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astraystayyh · 3 months

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pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.

He’s beautiful.

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.

“Touché.”

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?”

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.

One hour later

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

“You made them?”

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.

ii.

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose.

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?

Your facade cracks. His voice wins.

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.

One week later.

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.

“Will she be okay?”

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”

“Can I read what you wrote?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?”

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing.

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.

You wished to be the only one Chris liked.

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.

iv.

You’re avoiding him.

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”

“Okay!”

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.

“What happened to connected Chris?”

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.

you win.

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later).

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.

It's her first time calling you mom.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

#skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions #skz angst #skz fanfic #chan fluff #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz au

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erwinsvow · 2 months

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An idea popped into my head that I feel you would write very well!

Rafe x virgin!reader. They are having a pretty heavy make out sesh, he slips his hand into her pants and then she just blurts it out? Like, "I'm a virgin," and she's like terrified. But rafe doesn't mind at all.

(also, is the 🪩 taken.)

oh my goodness!! I’m obsessed with this. no it is not taken omg welcome to the club!!!!!!!!!! ty so much for requesting 😚😚😚😚

your night with rafe had gone as perfect as any night could have, dinner by the beach, watching the sun go down while you ate dessert, and then heading back to tannyhill with him for the night, like you always did.

your nights with rafe always ended the same day, crawling into bed wearing one of his big shirts and then making out until you were soaking through your panties and rafe was hard beneath you. you're sure that rafe might have guessed you're a virgin by now, from the way everything he does is so new to your body, reacting primally to every touch. the two of you fall asleep like that, and you feel tingly from your head to your toes, waiting for rafe to say something about going further.

you're sure he would. there's no doubt in your mind that he's ready to, and he's probably done this with a million girls before you-a thought that makes you want to cry, but you put that aside. you're rafe's now, and you know that giving him your virginity is part of the deal. you're not sure just when that'll be, since he has you in your panties nearly every night.

maybe it'd be tonight. when the two of you get back to his room, you head for his dresser immediately to pull out a shirt, but rafe pushes you against the door. he leans down into a deep kiss, and you let it progress, hands snaking into his hair while he holds your waist tightly, his own hands running up and down the soft material of your sundress.

it's a little uncomfortable against the door like this, but rafe eases you up immediately, your legs wrapping around him while he pins you in place. you don't mean to start moving your hips, grinding down against him, it's just instinct, chasing that toe-curling feeling that you haven't been able to feel with rafe yet. his hands snake further down to the hem of your dress, and then slide underneath the material to the smooth skin of your legs.

rafe's hands keep traveling, gripping your thighs while he keeps you locked in a kiss that has you feeling dizzy, would have your knees weak if he wasn't holding you up. his tongue pokes into your mouth, and you moan around it, not even wanting to pull away to breathe.

you have to, though. rafe's hands are at the waistband of your panties, and just as he starts to grope, finding where he can yank them down so he can finally do what he wants to you, you pull away, hands resting flat on his chest.

he likes you like this--hair disheveled, lips red and swollen, the strap of your dress hanging off your shoulder. he leans in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and then your collar, then up your neck.

"rafe," you whine, but it's easy to let him keep going. "we should stop-"

his eyes dart up to meet yours, pulling his face away from your neck.

"why would i do that, hm?" he kisses you again, but you turn your head away. "finally got you where i want you."

"i-well, i'm a virgin, rafe." it falls out of your mouth, even though you've spent countless hours thinking about the best way to tell him. you've thought everything through, how to say it, how to reply based on his response, how to deal with the embarrassment you're sure to feel.

"yeah?" he questions, pulling away to look at you in the eyes. still pushed against the wall, you can feel his hard dick pressed against you. the two of you don't move an inch, besides for the nodding of your head to answer his question.

"so, no one else has ever touched you where m'touching you?"

you shake your head.

"and no one's ever seen you like this?"

you shake again, feeling your eyes get watery.

"i'm sorry-"

"why're you saying sorry? told you to stop doin' that."

"because... because it's embarrassing."

"says who? hm?"

"says everyone. right?"

"no, kid. not me. you want me to stop?" your body melts into his grip. you shake your head again. "good girl. c'mon, get on the bed. not taking your virginity against this door."

#THIS WAS SOO FUN!!! <333 #pls come again!!!! lmk if you liked it???#📮 asks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #🪩 anon

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celestialprincesse · 26 days

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Giggly, fluffy, post deployment sex w/ Simon 🥴🫶 I don't know what possessed me to write this, but it's here I guess

like baaaaarely nsfw but still, mdni💕

"S' - Got the - zoomies." You pant, giggling breathlessly as Simon stills from where he'd been plunging into you, a confused brow raised, prompting you to explain yourself as you lay laughing beneath his massive torso.

"The fuck is a zoomie? S'that like a drug or some shite? Are you on drugs?" Suddenly he's massively concerned, always so worried about everything that could possibly harm you in any way. It also doesn't help that his phone is some ancient brick that's survived countless falls, literal gunfights, and his day-to-day life, which is a miracle in itself.

The perplexed look on his face only serves to make you laugh further, gripping your stomach as you wheeze incoherently, babbling about how he's so old, and that the stone age called. Meanwhile, he gives you a little slap on the ass, just to attempt to regain the reins on the situation and save himself the embarrassment.

"Zoomies are like - like cats!" You heave, still clutching your stomach, unable to stop the way you howl with laughter at your normally stoic boyfriend, blushing like an idiot, burying his face against your clavicle.

"I don't - I'm not going to ask." He sighs in faux disappointment, unable to hide the way his heart warms at seeing your bright smile, hearing you laugh after having been away for so long.

"M'kay." You agree, laugh dying down slightly, leaving you with a tummy ache. "Sorry, carry on."

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generalsmemories · 2 months

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sensitive

✧ sunday x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: the wings by his ears are far too sensitive for what you're both about to do to them.

✧ contents: just a lil scenario for the piercings on sunday's wings. and the hc (that has probs become every writers canon take) that his wings are oh so sensitive. established relationship, mildly suggestive cause why not, uhh, mentions of blood? sunday being utterly weak against his lover. ooc sunday cause goddamn i have NOTHING on this man.

✧ a/n: breathes in. listen i don't believe in any god but good lord i would start praying for this man if he asked me to.

jing yuan wips still in order, i just want to be on my best self mentally when writing for my eepy general so have this brainrot so i can function this week at my work and hopefully i'll write something more <3 thank you once again for your patience!

NOT BETA-READ THIS WAS WRITTEN WITHIN AN HOUR CAUSE THIS BRAINROT HAS BEEN BREWING INSIDE THE MIND FOR A MONTH, IM SORRY FOR THE ALL OVER THE PLACE WORDS - I HAVEN'T WRITTEN SINCE THE LAST JING YUAN ANGST PIECE.

Your fingertips have barely grazed the very edges of the feathers when the distinguished leader beneath you flinches in surprise. The fingers that grip your hips tightening further which causes your body that was previously hovering above him to settle down on Sunday's leg. You can hear a tiny sigh leaving his lips before you feel his head rest against your shoulder, the action causing you to chuckle.

"The longer you delay this, the more nervous you'll get, you know?" you muse, threading your fingers through his hair in an effort to coax him to lay back in the same position he previously was in. You're barely able to touch his right wing again before a gloved hand shoots up from his side and you feel a sharp nip at your neck in warning - causing you to immediately halt all of your actions.

"It would've gone a lot faster have you decided to not do it in such an orthodox method, dear." Sunday retaliates with a sigh, pecking the bite mark as some sort of apology, an apology that you knew was not sincere in the slightest.

You giggle once again, settling down comfortably on his legs whilst slightly leaning back to fully look at your lover. Your arms loop over his neck while cocking your head to the side in slight confusion, although said confusion doesn't reach your mischievous eyes or the huge grin on your face. "Why I thought this would help calm you? It was your idea to pierce these wings of yours after all," you remind him, tapping the piercing gun that you're currently holding onto on his shoulder.

The man before you sighs, seemingly in exasperation over your usual antics whilst shrugging away the piercing gun that you're continuously tapping him with. You can however clearly see the slight reddening on top of his ears, while his wings tuck a bit behind his ears - clearly a signal that he's feeling a bit embarrassed.

"You're well aware of the effect you have on me, my love." he admits, the hand on your hip moving from its spot to instead rest against your neck. "Hmm? Then I suggest that you hurry along to let me pierce your wings before said effect makes you lose your patience," you tease with a quiet laugh. "I do have a lot of experience with this lil' gun of ours after all." you cheekily say - causing Sunday to direct his gaze towards your own ears, which have a few more piercings than your average person.

"... I'm well aware." Sunday replies.

Well aware of how sensitive your own ears are, almost as sensitive as his own wings that have yet to be pierced. He could let out a breath beside them which causes you to tremble, a small peck would make you gasp softly, but if he were to use his tongue-

"You're thinking of inappropriate things again, dear." you mutter into his ears before unlooping your arms from his neck to rest against your sides, your whole weight supported by the singular hand Sunday has on your hip.

"Hardly."

For someone not of Halovian descent, you're somehow able to discern his thoughts immediately - quite a hassle to be honst.

"Well then, my dear? Why don't you relax so we can get this over with so you can return to your duties?" you whisper, moving your body to sit between his legs so that you can get a closer look on his right wing, where he preferred the piercing to be on.

"... Just- don't say anything when you're about to do- Ah!"

The single clicking noise of the needle piercing his wing before retracting back to it's original spot makes Sunday jolt in surprise, the grip on your hip increasing in pressure, but you're too busy looking at the placement in glee to care for your distraught lover right now.

You notice the edges of the piercing reddening a bit, extending your finger to gather the tiny bits of blood that had escaped from the wound. Glancing at Sunday, you notice his slightly glossy eyes that immediately diverts from your gaze.

The quiet laugh you let out makes Sunday glare at you, but his eyes widen slightly when you lick his blood away from your fingertips with closed eyes. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" you ask, opening your eyes again to lock eyes with Sunday, diverting your gaze slightly to his right wing.

You decide not to comment on his glossy eyes, deciding to instead scoot closer to peck the corner of his eyes, "Sorry that I surprised you, but as you said - Doing it this way is far more convenient for the both of us," you explain, lips pressing against Sunday's to coax him into relaxation.

"Mhm, thank you for indulging me, dove." he whispers, arms wrapping around your waist, the tension in his shoulders finally leaving.

"Although..." you murmur in between various pecks against Sunday's lips, your lover raising an eyebrow up in confusion and imploring you to continue speaking.

"I think you said you would go for 2 of the same piercings if the first one looked nice, no?" you say before pressing your lips against his once again. Sunday was barely able to understand the meaning behind your words before he could feel the same pain of the needle shoot through his already overly-sensitive wing.

The loud gasp he lets out is swallowed by your lips, his open mouth letting your tongue slip inside while the piercing gun in your hand slips away from your lips now that you've done your part of the deal. Your hands settle themselves against Sunday's cheeks now- wiping away the few tears that have now slipped down from his glossy eyes with your thumb.

There's a certain desperation in Sunday's hands by your waist. He had first bunched the material of your clothes upwards by surprise, but now he's slipping his gloved hands beneath them and quickly traveling further up - he moves in a way that you don't know if he's trying to push you away to scold you, or press you closer to him to feel your warmth.

He eventually decides to push you away. His cheeks are reddened and he's heaving for breaths while he's glaring down at you in mild disappointment and a hint of excitement - and yet the hands that's dragging the buttons of your shirt from inside to snap them open tells another desire from the esteemed leader of Penacony.

The same mischievous smile is present on your lips when you part ways, your lips are a bit swollen but it doesn't stop their journey from grazing against his now incredibly sensitive right wing, the jerk of his entire body not bothering you in the slightest as your lips glide over his feathers, your lover shuddering a bit when you let out a breath right over his newly pierced wings.

"All done now, my love," you mutter into his ear, shrugging off your now ruined shirt off of one shoulder, "Do I get any reward for doing this so smoothly and quickly?"

Sunday lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your triumphant expression before shoving you down onto the couch the two of you were previously resting on. "I'm thinking a punishment is more fitting for how you didn't warn me of your actions twice, no?"

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #sunday x reader #sunday honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail x you

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atskiruma · 1 year

Text

his reaction to your pajamas

expl: they pay your house a visit and see you in your pajamas, flustered by the exposed skin when they're so used to seeing you in your regular outfit

a/n: back

second person writing no pronouns used

Diluc didn't often pay your home a visit because he never had a reason to do so. You were always on time to the tavern, so today, when you had shown up late he decided he'd pay a visit just to make sure you were alright!

It wasn't often that he took this trip to the other side of the city of Mondstat. He only really saw these parts when he was doing his justice as the "Darknight Hero," but he knew you lived here when he had to drop you off after a couple too many drinks. Which was a shame because you also never remembered when you practically clung to him the whole way while flirting.

