shaking of your legs and twitching of your thighs growing more intense as he drives you closer to release. 
You cry his name over and over, the syllables broken between whimpers as your back arches and your cum gushes on to his tongue. He licks it up and swallows it eagerly, and it serves to effectively draw out your orgasm, the sounds you make easily the prettiest he’s ever heard. 
You collapse back against his fingers when your high ebbs away, and you feel positively euphoric, every inch of your body buzzing from the pleasure. Changbin waits until you catch your breath again to kiss you, and you bring your hands to his face, holding him close as he shares the taste of your release with you. 
He carefully adjusts his hold of you afterwards, cradling you in his arms and laying you against his chest as he rises from his floor bed. “Need to take a bath,” he mumbles to you as you instinctively curl into his embrace. He cringes when he thinks about how much effort it’ll take to clean the mess from his fur and sheath, but he wouldn’t have done anything differently; the night was perfect– you were perfect.
You’re exhausted, but you do your best to help him get clean once you’re done washing yourself, and he covers you with appreciative kisses when the task is done. You giggle from the attention, and Changbin giggles too before he scoops you back into his arms to carry you to bed.
Doing away with the soiled blankets he’ll leave to clean tomorrow, he replaces them with some from the many empty rooms littered about. You’d fallen asleep shortly exiting the bath, and it was a bit challenging for Changbin to fix the bed one handed, but he wasn’t going to set you down onto the cold floor– and you surely would’ve pouted if you woke up without him in reach. 
He heaves a heavy sigh once he finally lays down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he rests his own against the many pillows beneath him. He whispers that he loves you before he closes his eyes, and he guesses you were just awake enough to hear it, because you sleepily whisper it back. 
It makes him smile, and he squeezes you in his arms just a little. And as he drifts to sleep, he thinks about how lucky he is to have you, how wonderful it is to be loved, how happy he’ll be spending every moment in his life together with you.
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network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet
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chilschuck · 9 months ago
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— ONLY IF YOU’D LIKE ME TO:
(I COULD FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU.) ♡ chilchuck x gn!reader.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ sfw, ment. of n//edles (the sewing kind, lol).
꒰ wc: ꒱ 809 words. just a drabble!
꒰ note: ꒱ guys i can’t stop thinking about this repressed-emotions-having-ass man. i wanted to write something with the song “clusterhug” by iDKHOW as inspo. i don’t know if i like this or not, so maybe i’ll delete it later. i took inspiration from the mimic chapter in the manga. sorry if it’s a bit ooc, i just kinda let my heart go with this one. i hope you enjoy!
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Little things lead up to big ones. In other words, small acts of kindness become forces to be reckoned with. There’s only so much someone can do to brace themselves for the impact of falling in love, which Chilchuck had learned the hard way. His efforts to keep work and private life separate were not enough. Despite his measures at bracing himself, the problem seemed to somehow build itself into something he just couldn’t fight; something he knows he’s not skilled at.
Your touch, so gentle when handling his wounds compared to others, was the first hit to his willpower. Chilchuck was used to leading and making sure others were safe in their steps, but even then he felt he couldn’t hold a candle to you. If there’s one thing you did for the party that he considered your skill, it was being a source of light. A source of delicate touches in which he had forgotten he craved.
Chilchuck believes he could blame this all on that single encounter with that mimic. You had beat Marcille to him, immediately dropping to your knees and making sure he was safe. The cut on his cheek was handled easily with delicate touches and small tuts under your breath. “I’m sorry,” he heard you murmur. “Someone should’ve gone with you.” The cloth in your hand did not bring as much relief to his wounds as your presence seemed to.
Later, he had tried to distract himself by mending his clothes, stitching the rifts in the fabric with precise hands. It was best to stay focused and squander any emotions he considered useless. The greater the attempt, though, the harder it came back to bite him in the ass. This was only one of many things he had to learn the hard way.
“Your stitches are really neat,” You had commented in that gentle voice of yours, the same pitch you always spoke in. It wasn’t syrupy sweet, but delicate in ways he couldn’t understand. It wrapped around his brain and inched into his chest. “It’s entrancing to watch you work.”
I could say the same about you, he could say. He pictured your bashful smile. Chilchuck reminded himself to breathe. You’re entrancing in ways I can’t explain.
There was something about your gaze that made him feel like the room rose in temperature. Rolling his shoulders, he flicked his eyes up to yours.
“Just something I had to learn.”
Just like the fact that you were winding your way around his heart. Could he even begin to comprehend what you were doing to him, what you were making him feel? The depth at which you were breaking his walls down scared him. Even the thought that maybe, just maybe, you reserved those sweet looks just for him sent him over the edge.
“You should teach me one day.” You whispered.
Only if you’d like me too. He could mumble back instantly. You waited patiently, smiling at him. He swallowed.
“Yeah, sure. Here.”
His fingers brushed against yours, the green fabric resting in your hands. Chilchuck held the needle, watching the thread cascade before setting it into your palm.
“I can teach you.”
Gods, don’t look at him like that. Don’t ever beam like that, not when he’s so close and looking over your shoulder as you thread the needle.
“There, now pull it through. Make sure the stitch isn’t loose.” You did as he asked, waiting for his next instruction. When you lit up at the progress, the rip shrinking in the scarf, he couldn’t help but smile.
Maybe while you’re at it, you could stitch up the rifts in his heart he let grow. He knew if anyone could, it’d be you. But before he knew it, you had repaired the hole, holding it up proudly.
“Thank you, Chilchuck! Now I can help next time, too.” You folded it, placing it into his hands. He felt his ears burn. There was something about how thankful you were to everyone, him included. Another shot to his willpower. It’s not like he really even did anything… It’s something anyone could learn.
Even then, as your attention was called upon by Marcille, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Gaze locked on the fabric in his hands, he let himself get lost in thought while you watched Senshi and Laios prepare the next meal. If you kept shining so bright like that, he’d have no choice but to fall in love with you. There’s only so much kindness he could handle from you. You were giving him no choice but to swallow his pride and reconsider everything he knew about living a double life like this. Could he really make you happy?
Only if you’d like him to, he let his heart say. Whether or not he would listen is for time to tell. He could fall in love with you.
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