He took a couple steps towards your door and knocked 3 times. Standing in silence for a bit before hearing the sounds of some clattering objects in the house. Along with the sound of your voice cursing when something fell with it.

The door swung open and you appeared before it, disheveled, and looking like you just woke up. Your expression immediately turning flustered when you realized your boss was at your front door, and you were dressed in your pajamas.

Diluc's eyes flew to your appearance, especially the fact that the clothes you were wearing were very uneven, along with a lot of skin being shown. You seemed to notice his glance going down further and further, before raking back up to your eyes. Lifting the bottoms that were slowly falling down your hips, you sheepishly smiled before speaking,

"Diluc! Can I ask why you-" This was when your face dropped in immediate realization. Unfortunately, your brain chose at that moment to catch up with everything surrounding you. It was the afternoon, you just woke up, and it was Sunday. Wait? It's Sunday.

You jumped nearly 50 feet, scattering to explain with your hands in the air. "Oh my god! I am so sorry! I was out really late last night and I- God I'm so sorry! I will be down there in 5 minutes trust me I promise!"

Rushing back into your house, slamming the door and the sound of more clattering objects and your cursing reached Diluc's ears. He finally allowed his face to dust a shade of pink, pulling his hand over to his mouth and rubbing it in an embarrassing matter.

Xiao was the "Conquerer of Demons" he was vicious, strong, and scary. Xiao was the "Conquerer of Demons" but here he was, doing an errand. Ridiculous, an errand? All he was trying to do was make his way up to the top of the Wangshu Inn when Verr Goldet practically cornered him and asked him for a favor.

And how can Xiao say no? She gave him a place of safety and he would do anything to repay her for the kindness she's shown. Verr had asked him if he could deliver a package to a room closer to the top floor. He knew it was your room just by the number, often walking by and waiting a few seconds to hear any noises in there.

Xiao knocked on your door, silently hoping you wouldn't take your time getting to the door and this could end quickly. He waited a couple more seconds before hearing the sounds of you walking towards the door. The door opened slower than he thought it would and you came out looking like you had just woken up the minute he knocked.

Your pajamas were hanging loosely off you and Xiao's eyes wasted no time looking down at all the exposed skin that was showing. Your eyes squinted so much that you couldn't see the way his face lit up like a firework at the sight of you.

"Xiao? What're you doing here?" The voice you spoke with sounded groggy. Still unaware of The Conquerer of Demons losing it at your appearance. He said no word and quickly handed over the package, nearly making you lose your balance before disappearing away.

Scaramouche was not an observer, he didn't care what people were doing or what they looked like. All he was focused on was doing his own thing. Which was why it confused him to no end why Kusanali was managing to keep his attention right now.

At least, to Scaramouche. it was confusing, but the Dendro Archon knew what she needed to say in order to keep the wanderer's attention. Your name alone kept him focused on her words and she continued to manage to add you to the problem in order for him to find the solution.

"And that's why I think if we manage to get-"

The sound of a door slamming alerted both Kusanali and Scaramouche, along with the Traveler and Paimon across the room. Your flustered appearance entered the room, clearly out of breath from running all the way up here. Why did they put so many stairs leading up to the Sanctuary?

"Nahida. I am. So sorry. That I missed-" The sounds of your out-of-breath panting were in between every word you spoke, which eventually just led you to put your hands on your knees to catch it. You ran all the way up here as soon as you woke up, seeing the sunshine high in the sky and knowing you forgot to meet up with Nahida about the plan she had. Which led you to rush out in your pajamas, earning a few strange looks from passers-by on your way up.

"I had totally overslept and forgot about the plan..." Your words trailed off when you finally looked up and saw Scaramouche gleaming a bright red at your outfit. His eyes were anywhere but your own, examining your body like he was trying to engrave the image in front of him.

"Scaramouche? Are you okay?" Your voice finally reached his ears as he recollected himself from the shock, shooting his eyes back up to your own. The emotions that ran through were clear, confusion, embarrassment, and then finally anger. He shot up from his seat startling both Paimon and the Traveler, Nahida remaining unfazed.

"This is stupid! I'm out of here!" His voice trailed off as he stomped away from the scene. Knowing that when he was out of shot, another glance at your back would send him red-faced again.

Cyno found himself once again back in the desert visiting the Traveler and their flying white-haired companion in order to help with another quest. Back in the village of Aaru Village, the 3 traveled around asking about something the quest giver was looking for.

"And I told her there was no way I was falling for- Hey look, it's Candace!" Paimon exclaimed, pointing in the direction where the indigo-haired woman was walking. They managed to catch up with her after Paimon's screeching caught her attention.

She told them that she was going back to the main building where they had first gathered when the Traveler visited, saying she was finished running her errands and was returning back. Cyno nodded in silence while he let Paimon do most of the talking, letting his mind wander what you were up to right now.

The 3 entered the building and quickly helped Candace settle her bags onto the table. Paimon was just to go back to squeaking before Cadance quickly threw a finger over her mouth and pointed towards the couch in the corner.

There you slept, half off the couch with your pajamas nearly falling off your shoulder and hips. Cyno knew you were in the room since he entered, and didn't let his eyes leave your figure in the corner once. His face was blank, but anyone who knew him closer than others would know he was flustered by all means. Which meant Cadance's smile didn't leave her face either when she watched him move his eyes across your whole body.

"Cyno! Cyno!" Paimons voice returned to his consciousness and he quickly looked over at her, not before shooting an extra glance toward you again.

"We're leaving now? Are you gonna come with us?" She said, floating around in an impatient manner. He shook his head and spoke, "No, I have other matters I need to catch up with here as well. You can go on ahead."

The Traveler nodded before Paimon could complain and walked off back to where the original quester was waiting. Cyno turned back to you before realizing Cadance had left the room too.

You later woke up with the General Mahamatra's sleeping form in the chair near you, and a blanket covering your whole body.

alhaitham visited and cyno nearly broke his skull in when he saw his eyes shoot to your body

#xiao #cyno #diluc #scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #atskiruma #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #diluc x reader #cyno x reader #cyno imagines #xiao imagines #diluc imagines #scaramouche imagines

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bianquitasunderworld · 5 months

Note

could you write something where dave is obsessed with readers boobs please?

18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: 18+ English is not my first language! Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Switch Dave, Switch Reader/Dom Reader, Dave begs, Mommy kink, Female Penetration. (I think that’s it)

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

A/N: This man is such a LOSER and I love that. I got carried away with this one. I don’t proofread.

Dave’s obsession with boobs, especially your own is truly…questionable. We all know he’s got a thing for boobs I mean we all saw that one scene!

Dave struggles to voice his feelings, often too embarrassed to even speak about such things. He’s frequently averting his gaze, but his eyes involuntarily gravitate towards your chest. The ogling always intensifies when you choose to wear tank tops or choose to forgo a bra, leaving him subtly captivated.

On a particularly hot summer day, Dave had invited you to his home due to your apartment’s lack of electricity and air conditioning. You gladly accepted his offer immediately and chose to wear the most revealing outfit in your wardrobe to keep the heat from affecting you. The outfit was perfect; poor Dave couldn’t look away. He was hypnotized by the way your boobs looked, and his gaze seemed glued to them. Despite his efforts, he found himself entranced, unable to divert his attention.

You weren’t completely oblivious to your boyfriend’s wandering eyes. Of course you didn’t mind but you couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were playing inside his head. Filthy thoughts consumed your mind, the way Dave’s tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth and the way he licked his lips only made you more curious as to what scenarios he could possibly be playing out in his mind.

You wondered if he was thinking about sucking your tits as you ride him, or if he was thinking of you kneeling in front of him with his dick between your tits as he coats them with his come. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together in your seat as you bit your bottom lip, desperately trying to find some relief or pleasure. The thought alone is simply enough for you to get off on.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Dave’s hand and hear his soft voice. “W-what are ya thinking about?” He stutters, his voice laced with nervousness.

He watches and notices how you become fidgety when his hands caress your thigh. A sense of warmth comes over you at his soft touch. His featherlike touch further ignites the small flame that has been burning within you since you noticed his gaze.

your voice is soft as you trip over your words. “N-nothing. T-this is just a good movie, don’t you agree?” Your head nods towards Dave’s tv. Truthfully you couldn’t care less about whatever movie was on at the moment, and neither did Dave, all he could focus on was how thin your blouse was and how he could just barely see the outline of your boobs.

Dave nods even though he isn��t paying any attention to whatever the fuck was playing either, how could he when the most beautiful girl in the world was right in front of him with her boobs on full display! His heart was racing as he tries to calm down his arousal.

He can’t take it anymore, he decides to make a bold decision and just acts before thinking. If all failed he could just die of embarrassment and curl up into fetal position, right?

Dave slowly moves his soft hands up your torso tracing small random patterns against your skin. You shiver as you feel his cold hands make their way up and under your blouse.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't help myself..." He leans in closer, his breath tickling your neck as his fingers brush against your bare skin. His heart is pounding in his chest as he struggles with his desire for you.

“Davie-“ your voice is soft. Dave takes it as a good sign when you don’t immediately stop him and curse him out for being a pervert. You of course know what Dave wants and exactly what he’s up to, he plays this game far too often. Pretends to be shy, innocent, and soft then next thing you know you’re both naked as he’s deep inside you while his mouth is wrapped around your boob or his hand is down your shorts while he suck on your boob, regardless of what happens mark my words, some part of him will be touching your chest.

"I'm-I’m sorry, I can't help myself," Dave confesses, his lips moving against your neck, his hands gently squeezing your soft breasts through your thin blouse. "You're so irresistible." His voice is soft and whiny.

His hand trails across your cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps along your skin. “Y-you’re going to love it. I promise, alright?”

His hands slide down to unbutton your blouse, revealing your bare skin underneath. He leans in to lay a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your collarbone as his fingers skim across your chest.

You nod hesitantly as his hands focus on unbuttoning your blouse, once it’s finally off and your breasts are revealed to him, he can’t help but let out a small whimper. Dave can’t help it, when he sees your bare chest he swears he’s in heaven.

Dave's hands tremble as they slide up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. He leans in closer, his warm breath fanning across your skin. "They're perfect," he murmurs, his voice barely audible even to himself.

You hesitate to speak, stuttering at every word that leaves your lips. “T-Thank yo-u Davie.” The heat between your thighs is becoming so unbearable.

“I w-wanna taste you mommy” Dave murmurs, his voice rough with need. His hands slip inside your panties, his fingers finding the dampness between your legs. Dave’s mouth wraps around your nipple, flicking at it and sucking at it as his hands explore your panties, feeling how wet you’ve become just for him, because of him.

The only sounds that can be heard throughout Dave’s household is the sound of your moans and whimpers as his hand plays with your wet pussy. You buck your hips agaisnt his hand as his fingers rub your clit. "Dave... I'm close," you gasp out, your body arching into his touch. "Don't stop oh my god baby!" The feel of his fingers inside you, combined with his mouth on your breast, sends waves of pleasure coursing through your entire being.

You pant his name, your body trembling with need. The sensations are overwhelming, but in the best way imaginable as his fingers continue to tease you.

F-fuck, yeah, baby," Dave gasps out, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to feel you come around my fingers, come on pretty girl. Let me feel you come around my hand." His fingers move faster, curling deeper inside you as he searches for that one perfect spot to send you over the edge.

Your eyes shut tight and your nails dig into his shoulder as you feel your climax approaching, you cry out his name and beg for him to let you come.

“Fuck, yes," Dave moans, his hips bucking against your leg as he whispers in your ear."Let go, baby. Let me see you come apart for me."

"Come for me, baby. Let go," Dave urges in a husky whimper. "I want to feel you baby.." His fingers curl and stretch, finding just the right spot, the perfect rhythm.

Dave’s eyes watch your every move and reaction as he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers, his eyes light up as he hears you moan and watches you buck your hips uncontrollably agaisnt his hand. Broken cry’s of pleasure leave your mouth as you come apart around his fingers.

Dave watches you fall apart under his touch. He groans, his hips bucking up against your side , seeking more contact as he feels you shatter around his fingers. “Such a good girl, so fucking tight.” he breathes, his voice thick with lust and pride.

A small gasp leaves your lips as you feel empty when he pulls his fingers from your pussy and brings them to his mouth. You watch and bite your lip as with a slow, deliberate motion, he tastes you, savoring your sweetness.

“You taste amazing," Dave murmurs, his eyes locked on yours."Mmm," Dave hums, his eyes closing in pleasure as he tastes you. "You're so fucking addictive," he whispers, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

Feeling your body pressing against his, Dave groans into the kiss, his cock twitching against the rough fabric of his jeans. His cock is begging for a release. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he looks into your eyes. "You're killing me," he mutters, his voice rough with lust.

Your eyes slowly wander down to the bulge in his jeans, you lick your lips at the sight admiring the imprint of his cock against his jeans. “Is this all for me Davie? You’re this worked up over watching me come and playing my tits?” Your words are filthy and condescending, something Dave catches on to quickly.

“Y-you turned me on so much just by letting me play with your pretty pussy.” He whimpers "I need you right now." He tugs on your hand gently, guiding it to his erection. “I want to feel you wrapped around me so bad." Dave’s voice comes out as a whimper as he begs for you. He’s become desperate and grinds against your palm.

“Please, baby." He whines, his hips undulating against your hand. "I need you so fucking bad." His eyes bore into yours, full of desire and need.

Your eyes admire him as he begs desperately for you, your body is begging for him but the desire to make him beg for your body overpowered your need to please him, to have him inside of you.

Whimpering, Dave presses his hips into your hand. "Please, mommy, please. I need to be inside you.." His voice is raw with need and desire. He leans in, pressing his lips against your neck.

Your resolve slowly fades and you feel yourself giving into him. His desire and desperation turns you on more than anything. Watching him fall apart simply because he needs to be inside you is the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.

You give him a small nod and watch as he quickly moves to unzip and take off his pants and quickly drops his boxers to floor, kicking both items of clothing off and moving back to sit near you looking at you intently. You slowly bring your palm to his cock and wrap your hand around it. Admiring his manhood. His cock twitches in anticipation, leaking pre-cum onto your hand.

Your eyes sparkle in admiration as you watch Dave’s face contor into one of pleasure. A deep moan escapes from his throat as he jerks his hips forward, pushing his cock deeper into your hand.

“What do you need baby?” You tease him, watching closely as his glasses fall askew. “I need you to take me inside that tight little pussy of yours, mommy." Dave's voice is ragged.

You tsk at him in disapproval. “Oh such nasty words coming from such a pretty boy, what a shame.”

His cock jerks in your hand, a testament to his arousal. Your hand slows around him, teasing him. “I'm sorry, mommy," Dave pants, his hips jerking involuntarily. "I can't help it. I need you." His cock throbs in your hand

“Oh that’s much better, good boy.” You praise.

“T-Thank you mommy.” As if responding to your approval, Dave's cock twitches again, this time more forcefully. He arches his back, offering you better access to his sensitive tip. "Please, mommy," he whispers. "I need you to ride me.."

You coo at him and slowly remove your hand that’s wrapped around his shaft. “I know baby, you’re just so pretty when you beg. Mommy’s gonna give you what you want baby”

Dave's breath hitches when you remove your hand from his cock. His head rolls back in anticipation, his eyes closed tightly. "Oh, god..mommy," he moans, his voice shaky with desire.

His eyes flutter open, he watches you through the lenses of his glasses. “Thank you, mommy," Dave breathes out, his body trembling with anticipation. As you pull back, he reaches out, tracing the curve of your breast with his fingers. "You're so beautiful."

His words send a shiver throughout your body, his compliment bring out a small smile from you.

“Thank you Davie” You kiss his lips softly then pull away as you straddle his hips. Your entrance hovering right over his thick length, his hands slowly make their way to hold your hips.

Dave watches as you position yourself above him, his heart racing in anticipation. "Mommy," he moans, his hips pushing up against you. His cockhead brushes against your entrance.

His cock twitches against your sensitive folds, begging for entrance. "Please, mommy." You slowly lover yourself down on him, your mouth falls open as you gasp and your eyes shut as you feel his large cock slowly stretch you open around him. “Oh Davie-“ You steady yourself against him.

A soft moan escapes Dave as you lower yourself onto him, feeling you stretch around him. He grips your hips tightly, guiding you slowly down his length. "Oh fuck, mommy," he whispers.

“You’re so big Davie” You cry out as you lower yourself down on him, feeling him inside you. Dave pants, his voice thick with lust and need. He thrusts upwards gently, meeting your downward motion, their hips slapping together in a rhythmic dance of desire.

his cock throbs inside you. His hands slide up to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples, his hands hold your breasts tenderly. His hips buck slightly, pushing further into the tight embrace of your warmth. You whimper when he’s fully inside you, his throbbing cock fills your body and your brain feels empty, your only thought is him and how good he’s making you feel. You slowly grind your hips down agaisnt his own.

“Fuck, yes," Dave groans, feeling you move against him. His own hips buck up, meeting your grind with enthusiasm. He bites his lower lip, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of being inside you. "So fucking tight," he pants.

You groan as you feel him thrust up into your pussy, the sounds of skin slapping filling the room. “You feel so good baby-Oh fuck!” Every sound and noise that is being made is borderline filthy, every moan and whimper sounds almost pornographic.

Dave cries out, his hips bucking wildly as he takes you with force. His cock pistons in and out of you, driving you both towards the brink of ecstasy. Your tits bounce at his hard thrust, your moans and cries come out broken, due to the overwhelming sense of pleasure that’s he’s giving to you.

Daves hands roamover your body again, finding your nipples. He pinches and rolls them between his fingers, using them to his advantage as he continues to fuck you senseless. Dave’s hands wander back down towards your hips, his hands wander lower and grope your ass. he leans forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Dave’s glasses are foggy and crooked, barely on the tip of his nose.

You whimper and reach your hand towards his face gently taking them off and tossing them to the side of the couch. His tongue circles around your nipple, tugging gently at the sensitive flesh, his face somehow burrowing further against your tit. Feeling the warmth of your ass against his hands, the taste of your nipple in his mouth, and the tightness surrounding his cock, Dave can't hold back any longer. His hips buck up fiercely.

You moan and your eyes roll back as you feel your climax approaching “I’m gonna fucking come!” You groan. “Come for me baby, fuck-Oh Dave-“

Dave’s groans are muffled as he sucks on your tit, his feels his own orgasm taking over. He thrusts up into you, his cock pulsing as he releases his seed deep inside you. His hips buck wildly, his hands gripping your hips tightly. His hip shudder as he thrust up into you, emptying himself inside you. He pulls his mouth off and away from your tit and just rests his head against your chest.

As the wave of pleasure subsides, leaving both of you panting heavily, Dave remains connected to you, his cock still buried deep inside. He kisses your chest tenderly, his ear still pressed against your racing heartbeat.

#dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski x reader #aaron taylor johnson smut #kick ass fanfic #kick ass x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj x reader #atj #kick ass #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski fic #dave lizewski fanfic #dave lizewski imagine #dave

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misshoneyimhome · 4 months

Note

Can i please ask a small scenario of luke hughes finishing first and he is so embarrassed and cute and hides his face in readers face and neck. Reader is so calm and sweet to him. Thanks love 🥰

Okay okay, so this was very brief! And also my first time writing about Luke Hughes... and I know I said no players born after 2001, but what can I say, I do like a challenge 🙈 Though I do feel like I violated him...

Hope it's alright love 😉🤍

Warnings; 18+ smut; protected sex (p in v);

Word count; 1.5K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Practice makes perfect | Luke Hughes 🖋️⚡️

"What a game, huh?" you exclaimed with excitement as you greeted Luke, who was coming out of the locker room after the New Jersey game against the Blackhawks.

"It was alright," the young defensemen simply smiled in response.

"Alright? Luke, you played amazingly tonight," you embraced him in a hug, smiling up at your tall boyfriend, feeling he deserved more praise.

"Thanks," he flashed you a sweet, humble smile, wrapping his long arms around your body. Tucking you into him before letting you go and admiring your beautiful face. "So, what's the plan now?"

You could sense a slight hint of nervousness in his question, considering that you and Luke had only recently started seeing each other.

You had gotten to know him platonically during the summer, and as the regular season progressed, you slowly grew closer. However, your relationship was still fairly new.

"Coming over to your place?" you timidly suggested in a sweet voice, and Luke couldn’t help but return your joy. You always had a way of making him weak in the knees, from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, where he mentally had to kick himself multiple times for taking so long to ask you out.

"Definitely!"

And there you were, entwined on his sofa, celebrating the night's victory, with his 6'2" frame leaning over you. Your fingers intertwined in his brown curls as his lips caressed yours, his tongue gently seeking entrance, meeting yours with hunger.

The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm ambiance. The celebration continued with the faint sound of the TV playing highlights of the game in the background. The scent of victory lingered in the air, mixed with the comforting aroma of the takeout you both had enjoyed earlier.

"Easy, Luke," you chuckled lightly into the kiss, feeling his desire growing, along with impatience and almost neediness. "Slow down, we've got time."

"Sorry, babe," he breathed out with a light smile. "I'm just so..."

"Turned on?" you asked, your eyes glancing downwards to his very hard member, concealed in his sweats.

"Yeah," he softly admitted before once again pressing his mouth onto yours. Although he did try to slow down a little, it was rather difficult for him.

You were one of the most gorgeous and sweet girls he'd ever met. His hockey career always making it difficult to date like a regular teenager, and as a young adult having to take life seriously now, it hadn't gotten any easier.

But then you came around. And though he wasn't exactly a virgin when the two of you met, he might still have been on the less experienced side. Again, his hard work to reach the same level of career as his brothers had limited his social life. Which also meant his intimate time with girls.

And as you felt his rather sizeable length, firm against your inner thigh, you knew he was too worked up to slow down any further.

"Bedroom, Luke..." you breathed in between his sloppy kisses, and before long, he guided you to his room, where he swiftly pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his toned hockey torso, while you discarded your own blouse. Trousers went next, and not many seconds passed before you were back in the same position, your legs on each side of Luke as he hovered over you, lips connected, bodies growing warmer with every touch, creating friction, and sweat.

Yet, despite his deep need to feel himself reaching the much-anticipated climax, Luke was still trying his best to focus on you.

So, as you shared the passionate kiss, his fingers found the edge of your knickers, gently sneaking a finger inside as he located your entrance, poking and teasing before sliding it in.

Soft moans escaped your lips as you felt the pleasure he was causing, and you slowly developed an impatient need for more, which was given to you with a second finger.

And as Luke skilfully fingered you, something he'd, of course, learned from his older brothers, he too felt the impending surge of pleasure within him. The room filled with the heady mix of desire and intimacy, creating a space where time seemed to stand still, solely dedicated to the symphony of your shared sensations.

His cock was already dripping with pre-cum, creating a small damp patch in his boxers as he felt it throbbing, almost pulsating, craving to be touched.

"Yes, Luke," you moaned softly as you felt his fingers massaging your walls.

But with every pump, he felt himself in more need to feel those walls around his length instead. So, as impatience took over, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling a void as he shifted his position, pulled off his boxers, and then returned to tuck down your underwear.

His facial expression was so serious, much like when he was playing hockey - focused and determined. Yet, this time, he also seemed desperate to be touched and in need to reach his peak.

Reaching over to the nightstand where Jack had been kind enough to place a few condoms as a joke, he took out the little packaging. However, as he seemed to fumble with it, you offered him a helping hand.

"Here, let me," you smiled up at him as you took out the latex and gently wrapped his length, causing little squirms from the boy above you, as your touch made him feel the sense of pleasure he was craving.

And then swiftly, he returned to missionary once more and let the tip of his member gently touch and tease your tight entrance.

"Slowly, love," you tried with a soft whisper. However, as Luke eased himself into your depth, your whisper quickly turned into a moan instead, feeling his long shaft filling your warmth.

"Shit..." he breathed out, slowly beginning to rock his hips, letting his cock glide in and out of you as he stimulated your walls. The room echoed with the sounds of your shared passion, a harmony of gasps, moans, and the rhythmic dance of bodies entwined in the heat of the moment. The intensity grew, the connection deepening with every thrust, creating a heated atmosphere.

"That's it, Luke..." you moaned in between breaths as he found a solid pace, thrusting and hitting the very end of your depth. Your hands finding his locks that you could pull on as you felt the building of an orgasm once again within.

However, the more Luke felt stimulated, the more he increased his speed. His thrusts slowly grew eager and more forceful as he got closer to his climax, still feeling the rush of a win from the match as he pounded into you.

And you felt him getting sloppier. His eyes shutting close as he desperately fought not to reach the peak, trying his best to have you come with him. Carefully he listened to your moans as you were about to let yourself give in to an orgasm as well.

"Yes, baby... I'm close... please come with me..." Luke almost cried out.

And you were almost there with him.

But as you were about to announce your climax, the tightening of your core around Luke's shaft had him involuntarily come a little too close to his peak. And with a deep, uncontrollable grunt, he let himself go, spilling his release into the latex as he felt the rush take over.

"Fuck..." Luke shouted, letting go of the last drops, his body trembling as he almost collapsed and fell with his face into the crook of your neck. The room was filled with the aftermath of passion, both of you catching your breath in the shared intimacy of the moment. The echoes of pleasure lingered in the air, creating a sense of vulnerability.

You let the silence fill the room as Luke slowly gained control of his heavy breaths, his body lying on top of you as he let out a deep sigh.

"I'm so sorry, babe..." he timidly mumbled into your skin, and you couldn't help but form a soft smile on your lips.

"It's okay, Luke," you tried to comfort him with a soft tone of voice, gently stroking your fingers through his hair before he lifted his head to look at you.

"No, it's not okay... you didn't get to come first, baby... you know I always want that," he whispered softly, his eyes darting from side to side as he kept apologising.

But you merely offered him another light chuckle and caressed his cheek. "Hey, it was your night tonight... after the thrill from the game, and how eager we both were, it makes sense it didn't take long."

“Still… I feel bad about not making you come…”

Once more, you just flashed him a soft smile.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to do it again – you know what they say: practice makes perfect.”

And your words seemed to slowly reassure him as you both remained in the relaxed position, comforting each other while keeping your eyes locked onto his. Eventually, he accepted your words and withdrew himself from your embrace.

Though you had to admit feeling a little disappointed, having been so close to your peak, you were also okay with how Luke came to his release. He had made you feel good after all, and it truly brought you joy to please him.

#my asks #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes smut #nhl smut #new jersey devils imagine

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genshxn · 8 months

Text

dan heng being bad at feelings, the sequel.

started writing this pre-1.3, so i am once again emphasizing that i am making shit up. (well, 1.3 dropped while still working on this and the TB mission was rather lacklustre, so i'm gonna half ignore it).

sorry for any typos/mistakes/whatever, most of this was written at dubious hours of the night.

contains. mild-moderate canon divergence, dubious jing yuan shenanigans, dh being somewhat down bad. i dropped a bit too much spice in, so it is no longer “mild”. take that as you will.

7.5K words. THIS IS SO FUCKING EMBARRASSING.

here's the first part in case you haven't read it. you're still not the trailblazer.

tags: @akhiran @cypunk-0 @fiona782 @seelelovesbronya @bleakqblake @xiaos-poems

this place is not a place of honour. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here…nothing valued is here. Below 15, DNI. Go away.

the next day, you awoke to a feeling of emptiness at your side. any part of the bed that your limbs weren’t splayed upon was long cold with dan heng’s absence. you were alone, still left in the nest of sheets and pillows he arranged himself. it couldn’t have all been some kind of fever-dream, could it?

no, any such possibility was dashed when you looked at the messages on your phone. one unread, left two hours ago.

with the ellipsis and all. oh, the self-inflicted misery. (does he really consider every single person his enemy?) you sighed, swinging your feet off the side of the bed to get up. if you knew him well enough, then you already knew the next little while was going to be tricky, to say the least. it was obvious what his plan was from the beginning, with him abandoning your side at the sun’s first rays: avoidance.

and avoid you, he did. in the denouement after phantylia’s attack, he still had to be around you, but the stiltedness he carried with him was palpable. he made a point to stand as socially acceptably far from you. it was almost like he was acting like a ghost solely to you. elusive, non-communicative, only seen out of the corner of your eye. perhaps leaving you with the lingering feeling of being watched, and ultimately gone before you could even call his name. in fact, he quite literally ghosted you. he wouldn’t even respond to your messages.

once the day after the final events rolled around, you thought that maybe he would have had enough time to finally be able to face you again, but no. apparently he elected to confine himself to the archives the moment he returned aboard the express. however, this didn’t deter you from going knocking on his door.

"dan heng?" you tapped on the sealed door. your ear was right up against the frame, listening intently.

whatever shuffling was coming from within fell still at your voice.

"dan heng, i know you’re in there. i just heard you stop moving."

there was more silence, then followed by a sigh. "did pom-pom not relay my one request?"

"no, they did. told me that i’m not allowed near the archives."

"yet you’re still here…" his voice was strained, and distant from the door. he must have been sitting either at his desk or on his thin, messy futon. beyond that, it was hard to imagine what he was doing in there, or even what he looked like. it was surprising. you thought he struggled to control his form, but it seemed no problem when he wasn’t with you. so was he the regular old dan heng sitting in there? or the vidyadhara that laid next to you that night?

"you really think i’m gonna listen? i never do." you squared yourself further towards the door. "now, c’mon. we’re already talking, so can’t you just—"

"n-no, i can’t," he cut you off. "i… i’m sorry, but not here, and not like this."

"can you at least tell me why you say you can’t be around m—?" almost as if on cue, in came an angry pom-pom inbound like a squishy freight train.

"hey! what did pom-pom just say?!" they cried. "can’t you follow one simple rule for the time being?"

as pom-pom ushered you away from the archives with weak thumps to the back of your legs, you grunted to yourself. you were tempted to chuck them in the opposite direction, but alas, such a thing was not in the cards for you. after all, it would be wise to not tempt fate with the conductor. things seemed like they were going to be more difficult than you anticipated.

��░░░░░░

early the next morning, long before either march or stelle would rise, you shuffled your way into the parlor car in search of food. if it was going to be anything like yesterday, you were anticipating being the only one in the parlor car. however, to your surprise, there was another person present when you silently closed the door behind you—dan heng. he was in his regular appearance of shorter, fluffy hair and his regular attire. you sighed as quietly as you could, staring at the back of his head that leant on his wrist, propped up on the table. seeing him staring dejectedly at the food was a sorry sight.

the unspoken tradition you had with him was that when the whole express wasn’t eating together, it’d always be you two sharing your meals together. it began when you first joined the express—after dan heng himself, but before march. left adrift as a vagrant amidst the stars, you were all too familiar with the feeling of loneliness. it was always at its worst when you managed to gather together enough scraps to resemble the meals you used to eat in your old home. to you, when possible, meals were something that should be shared in the company of others. so when you first saw dan heng sat alone on your first proper morning aboard, you saw part of yourself in him. a part that you wanted gone, now that you had a new home. so you sat yourself down next to him, your own food in hand. you were met with some minor (albeit polite) resistance, but you being the stubborn ass you were, would not have it. you knew your persistence was risky, but it paid off. not long after that, he would wait until you were sitting with him.

so to see that sight left you saddened, but also vehemently annoyed. normalcy was out the window thanks to this baffling, self-imposed restriction he had against you. as quietly as you could, you stalked up behind him. moving as lightly as possible felt like it was the only way possible to get closer to him. it wasn’t like he developed a sudden allergy to your presence or something, was it?

you were successful in thwarting his pre-occupied senses as you reached the velvet couch. but maybe you were too successful, because he almost leapt out of his skin when you planted yourself down next to him. you leaned against the table and spoke. "how about us talking if it’s over breakfast?"

he did manage to calm down, but not by a lot, and not enough to give you a reply. his expression was still frazzled as he struggled to keep himself in place.

"can you please tell me if i’ve done something wrong? i don’t understand why we’re suddenly like strangers again," you said, reaching out to put your hand atop his one that was clenched at his side. but he snatched it away before you could feel the warmth of it.

"it’s my fault. you’ve done nothing," he said. "but please, i need some time before i can talk to you properly."

he turned to get up and leave, but you caught him by the sleeve. "w-wait, by why?" you trailed off, voiced far weaker than intended.

the look he gave you was weird. it was a jumble of confused emotions, but the most you could make out was nervousness. you had no idea what that light flush could have meant for you. his mouth parted to make some sort of reply, and you could have sworn you the glimpse of sharpened canines. "since when have you had fangs in this appearance?" you blurted out after doing a double take.

his eyes flared wide open and a hand flew over his mouth. "s-since never." with that, he slipped from your grasp. "please excuse me."

you watched incredulously as he walked out of the parlour car and back towards the archives as if he had wooden knees. you had no idea what just happened. rejection, you supposed. but considering how he was that night, it made no sense. nothing about this made any sense.

whatever it was, it was slowly eroding your patience, leaving you biting the inside of your lips in irritation. it’s true you were doing some type of avoidance when his alternate form was finally revealed, but it was nothing of this calibre. it was almost impossible for it to be the case with dan heng, but if this really was some kind of petty revenge, he may as well have whipped out a steel chair after you knocked shoulders with him.

░░░░░░░

your shameful failure of an interaction left you in need of recuperation. you hadn’t felt that irked and downright baffled since one of herta’s curios fell on your head. so now, you were blathering a ranting tirade at stelle and march over some snacks, all in the parlour car. "i swear to whatever aeon’s listening, he’s turned emo or something." you folded your arms across your chest, sinking down in your plush chair.

"like he wasn’t before?" stelle mumbled, not looking up from whatever gacha game she was playing on her phone.

"eh, not really. he does have his moments, though." march shrugged, grabbing a single chip. "but yeah, i’ve never seen anything like this. it’s so weird, he almost never avoids you like this!"

"hence why i’m so confused."

"things seemed to get pretty tense between the two of you after he had his magical girl transformation," stelle added while shovelling a handful of chips into her mouth, still not looking up. "then maybe… the day after phantylia, he got even weirder."

"yeah, like, he won’t go near you for some reason, but he keeps staring at you so longingly and sighing like you’re the last cookie in the jar and he’s been told he can’t have any more!" march said with the melodramatic flourish of a swoon.

"that one sounds like it’s based on real experiences." stelle cast her a sideways glance, to which march let out a sniff and wiped away a dry tear.

"just how much has he been doing that?" you muttered, unable to comprehend.

"a fair amount from what i’ve seen. he’s looked like a kicked puppy every single time," march said. "well, as much as dan heng can look like a kicked puppy."

"not that he’s particularly talkative, but i’ve tried asking him about it. was only met with howling winds of jarilo-vi’s everwinter storm." stelle placed her phone down on the table and sat back with her arms crossed. "but now, he’s just being straight up weird. (y/n), what’d you do to him?"

"yeah, i mean, he won’t even eat in the mornings if you’re there!" march cried.

your nails dug into your knees as you looked at your lap. you could feel a heat creeping onto your face as you recalled him so close to you. his words still rung in your head. if they were true, then what the fuck was he doing now? "i—i don’t really want to say, since it’s between him and i," you said. "but some pretty… significant things happened, i guess."

march suddenly drew in a comically loud gasp. "DID HE FINALLY CONFE—" she began, but you clapped your hand over her mouth before she could finish.

"must’ve," stelle said, leaning forward with her hands on the table loosely clasped in front of her.

"it wasn’t… exactly like that." your voice was low. your attempts to protect your dignity were feeble at best. it’s true, he never explicitly told you he has feelings for you in the classic format of ‘i like you’, but… who were kidding, it was a confession in all forms except literalness. you grabbed at your face, hiding the creeping heat behind your hands with a groan.

"no, it was totally a love confession. he’s been head over heels for you for a while now! even when i first met you two, it was so obvious he had a big ol’ crush on you. how’d you not notice it?!"

"cuz they’re denser than dan heng." stelle deadpanned, staring right at you.

"if you’re going to be making indirect insults about me, at least do it to my face," a familiar voice muttered from somewhere a distance behind you. in walked dan heng, eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose. he was once again in his normal appearance. stelle immediately squashed you down beneath the square table, leaving you only to look at everyone’s legs.

"oh, so the elusive dan heng finally graces us with his presence, huh?" you couldn’t see march’s face, but you knew she was making a half-lidded, unimpressed frown at him—the certified march classic.

"i’ve had a lot of information to collate and put into the archives, so i’ve been busy—" his words stopped short. from around the bend of the chair’s edge, you could see him inch closer to the table.

"been busy what? you just stopped talking." march sounded confused.

"is that… (y/n)’s scent?" his tone was far sharper, but his wording sounded unsure.

"are you calling them stinky? that’s kinda rude, isn’t it?" march frowned.

"huh? no, of course not!" he sputtered. "it’s just v-vidyadhara senses. they’re quite acute." there was the shuffling of some fabric. he must have crossed his arms.

"well i say it’s cuz you’re going heehee-silly-delulu with your big fat crush on them." march chimed in. your eyes widened as you frowned. why were they both baiting the literal dragon?

the only sound that came out of dan heng was something like an indignant cry that was cut-off at its head. "i… i do not—"

"you don’t like them? alright, keep telling yourself that," stelle said.

"…what hand does (y/n) have in this? they were just here, weren’t they?" he took a few steps towards the table. you imagined him with a strained look on his face, fighting to keep his composure like he yesterday. as he was stood right in front of you, you felt yourself shrinking back. it was maybe only seconds until ground zero—until everything hit the fan. "because that’s their scent nearby…" he changed his footing just a touch, and the second you saw the tips of his fluffy hair peak down past the table, you launched headlong into him. not by your own volition, but because a heeled boot slammed into your lower back, jetting you forward. your face collided with some part of his legs (of which was not very soft), sending you both in the same direction with simultaneous cries. there was a significant thud when dan heng hit the floor, and your head knocked into something bony.

your eyes cracked open, rubbing your forehead with a groan, but all sounds fell silent when you realized you were hovering between his knees. you stared up at him with wide eyes and a stifled breath, where he met your owlish gaze with his own. in other words, you were almost right between his legs. both of your faces lit like infernos, but neither of you moved. a grand total of two seconds passed before the vidyadhara features came out. it was quick—his horns rose from his head, and his hair spilt over his shoulders. his tail appeared behind him, laying still. even his clothes suddenly swapped out on him. his chest rose and fell as his breath seemed to quicken.

"s-sorry," you swallowed thickly. in almost an instant, he dug one of his clawed hands into his arm. he clambered to his feet, unable to look you in the eye.

"wh-what the hell was that?" his voice cracked.

"fuck, that was my bad." stelle said from behind you.

"ngh, you… please excuse me," he quickly turned and strode back towards the archives, still holding onto his arm. you hadn’t moved from the floor when you watched the passenger cabin’s door close behind him.

"what the heck, stelle?!" march cried, startling you.

"holy fuck, i’m so sorry. i did not think it’d go like that," stelle said. when you looked back over, she was leaning back and had raked her bangs back, hand still on her forehead.

"how did you think it’d go?" you groaned, unsteadily raising to your feet once again.

"i dunno, but not like that."

"why’d he suddenly change like that, i wonder?" march tapped her finger to her chin, looking off to the side.

"cuz he’s down bad." stelle looked very confident in her answer.

you almost choked on your spit.

"he’s down bad, but then he keeps running off 'cuz refuses to let himself be so."

"what kind of a theory is that?!" march huffed.

"a simple observation. mr. yang says i’m perceptive, so i have final authority on all judgements ever made." stelle crossed her arms over her chest, face seldom making any expressions. "and i say exactly what i said."

you stood with your head hanging in your hands, burning with embarrassment. things couldn’t keep going on like this. if this was the new dynamic, then how were any of you supposed to function while you’re out trailblazing? how were any of you supposed to function even just normally? that was it. you raised your head until your eyes lifted from behind your hands, a new resolve filling your blood. maybe jing yuan might know something.

░░░░░░░

managing to secure a time to speak to jing yuan was unbelievably easy. then again, you should gave guessed it’d be. over messages, he told you that since he’s been doing nothing but resting, he’s incredibly bored—someone to see or speak to is more than welcome. and so, it quickly was organized that you could stop by a planned location in aurum alley to see him.

the time soon rolled around, as long as it took. during the day, as expected, there was no sign of dan heng having any interest in interacting with you normally, much to your growing irritation and mild chagrin. even march and stelle were shaking their heads and clicking their tongues in disapproval.

it didn’t take long for you to get there. you agreed to meet him in a small, secluded area, just out of the way of eyes that might seek to pry into the general’s private business. it was a bit into the early evening. it wasn’t too hard to find him sitting at his table since he wasn't exactly the most conspicuous person out there. the golden artificial sunlight poured in from an oblique angle overhead, coating the tucked-away courtyard in a honeyed light. once he saw you approaching, jing yuan cast you one of his usual sleepy, cattish smiles.

"um, hello," you spoke, pulling out a seat next to him.

"and to what do i owe the pleasure?" there was almost a purr in his voice. "tell me, what is it you wished to speak about?" he leaned forward, resting his head on his wrist propped up on the table. "or did you simply come here to chat with me because you felt like it?" he made a closed-eyed smile laced with mischief.

"ah, i’m sorry to disappoint, but it’s because i’m having a bit of a dilemma." you scratched the back of your head with an awkward laugh. "please hear me out on this one, but it’s about dan heng."

"oh, dan heng? what about him?" jing yuan tilted his head. "as it stands, i’m afraid you might know him better than i do, unfortunately. so i don’t know if i would be able to provide the best of help for you." there was a faint, bittersweet smile on his lips, making you bite your own.

"it’s, ah, a little more about him as a vidyadhara, i suppose. i’m not sure if he has anything in common with his previous incarnation, but i thought there must be something there."

"well, i can say his obstinance seems to have certainly survived reincarnation."

"it’s thriving," you huffed, at which jing yuan lightly laughed.

"so is that the root of your problem? him being too stubborn on something?"

"that’s about it, yeah." you pressed your lips into a line. "he’s been avoiding me for… reasons i won’t divulge… and i don’t what i can do to get him to talk to me again."

"you don’t need to put it like that. i can tell he really likes you," he said, the trace of a smug grin on his face. after you coughed loudly, he continued. "he’s rather obvious if you know what you’re looking for. but anyway, what happened between you two? if i’m allowed to know, that is."

you swallowed nervously. should you really be revealing everything like this? you did it anyway. "one night, we said a few things of… i guess questionably romantic nature to each other, and he reacted in a way that i think was influenced by some sort of… vidyadhara shenanigans."

jing yuan looked at you with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "go on."

"he hauled me off to his bed and then got uncharacteristically affectionate. he had a back-and-forth with self-doubt once he realized i was really confused by it all, but i told him it’s fine. i mean, i even pet his horns out of my own volition and stuff." it was all coming out at this point. "then he eventually drifted off and then pretty much declared his feelings in his half-sleep. but even though i told him i’m fine with him doing whatever he was doing, he still decided to run off the next morning. i’ve tried to talk to him repeatedly, but he won’t reply to my messages and he almost freaks out every time i’m in his vicinity. i don’t get it!"

"mm, that’s quite the situation on your hands there," jing yuan hummed. there was a mischievous spark in his eye, and you weren’t sure if you liked the look of it. "now, i couldn’t tell you the specifics, but if you say he got ’uncharacteristically affectionate’, then that’s definitely some old vidyadhara response. they can get very protective over the things they love."

your gaze dropped somewhere in front of your as your face prickled with heat at his words.

"but now, i’d wager he’s stuck in some sort of self-imposed battle of will against himself."

"and how would you suggest i get him out of it?"

"i suppose there is technically the option of waiting this out," he glanced at your face. you looked embittered at such an inane suggestion, making him laugh. "or you could simply make him lose the battle, since it sounds like he’s set on taking it ad infinitum, if needed."

"small issue… i’m now allowed near the archives," you sighed, leaning yourself back. "it’s hard to simply go there with both the conductor banning me as well as dan heng refusing to open his door."

"hmm…" jing yuan shifted his hand beneath his chin. "might i do something a bit uncouth?"

"uhh, okay."

"come here for a moment." he slid himself next to you, turning to face you a little more. with a slight frown, you turned towards him as well. "now, i can’t guarantee his reaction to this, but—" he suddenly pulled you closer toward him and placed his head in the crook of your neck—the same side dan heng had his. one hand snuck its way around your neck and held the base of your neck ever so gently, while the other looped around your back. you had to fight a shudder when you could feel jing yuan’s lips ghost over your neck and shoulder. "if i do this, it may be enough to knock him from this cycle of his."

"wh-what?" you strained out.

"he’ll be able to tell i’ve been with you. and by the places i’ve been in contact with you…" he said, voice low. his faint breaths were cool on your shoulder. you couldn’t suppress a slight shiver. "…it should be enough to grant you access to… the archives, was it?"

"y-yeah." you blinked a few times. your brain had been reduced to a single cell bouncing around inside your brain like a shitty maraca.

jing yuan finally pulled back, assuming his original pose. "please forgive me for that… but you’ll likely see why i did it." he still couldn’t help but wear his usual small grin for the second part. "i’d now recommend that you find him again, and try to keep his attention long enough for him to notice you were with me. vidyadhara’s senses of smell are perceptive, so it shouldn’t be long. well now, you’d best get back then." his stupid grin was even wider and even smugger. his gaze wasn’t condescending, but read more as if he were thinking just wait and see.

"i… guess i’ll be going then. th-thank you, general." you made an awkward bow as you hustled back the way you came, hyperaware of the air brushing against your shoulder. it all felt incredibly foreboding… but that was to be expected when you were about to enter the dragon’s den.

░░░░░░░

your plan was flawless:

1. jing yuan does his shit

2. go back to the express.

3. bait with bubble tea to get the door open.

4. "talk" to dan heng long enough until he notices jing yuan was up to something

5. ???

6. profit.

just as detailed, to further your chances of getting that door cracked open, you decided to buy a bubble tea. a classic milk should have sufficed, since he tended to favour the more simple things. the chances of him actually opening the door to take it were already slim, but desperate times called for desperate measures. knowing him, he’d simply make you leave it at the door, which was a problem. so there you were, stuck on an express couch, plotting. (or, perhaps more aptly, chewing your nails in nerves). as you sat there, in waddled pom-pom, looking mighty chuffed for some unknown reason.

"hm-hm-hm! dinner of pom-pom’s own creation will be ready in just over 20 minutes!" they declared, puffing their stuffed chest. they waited for any reaction, but no one looked up at them, making them deflate with a scowl. "stelle, (y/n) you go tell everyone," they grumbled, shuffling back into the passenger cart and beyond.

"wait, what?" you looked up—you hadn’t even noticed them.

"we’re on messenger duty," stelle said from her seat. she was placed upside down on the couch, hair grazing the ground while she played her usual gacha games.

"can i try and deal with dan heng?"

"i mean, sure." she looked over at you. "but what’re you plotting?"

"my entry into the archives. i come baring gifts." you motioned towards the untouched bubble tea sitting in front of you.

"i’ll leave you to it. i’ll go tell march and the others then." she chucked her phone elsewhere on the couch and got up, wandering towards the passenger car. you followed shortly behind, offering in hand.

it was a short walk. you knew you were being dramatic, but you couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous the closer you drew to the archives. you had already weathered so many rejections, so it’s not like this was going to somehow have a worse result. perhaps it was because you put too much on this. you’ve gone to a rather large effort just to have a slim chance of getting him to open the door—speaking of, you were already there.

you raised your hand to knock on it, but before you could even lay your hand on it, dan heng spoke from inside. "what is it, (y/n)?" he was once again somewhere further off in the room, speaking with undecipherable emotions.

"um." your voice cracked, making you cringe. "pom-pom said dinner’s ready in 20."

"ah. thank you," he said plainly. it still kinda stung, being back at what felt like the stage where you were only acquaintances.

"i also got you something." you tried to cast another line.

"you can leave it at the door."

you flopped your head against the door. of course he said it. "i’d rather give it to you now. it’s some bubble tea. the ice is melting." there was no response. you couldn’t tell what he was doing. "c’mon, it’s not like you’re sick or something."

"hah, more like lovesick," stelle called as she walked past behind you.

"stelle!" dan heng cried indignantly. he sounded closer to the door. "i am not—"

"if you’re not, then open the door." she simply kept walking.

you were stood with wide, unblinking eyes and an open mouth, watching her jacket pass through the cabin door until you were left alone in the hall. the door suddenly slid open a little. you jumped, turning to stare up at him. as usual, there was a strained look on his face that he was trying to suppress. "see, i’m not—" he looked out and around for stelle, but she was nowhere to be seen. instead, he simply sighed.

you tried to swallow your heart beating in your throat, but it still hammered away. "hi."

he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the inner door frame. "hello," his voice sounded tired. tired with himself. "please forgive me for how i’ve been acting. i know it’s not fair to you. it’s just…"

"i know, you need more time. you like to say it," you muttered with a slight, strained grin. "by the way, here’s your tea. it’s just your usual order." you held it out it to him, and he looked down at it with softened eyes. as he went to grab it, his fingertips brushed over yours. he seemed more startled than you, but after a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand back over top of yours.

"i haven’t been completely honest with you," he said. (that was certainly one way of putting it).

you held your breath, as if making a single noise could suddenly startle him back into the archives.

"i… since that night, i haven’t known what to do with mysel—" he suddenly paused, frowning the tiniest bit. he leaned forward, seeming to concentrate on something with closed eyes. once they opened again, his pupils had constricted into slits, and he was staring intently at you. uh oh.

"wh-what is it?"

"where were you before this?" he took the tea from you and placed it somewhere next to the door frame inside the archives.

your stomach flipped. was this really going where you thought it was? "um. i was wandering around aurum alley." it wasn't a lie. "why?"

"that’s not all. what else?" he took you by the arm and drew you into the archives. it was an uncharacteristic mess in there. low-lit, and with clothes, books and items were strewn all over the place, perhaps as a reflection of his state. you watched the door close behind you, and when you looked back, there stood dan heng with his full vidyadhara look on display, right in front of you. uh oh.

he stepped closer to you until you could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him, then grabbing hold of your shoulders. it was a tight grip, but not enough to hurt yet. he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and drew in a long but quiet inhale. "what were you doing with jing yuan?" his voice was low, almost with a slight growl. as he spoke, his arms had wound around shoulders, so he was holding the back of your head, just like jing yuan was. only far harsher than the other’s ghost-like touch.

yes, this was going the direction you thought it was. "we—we only met to talk about something," you sputtered out, your heart in your throat again.

"then why do i smell him on you, as if you were doing something more than just talking?" with a free hand, he took your jaw and turned your face towards him. he was only inches away from you, gazing at you with narrowed, dimly-glowing eyes. "why go to him when you have me?"

you frowned, eyes wide. "huh? what do you mean i have you? you’ve refused to speak to me normally ever since the morning after you hauled me to your bed. besides, i-it’s not what you think."

but your words were lost on him. "no, this won’t do." his voice was barely a murmur. he seemed to be living in his own version of the world. dragon-brain was back, evidently a fuller force than ever. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t him drawing you even closer, placing his head in the crook of your neck and nuzzling. your face lit like an inferno as some kind of noise escaped your lips. it was really back to the nuzzling. only with surprising fervour, this time. he nestled his face into your neck, exhaling small sighs against you. his nose and lips brushing against your skin was almost ticklish, but you weren’t laughing when his tail snaked itself around your hips, twining itself down one of your legs.

"d-dan heng?!" you cried when he suddenly lifted you with his hands clasped beneath the backs of your thighs, assisted by the tail. he had his mouth placed right over top of your collar bone, watching where he was going from over your shoulder. "dan heng, put me down!" you had to hold onto his back and shoulders for stability.

he gave you no reply, only taking you back to his mussed futon. similar to his bed at the inn, the blanket was strewn in a way akin to the base of a nest. stray pieces of clothing made up the rest of lack-lustre structure—you could have sworn one of your own old shirts you’d forgotten somewhere was poking out from beneath a different article. dan heng sat himself down in the centre of the futon and brought you into lap. your position was a bit awkward as you sat perpendicular across from him. both your legs went one direction while your torso was turned to face him. he sunk his head into the crook of your neck again, drawing in more, shorter inhales.

"seriously, wh—what are you doing?"

"he’s still on you." he said against your shoulder, warmth breath making you shiver. there was a slight growl in his throat again.

"even after that?" as you spoke, he tilted your head away, exposing more of your neck. "hey, w-wai—ah!" you made a cry of pain when a pair of fangs suddenly bit down into your shoulder. it wasn’t hard enough to draw much blood, but more than enough to hurt. you shuddered with some ungodly, almost harrowed noise when his tongue glided over what would blossom into a bruise. his arms and tail wound tighter around you, as if you might slip away at any second. he moved on, this time toward your jaw, peppering it with desperate kisses. you tried to say his name as he trailed down in between his own rapid-growing breaths. he was panting once he reached your shoulder, his kisses sloppy. in some work of miraculous dexterity, he had readjusted your seat on him until his waist was slotted between your legs. all the while, one hand was in your hair angling your head for his best reach, the other around your back. you had to hide your face in his hair when he had began making small vocalizations, something like tiny whines.

you said his name again, this time louder when he trailed his fangs back up your shoulder. right after he left a hot kiss on your shoulder, he bit down again. you seethed in pain, trying to push his head off, but you were only met with purrs. even though he didn’t seem fully aware of what was going on, those purrs had to be weaponized against you. he shifted to another part of your shoulder, mouthing another kiss on it, but before he could bite, you grabbed his horn.

"dan heng!" you yanked his head back, surprising him. but instead of some sort of pained cry, he let out a heady moan. to your surprise, that noise slipping from his mouth seemed to restore his lucidity in an instant. his dilated eyes shot wide open and his hands flew to cover his mouth, almost sending himself backwards in the process. his face burned with embarrassment, colouring his cheeks and pointed ears in a bright crimson. you huffed, but didn’t remove yourself from your position. in fact, you anchored yourself down by locking your ankles behind his back if he were to try and push you off.

"(y/n) to dan heng, can you hear me?" you said, almost tempted to knock on his forehead.

"i-it happened again," his voice was quiet in horror.

"hey, i need you to listen to me before you clam up on me again." you brought one hand to the side of his face, gently making him look up at you. he jumped at the contact, sending his hands further up his face until they were covering his eyes.

"please forgive me," he rushed out.

"look at me," you said softly, placing one hand on top of his to move it to the side—one of his faintly glowing eyes glanced at you. "i’m more happy to make out with you, but we need to talk first."

he made a strangled groan of embarrassment in answer, moving his hand back in place again.

"are you listening?"

he nodded.

"alright, the whole thing with jing yuan was me asking about you," you said. "i thought he might know a bit about you as a vidyadhara and your behaviour, so i went to ask what i could do to get you to let me into the archives. his idea was a less than tactful, but i guess it worked. that’s why ‘his scent was on me’, as you say. he only stuck his head on my shoulder for a bit because you’d be able to tell and then demand an explanation or something."

his fingers had parted to show his eyes again, and they were staring in bewilderment.

"so, i’m sorry for doing all that to you." your voice was soft. "i just wanted to see you."

"no, i should be apologizing. i have no control of myself and i haven’t been fair to you." he lowered his hands to hovering somewhere over his chest. "i was saying before… since that night, i have been an embarrassment. all i’ve wanted to do is steal you away and… smother you in affection until you returned it. the feeling was so intense that i didn’t trust myself around you, so i hid. i thought if i waited, it’d calm down, but it really only made it worse."

your heart swooned then and there, lighting a fire in your cheeks. "o-oh… so if i did return it, then you wouldn’t act like a lovesick ghost anymore?"

"hey." he frowned, but his face soon fell back into the same flustered expression from before. "but to answer you, maybe after a while. i could also just get worse… but i really don’t want to subject you anything you don’t want." while he couldn’t meet your gaze, he still leaned his head into the palm of your hand. with a sigh, you held his jaw and angled his face to look at you again.

"how many times do i have to say i don’t mind? you can’t seem to fit that one through that thick vidyadhara skull of yours." you did actually knock on his head this time, making him wince.

"i—i don’t know, i just get embarrassed." he hid face his face against your chest, face a shade redder and his ears drooping. "you also always look so shocked. i don’t want to do that to you."

"that’s only because you tend to forget any kind of warning," you said with a light laugh. "truly, i like it—when you give me warning, that is—because i really like you too, stupid."

his breath audibly hitched, and he raised his head back up. "t-too? but i’ve never said—"

"are you kidding? you don’t need to say it when the aeons and their grandmas know. even march says it’s obvious. you’re seriously worried about that after you’ve made out with my shoulder sloppy style? by the way, what was with the bites?"

"ngh, don’t word it like that." his tail that was still tangled around you thumped against your back indignantly. "…and the bites are a weird territorial thing. i’m sorry if they hurt." he leaned his head against you, running his thumb over one of the marks.

"dragons…" you sighed with a smile. "you’re lucky you’re so cute." you pet his hair, and he leaned into your touch.

he moved his chin so it was on your collarbone, looking up at you with softened eyes. there were almost stars of reverence in them when he gazed at you. "i love you."

"wait, wha—" you began, but he swallowed the rest of your words when his lips were upon yours. he pressed himself up against you, his hands gently holding the sides of your face. as he kissed you, there was a faint rumbling and vibration coming from his chest—he was purring.

he pulled back again, leaving you a little short of breath and a lot dazed. you’d always thought it’d be you that had to kiss him first, not the other way around. he began to leave another trail of kisses starting from your lips to your jaw, this time leading toward the other side he had already been. your hands fell from their place on him and inched onto his back while his lips were on your neck. one hand slipped into his back window, and he suddenly gasped. his back arched into you, almost knocking you over. he panicked, and his tail constricted behind you like another set of arms to catch you.

"what was that?" you laughed, trying to re-steady yourself.

"your hand was cold. i don’t know, i guess i have a sensitive back," he huffed. his ears were angled down and a flush was heavy on his face. you couldn’t really articulate what it was about him, but you were suddenly overcome with cuteness aggression. you leaned your weight onto him, sending him backwards onto the futon and—perhaps somewhat out of revenge—hovered yourself over top of his hips. he stared up at you with widened eyes and a held breath, frozen and waiting for your next move.

"you said i need to return your affection, didn’t you?"

he swallowed and nodded the tiniest bit.

"so let me have some fun too, my beloved." you placed a hand on his cheek.

"wait, you heard—i actually said that?" it almost looked like steam would start rising from the top of his head at any point.

"heard it loud and clear." you smiled to yourself, leaning down and managing to get your fingertips into his chest window—only for the door to slam wide open.

"hey, it’s dinner! what’re you two even doi—!" march called, leaning her hand on the doorway. you and dan heng leapt off each other, landing on the opposite sides of his futon. march stared in silence for a long while before lolling her head back. "jeez, finally! anyway, can you two wait until after dinner? pom-pom’s ‘bouta blow a gasket waiting for you two."

"w-we’ll be there in a minute," you said, trying to readjust your collar to try and hide dan heng’s bite marks.

"don’t be long!" march said as she strode back off down the hallway. a couple beats passed and you looked over at dan heng. by some miracle, he’d managed to swap himself back to his human look, but he still looked disheveled as he went to stand back up.

he held a hand out to you and pulled you up, pausing for a moment. he glanced at the bite marks on your shoulder that still peaked out, made some sort of strained sound and then removed his coat. "they don’t need to see that," he said as he strung it around your shoulders, fixing the collar so it hid the marks from sight.

"i’m wearing your coat. march saw us before. if she learns something, it’s guaranteed to be said," you deadpanned. "they’ll know."

instead of giving you a direct response, he took your hand in his and lead you out of the archives, looking at you with what was probably meant to be a neutral expression. his light flush and knitted eyebrows betrayed him though. "can we at least pretend we have dignity?"

"i mean, sure, but it’s not gonna do anything, looking the way we do. now c’mon, don’t wanna keep the conductor waiting." you walked off with him in tow.

he only made a small groan in response again.

#sorry for the random jerma joke at the beginning #it's a moral obligation for me #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader

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house-of-daena · 9 months

Text

how to milk a cow [alhaitham x gn.reader]

contents: no pronouns specified, dom reader/sub alhaitham, nsfw, degradation, humiliation, spanking, dacryphilia, overstimulation, (wc: 2.8k), tell me if i miss anything.

꒰ cow lingerie with alhaitham.... also r u guys ok with fics this long? ig i just have a lot to write about. i'll try to write something shorter and fast paced. (@niverine sorry for the tag i just thought you might enjoy this) rqs r open btw꒱

this was just beyond embarrassing.

all ahaitham wanted to do as soon as you laid your eyes on his body was to crawl into a corner and hide. his clothing, something you had offhandedly mentioned, was nothing but obscene.

he was wearing lingerie with patterns of a cow's spots, tightly hugging the curves of his pecs so deliciously, it seriously looked like he had a huge pair of tits. the set didn't have an appropriate size for him (they don't make them with a man with a big body in mind), so every time he moved, it felt like his bra straps would snap. and the panties that came along with it were struggling to keep themselves intact, the pretty black and white lace straining against his raging, leaky cock.

around his neck was a leather collar with a small cowbell that rang at his every movement. and to top it all off, a cute little butt plug that fit snugly in his hole, a tail akin to a cow's, swinging behind him.

his face was burning hot, his skin reddening from his cheeks and all the way down to his shoulders. at first, it was satisfying to wear such a vile set of lingerie when you first saw him, eyes blown wide in shock as your jaw dropped to the floor. pride swelled in his chest to see you so taken aback since it was you who usually surprised him by a lot.

but since the size was too small for him, his bra could barely handle his chest. the lace rubbed against his sensitive nipples at each breath he took, his shoulders slightly trembling as he tried to maintain his confident facade. but archons, curse the soft lace of his lingerie for feeling so good—he wanted to stop himself from moving any further, the lace of his bra and panties just kept rubbing against his most sensitive parts so lewdly.

his nipples, puffy and hard, and the slit of his cock head drooling with copious amounts of precum, forming a shameful wet spot on his panties. not to mention the butt plug that his hole kept puckering in and out, unintentionally dragging the cool metal against his velvety walls.

he had planned to put up a show for you. to perhaps take control tonight and impress you, but it seems like his own clothing was sabotaging his plans. and at the mere brush of your fingertips over his nipples, through the lace, he had arched his back and let out a humiliating, high-pitched moan.

your look of surprise slowly morphed into something smug, and he could feel his stomach do flips at the way you smirked at him. you eyed him so intently, trailing up from his head and down to his toes, digging heat all over his body with your predatory gaze. and with the lick of your lips, alhaitham felt faint from the excitement at the thought that you'd devour him, his cock twitching adorably in his frilly panties.

"someone's sensitive today." you teased with a chuckle, grabbing his waist and pulling him closer to the edge of the bed. alhaitham let out an annoyed huff, trying his best to not rub his thighs together, cock painfully throbbing for any sort of friction. "you must really like the lingerie you graciously bought for me."

"i-i didn't buy this for you," shit, he was already out of breath, the tail from his plug seemed to slightly wag as his body continued to disobey his mind, sucking in the plug as deep as it could get. you tilted your head, amused at how determined he was to keep pretending. there was a slight tremble in his movements, straddling your lap as his alluring, turquoise eyes bore an unimpressed gaze. "you should be grateful that i'm letting you see me like this."

"oh? that so?" you hummed as the hand that rested on his waist slowly slid back to the small of his back, making him shiver at your touch, and down to the plug. he shot you a questioning look, before lightly tugging on the fake tail, making him choke out a moan, his thighs giving out on him, and he falls against your chest. you cooed into his ear as you pressed the plug deeper into his hole, then slowly pull it out with a pop! "then who did you buy this for, hm?"

"for myself, of course." oh, and he still had the audacity to roll his eyes at you, acting as if nothing had happened. his hot breath tickled your neck as you watched his hole wink at the sudden emptiness as if it already missed the feeling of being filled. it was quiet, but you heard him whine and grip tightly on your shoulders, his ass wiggling a little in hopes to entice you enough to plug his greedy hole. being the kind lover you were, you pushed the plug back and grinned, alhaitham letting out a pleased sigh.

"well, is that all you got for me?" you chuckle, a teasing lilt in your voice as your hands roamed all over his wide back, nails grazing his skin and making his body twitch in anticipation. his heavy cock rested against your abdomen, smearing some of his juices onto your shirt.

alhaitham looked a bit conflicted. he desperately wanted to have you under his control tonight, to have you moaning his name again and again. the thought of you bending to his will thrilled him, his heart pounding against his chest. but then you'd have his overly sensitive nipple in a pinch, tugging incessantly, and pressing your hot tongue flat against the other through his bra, and he's easily reduced into small mewls and whimpers that he tried so hard to hold back.

"s-stop that- ngh! then i can actually do as i planned... haahhh..." if only you stopped attacking his chest, then maybe he could actually think straight. he was already so needy, his body screaming and begging for you to just fuck him dumb into oblivion, but he was stubborn. he refuses to give up until he's had this night in his own way.

but then your eyes darkened as an idea formed in your head. you gently moved alhaitham off of you and told him to get on all fours. he was going to argue with you, brows furrowed and a pout protruding his bottom lip, but you hushed him, promising him a reward.

oh, he's so cute, obeying at the simple premise of a reward, ass perked up in the air.

alhaitham narrowed his eyes at your sudden shift of behavior, growing more and more flustered as the seconds go by. sitting up on your knees, you gave him a soft smile, but your eyes twinkled brightly with mischief.

"looks like a stray cow escaped the barn," you mused, lips curling into a wolfish grin as alhaitham's mood quickly shifted from shock at the absurdity of your words, to embarrassed offense as his cheeks burned into deeper shades of red as he glared daggers at you. wearing the lingerie, losing his composure, and now getting on all fours by your command was already humiliating enough, but roleplaying?

alhaitham tries to ignore the way his cock jumps at your condescending stare, your grin mocking him in this degrading situation that puts his title as the acting grand sage of the akademiya to shame.

"i'm not going to-"

the loud sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated across your shared room, cutting him off as the sheets crumpled in his grip. alhaitham's breath got caught in his throat, along with his words, jolting at the sudden, harsh impact against his ass.

you tutted as you knead your palm at the reddening handprint on his cheek, the tingling pain lingering on his skin as he let out a deep breath through his nose. he turned his head to look back at you, glaring at you, a scowl prominent on his lips.

he may be pissed at you for catching him off guard, but you don't miss the way his bottom lip trembles as your hand soothes the surface of his skin. "cows don't talk," you remind him, tilting your head as your eyes darkened, "c'mon haitham, what sounds do cows make?"

alhaitham's adam's apple bobbed as he gulped nervously, body shaking both from anticipation and fear of what was about to come. his heart was beating erratically the more you look at him, almost convincing him that he was, indeed, lowly cattle that managed to escape the confines of your barn. he always felt so unbelievably helpless when you talk down on him.

"i'm not a-" he tries to speak, but it was only met with a slap on his ass. alhaitham gasps, his back arching as his thighs begin to restlessly rub against each other. he could feel his panties about to tear.

"stop, i-" you slapped his thigh, hard, and he accidentally let out a squeal. you don't even allow him to finish his sentence! you forced his legs to separate and his arms grew weak, his elbows now propping himself up against the bed. "let me talk-" each word he spoke, the harder your hand hits his skin.

fuck, the burn felt so good. he can't take it anymore. his cock kept drooling from the pleasurable pain of each slap you land on his ass, and it slowly oozed down the bed, dirtying your sheets. the thought of leaving marks on his skin brought tears to his eyes, lashes glittering with unshed tears as he pressed his lips tightly together.

you were mesmerized at how the fat of his ass jiggled at each slap, wanting to hit him more and more until it was as red as the prominent blush on his face. but you were dissatisfied at how quiet your dear alhaitham was, gritting his teeth and only whimpering under his breath, panting softly.

you huffed at his stubbornness, your hands now tenderly rubbing his poor abused skin, chuckling at how his neglected cock twitched and throbbed between his legs. "looks like i have to punish this misbehaving cattle for forgetting how to moo," you faked a disappointed sigh as manhandled alhaitham to lay on his back, relishing the shameful glare in his eyes, "but i have a different approach to remind my prized cow to moo again."

you didn't give him a moment's rest. after all, he was just cattle. a piece of meat for you to ravish, all for yourself. you laughed condescendingly at him as you looked at him with eyes clouded with a lustful haze, leaning down and capturing his lips into a loving kiss. all the while, your hand slipped inside his panties, fingertips playing with his sticky tip.

alhaitham was quick to return the kiss, his big arms wrapping around your neck as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. he pliantly gave easy access to your tongue, moaning at how rough you were kissing him, his hand pushing the back of your head to taste you more.

then you pull away, wet kisses trailing down to his jawline and onto his neck, nipping on the sweet spots that make him cry in bliss, before dipping your head down further. your teeth made work to move his bra up, to finally reveal his perky buds to your awaiting, hungry mouth. you cast alhaitham a cheeky glance, his eyes half-lidded and seductively biting his lip, he looked so gorgeous with his eyes twinkling with the same hunger as yours, pretty reds painting his cheeks.

pressing your wet tongue flat against his nipple, you hear him moan your name in a sultry tone, and you hastily began sucking on his hardened bud, slurping lewdly and tugging on it with your teeth. his dick was pulsating in your hand, aching with fervent need as he utters how desperate he was for anything, quietly pleading.

and as much as you loved watching alhaitham reduced into nothing but a needy slut, it wasn't what you wanted to hear from his lips, and he still has ignored your request. so you didn't spare him any mercy when your hand suddenly grabbed hold of his fat cock, digging your thumb onto his slit, his juices dripping all over your hand and down to his shaft.

he keens at the feeling of your warm hand finally engulfing his length, airy groans leaving his lips as you moved your hand up and down at a rapid pace, unrelenting, tightening your grip as you continued to suckle on his nipples.

you know his body more than he does, you've taken your time analyzing everything about him; what makes him react the most, what makes him moan, cry and scream—with just your hand tugging on his cock made his luscious body arch his back beautifully as he held onto your shoulders, digging his nails and leaving pretty crescent marks.

it was so easy to make him unfold, your thumb teasing his sensitive glans as your hands jerked him off. his cock endlessly leaked with his juices, so much so that you're practically using his pre as lube to speed up, your shared room now only accompanied by the lewd schlck! schlck! shlck! of your hand and alhaitham's cries and moans as it grew louder and louder.

and yet you didn't stop when he finally spurts out ropes of his cum onto his tummy. he was trying to catch his breath, vision blurry from his tears. no, you only intensified the way your hands pleasured him. you pressed the palm of your other hand on his angry, red cock head and began rubbing, cooing at the way his hips jerk back at the stinging pain from the overstimulation.

it felt like his body was in flames, body squirming and thrashing, the bell on his collar ringing as you kept jerking and rubbing his poor cock, gathering his cum into your hands to make your movements slicker. his eyes rolled back as his mind went completely blank, his toes curling as his body convulsed at how sensitive he was. he was screaming, squeezing his eyes shut as his tongue lolled out of his mouth.

"s-stop! i just- FUCK! ffffuck oh fuck! shit, oh archons, p-pleeassee!" alhaitham pleads, his body indecisive whether to pull away at the overwhelming pleasure that's sending electrifying sparks all over his body and down to his toes, or to pull away from the numbing pain it comes with. "i can't t-take anymore! i-i- AH PLEEASEE! i'm- i'm gonna cum again!!"

you didn't dare stop your hands, even if he came once more, so hard it seeped through your fingers. oh, you adored how much of a mess he and you haven't even done too much, grinning ear to ear as he doubles over. the loud squelching of his wetness was practically music to your ears. he was seeing stars at the back of his eyes, gripping the sheets for his dear life. he was shaking his head as he babbled nonsense, gasping for breath, pleading for mercy in between his broken moans.

you simply tutted at him, cooing mockingly at your boyfriend as you seized your movements for a short while, and you watched his chest rise and fall, catching his breath. "what sounds do cows make, haitham?" you ask again, making him cry when you squeeze his dick for an answer.

"c'mon baby," you hear him sob when you start jerking him off again, his body shaking like a leaf, mind drowning too deep into the sensations that spread all over his body that he can't even answer you. "you're usually so smart. i know you're not that dumb to forget something like that."

finally, it seemed to click in alhaitham what you wanted.

his bottom lip quivered, too lost in the pleasure, but not enough to that he's unaware now of how utterly humiliating what he was about to do. swallowing down a moan, he let out a long, and pathetic 'moooo'.

the laugh you let out was so taunting, it echoed in his mind, and your eyes held nothing but mirth and lust. he hoped that you'd spare him some mercy for obeying, but it was only a foolish thought, you wanted to hear more. so he did, his sinful moans turning into shameful moo's, his pride completely shattered to pieces.

it's not like he could be too embarrassed about it anymore. he's too dumb to realize he's began mooing loudly like a cow getting milk for all he's worth.

with another harsh jerk, more of his thick cum splattered all over his stomach, reaching up to his chest. swiping your thumb over his slit that leaked with beads of cum, you leaned down to kiss him on the lips.

"sorry love, i'mma make you cum 'till you can't anymore," you promised, and he whined pitifully, watery eyes begging you, whether to stop or keep going, you know he wasn't sure.

"after all, what else are cows good for except milking?"

#» asmo's writings #» alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x male reader #sub alhaitham #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #genshin smut #this has been in my mind for ages im glad i can finally share it lol

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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months

Note

Hey‼️

Soooo I was wondering if u could maybe possibly write an alastor x reader where reader has a secrets admirer and alastor is super jealous but he can't show it bc they're technically only friends and acting protective would be weird.

Bonus points if the read is completely oblivious to his jealousy and eats the snacks from the gift baskets all the time, right in front of him, and wonders why his eyes is twitching so much.

Pleaseee?

👀 I don't have time for this but-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a red flag fr

Description: ☝️⬆️

What does Alastor care if someone wants you? He has no interest in taking you for himself. Nope. Not. At. All.

Would laugh if anybody tried to claim he felt something for you other than mild fondness

It's just been a particularly annoying few weeks because of all the gifts being sent to the hotel with your name on them, from some persistent admirer

So he does his best to convince you that they aren't good enough for you

Alastor feels his mood sour when he hands you a bouquet of flowers, your face lighting up at the sight of them as you hold them like they're precious

He misses the way your smile falters a bit when you read the tag, a small part of you hoping they were from the demon in front of you instead

"Another lackluster gift from what must surely be the most lackluster admirer on this side of the pentagram. Just look at how wilted those flowers are already!"

You shake your head and toy with the petals on the flowers, picking off the dying ones delicately

He loves me... he loves me not...

"Oh hush, it's rather darling that someone took time out of their day to give me something so thoughtful.."

You walk away to put the bouquet into a vase so you miss the twitch in Alastor's eye, the tight clenching of teeth and fierce grip on his staff

"Thoughtful? Those are yellow roses! Yellow roses stand for friendship, not romance! You can do so much better!"

Or another time, you offered him a chocolate, munching away on sweets while holding a heart-shaped box

"Are you confessing to me? You shouldn't, I'm quite the heartbreaker just so you know~"

He regrets saying the words the moment they leave his mouth, but they're the only thing keeping a blush off his face, taking a chocolate to shut himself up

You only hum and roll your eyes, putting a hand on your hip as you shake the box at him, mostly all an attempt to get his eyes on the candies instead of your blushing face

"No, my secret little lover dropped off a bunch of these and I can't possibly be expected to eat all of this myself, now can I?"

The sweet treat suddenly feels bitter in his mouth and he wants to rip up the box in your hand

"Oh, so that's why these taste so uninspired! Most likely store bought instead of homemade, such a shame."

You only snort and shake your head, popping another chocolate into your pretty mouth

"Who makes homemade chocolates anymore? Let alone take time out of their day to have them delivered to me?"

Alastor is embarrassed by the warmth and genuine emotion in his voice, his smile softening as he looks you over

"Someone who cares about you enough to recognize you're worth the effort, my dear."

He leaves quickly to avoid any further embarrassment, blushing deeply and sliding the rest of the candy boxes into the trash on his way out

"A-Alastor!!"

"I'm simply doing you a favor, my dear!"

He doesn't see your sputtering and blushing as you try to comprehend what just happened

Alastor can handle the flowers, chocolates and all other sorts of gifts but when the letters start pouring in?? He's about to lose his mind

It's been at least three letters a week, and he's sick of finding them outside the hotel. He actually rips up the ones he gets to first

He finds Charlie and Angel leaning over your shoulder and reading a letter in your hands, a soft blush on your face

Charlie was cooing over how sweet the letter was while Angel was obviously teasing you, making your blush deepen

"And just what is that in your hands, my dear?"

You jump and try to hide the letter but Angel quickly snatches it away to keep reading it, laughing as he does

"Toots here got another love letter from her secret admirer~ They think she's just the most precious babe around~"

Charlie is squealing and fanning herself with her hands as she jumps up and down, making you groan and hide your face in your hands

"Isn't it just so romantic? They're really head over heels in love with her!"

Alastor feels his eye twitch as he snatches the letter from Angel to read it over himself, ignoring the noise of protest that comes from you

Finally, he glances over at you, crumpling the letter up and ripping it into pieces in front of everyone

"Well now! That was about the worst thing I've read all day!"

It felt good to rip it up, picturing it to be your admirer instead

You stand there in shock, eyeing the bits of paper then Alastor, Angel and Charlie slowly backing out of the room only to peek their heads back in

"They... they said I was beautiful."

Well... now he feels a little bad...

He recovers quickly though and wraps a casual arm around you, guiding you away from the mess as Niffty runs in to clean it up

"That's exactly what they wrote in the last one! It's nothing new, I'm afraid! Truly, you deserve better than that!"

You pout and lean your head on him a little, trying not to look disappointed about the letter

"Yeah? And just what do I deserve?"

He grins at you and leans in, pulling you closer to him

"Let me show you, my dear~"

You simply roll your eyes as you let him lead you out of the hotel on a walk, enjoying the weight of his arm around you

There's no more secret admirer after that, which suits you both just fine

Here~

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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makeyoumine69 · 10 months

Note

Hi! I wish you further growth and inspiration!

My choice is pussy eating and sex toys.

Good luck! 💦💦💦

Fever

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: You love going out and having dinner with Patrick, but not when his friends come along, they always make you feel so uncomfortable and insecure. Good thing he has his own ways of reassuring you, right?

— CONTAINS: Smut, established relationship, sex toys, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), Daddy kink, Praise kink, Degradation kink, pet names, a lot of cum, nipple play, choking, biting, slight dacryphilia, humiliation, dirty talk, Patrick being a manipulative dickhead.

— WORDS: 3.2k

— SONG REC: Babydoll x the Perfect Girl

— A/N: This day finally came, and I finished my first writing challenge, which I started to celebrate my 200 followers! Thank you so much, guys, for standing by my side. I love you and I hope you like it!🖤

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [BWC MASTERLIST] [support]💗

Dorsia, just the mention of the name of that establishment was enough to make Batman frown and clench his jaw in annoyance. Nonetheless, that was the exact place you and him wanted to spend that evening, and when you finally took your seats at the best table in Dorsia, Patrick's face was like a wax statue, it was impossible to read any of his emotions.

Tim, Craig, David and their bimbos couldn’t stop rumbling even for one second and that actually annoyed Bateman, but on the other hand he used it as an opportunity to whisper filthy things right into your ear, taking advantage of the fact that no one else was paying attention due to the ruckus.

“Did my good girl do her homework while I was away?” He nuzzled against your neck, and you fidgeted on your chair uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed. “I can’t wait until we get alone.”

“I bet you do.” You reply shortly, without breaking eye contact with him.

Pleased, Patrick leaned on the chair back, his sly smile speaking for itself. Sneakily, he placed his palm on your knee to play with the hem of your cocktail dress, only to tease you and induce you to try closing your legs. With a muffled gasp, you caught his dexterous hand just at the moment everyone looked at both of you.

"So, Bateman. How was your business trip?" Craig asked with a cheeky grin. "Did you enjoy LA? I hear the chicks there are pretty hot."

The men started laughing together as if they shared the same brain cell, and you used that moment to brush Patrick's palm away, which actually made him a little upset, so he paused and coughed a little.

"McDermott, you can go to LA and see everything with your own eyes!" Patrick scoffed and took a sip of his drink. "I don't want to give any spoilers."

Sighing, you pulled yourself together as you repeated to yourself over and over again that you wouldn't let their childish behavior get under your skin. The girls — models, supposedly — looked at each other in frustration, but neither Bateman nor his colleagues seemed to care.

"God, Bateman! Now I'm intrigued!" McDermott chuckled before lighting his cigarette.

With a mischievous smirk, Patrick hugged your shoulders when he saw a glimpse of sadness in your beautiful, big eyes, and you couldn't help but smile timidly at David's comment:

"Look at them, just two lovebirds."

"Oh, shut up," Bateman blurted out jokingly. "Being jealous isn't a good thing."

Van Patten rolled his eyes at Patrick's remark, but immediately lost interest when the girl next to him leaned down to his neck and whispered something.

"Patrick?" You called his name so softly that it elicited a muffled gasp from his broad chest.

"Yes, dear?" He replied, looking at you lovingly and moving even closer so that you could whisper in his ear.

"When are we going home?"

"Do you want to go?" He 'accidentally' touched your cheek with his perfectly shaped nose, making your heart skip a beat.

"No, I was just asking."

"It's not a problem, honey." Bateman leaned even closer to kiss the area behind your ear. "Besides. I'm starving."

"But we just ate." You almost squealed when he discreetly pinched your thigh under the table, his dark grin sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him.

“You know what I mean, babydoll.” He crooned in a low voice, not giving a fuck about how attentively his coworkers were looking at both of you.

“I–” You wanted to talk back to him, but he suddenly cut you off, standing up and removing the napkin from his knees.

“Gentlemen, sorry, but we have to go.”

“So soon? What happened, Bateman?” Craig tried to sound sassy, but when he didn’t get any attention, his face went plain.

“Don’t worry, McDermott. We will get back to our conversation one day.” Patrick winked at him and offered you a hand, expecting you to take it. When you did, he pressed a brief kiss on the back of your hand.

Tim whistled at the sight and you ignored him, but you couldn't stop Patrick from shamelessly grabbing your ass as you two were leaving.

“Have fun, Bateman. But don’t make your neighbors call the cops.” Bryce added, making everyone laugh. Frowning, you looked at Patrick, expecting him to say something that would calm his coworkers down.

“I’ll call them if you don’t return those porn videotapes I gave you last week.” Bateman crooned with a cheeky smile and after that, he led you to the exit, so you could only catch a glimpse of Timothy’s blank face before you eventually left Dorsia.

In the taxi you both remained silent. You couldn't help but feel a little offended by the way his colleagues behaved, and the thing you hated the most was that you knew that if you told Patrick about it, he would just shrug it off and say that there was nothing special about it.

"Honey?" Bateman suddenly interrupted your train of thoughts with his playful voice, as if he could read your mind. Sometimes it was even scary how perfectly he could sense your mood.

"You have terrible friends, you know that?" You replied, disregarding his flirtatious tone.

With a cocky chuckle, he wrapped his hand around your shoulder when he saw you crossing your arms defensively over your chest.

"Well, I know they're not the greatest people..." He paused, wondering what to say to cheer you up.

"And I don't like it when you treat me like I'm one of those stupid bimbos," you finally turned to him and pushed his hand away harshly. "How many times do I have to explain this to you and—"

His tight grip on your throat made you choke for air, and you nearly shrieked at his unexpected roughness.

"I think you've forgotten who's in charge here, little girl." Patrick growled into your ear, and you thanked God that the partition in the taxi was closed. "How many times have I told you I don't like this kind of attitude?"

Closing your eyes, you whimpered from lack of oxygen and tried to say something, but he didn't even give you the chance to do it as he covered your mouth with his greedy one. Bateman reveled in all your muffled, pitiful sounds, kissing you hard while his other hand slipped under your dress to possessively get a handful of your soaked pussy. Damn it! Instead of being scared, you were so fucking aroused and that only made the whole situation worse, because after Patrick let go of you, he sneered in the most arrogant way and brought his long fingers, coated in your flavor, to his lips to taste it.

"Don't ever compare yourself to those bitches," he reminded you, fixing the hem of your dress and gently stroking your leg; his face softened as he let out a disappointed sigh. "After all, I missed you so much, (y/n). And I thought you missed me, too."

"I missed you, I really did!" You panicked a little. Patrick was such a master of manipulation, a few moments ago you had accused him and his friends of having bad manners, and now you felt guilty about making that scene.

"So why did we have this shitty conversation about my colleagues and their whores instead of talking about us?" Patrick replied in a challenging tone, his big palm was still on your knee, but this time you didn't dare to brush it away.

"Because it makes me sad!" You blurted out and looked at him, now staring at the scenery through the taxi window.

"Fine, I won't take you to dinners like these anymore." His annoyed voice echoed in your ears, and you couldn't help but feel your heart breaking at his comment. You lowered your head down and cried, barely audible, but somehow Bateman immediately noticed.

"Are you crying, (y/n)? Seriously?"

"Patrick, maybe I should go home? I don't feel well and I don't want to disappoint you with—"

"Enough of this bullshit, okay?" He suddenly pressed you against his chest, letting you hug him around his waist. "I'm not letting you go, not now, not ever."

Where was your good mood and that sparkle that set your body on fire when you were in the restaurant? God, you hated yourself for acting like that, but his friends — those stupid yuppies — always made you sick to the stomach, but this time you really had lost your patience. And even though you calmed down now and hid your face in the crook of Patrick's neck, the tension between the two of you was still in the air, and you didn't really know what to expect when you arrived at his place.

After almost an hour, you were sitting on his big bed, completely naked and still shivering — you could still feel his touch on your most sensitive spots as Bateman had just washed you in the bathtub, rubbing and massaging you everywhere.

When you heard a soft click of the bedroom door, you raised your eyes to see him coming in, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other, his red tie loosened and some of the top buttons undone.

"How do you feel, babydoll?" Patrick asked you teasingly, shaking the glass in his hand and leaning against the door.

You swallowed hard when his super dark eyes glided over your exposed curves, and you had to hold back your rapid breathing, because you were so damn excited. " Much better, thank you."

Bateman let out a low chuckle before placing his drink on the shelf and coming a little closer to you, puffing on his cigar.

"Good," he smiled and blew a few rings of smoke. "Now show Daddy how you learned to use my gift."

His words forced the blood in your veins to curse faster, making your skin burn from the inside out. With a loud gasp, you lay on the bed, leaning on your elbows and spreading your legs wide, so he could see your succulent pussy.

As soon as you did so, Bateman clenched his chiseled jaw and almost bit down on the cigar, but he kept watching your little hand slide between your thighs, and when it reached your soaped slit, he couldn't help but growl — he'd been rock hard all this time, but now it was getting really painful.

"P-Patrick, I'm scared..." you whimpered abruptly, taking the pink silicone dildo — the one that has been laying beside you on the bed — and rubbing it along your taut lower lips to lubricate it. "It's so embarrassing."

"Oh, I know, honey. I know," he purred in his usual seductive voice, and unbuttoned his blue shirt. "But you don't have to be embarrassed. Trust me, baby, Daddy knows what's best for you."

Damn, that was too much.

Gulping and closing your eyes, you threw your head back and tried to let it go, placing the dildo at your dripping entrance, and the next second you cried out from the feeling of fullness as you pushed it deep into your womb.

"Such a good girl."

"D-Daddy!" You let out a high-pitched wail, focusing on his raspy voice as you were too embarrassed to open your eyes.

"Go on," Bateman exhaled sharply, putting the cigar in the ashtray, and then he unzipped his pants, his hot flesh literally pulsating. "You make Daddy so proud."

"Mhhm," his words made you arch your back, and you began to pump yourself with the sex toy, sensing a tight knot forming in your lower abdomen. "Pat-Patrick, please… talk to me!"

He didn't answer at first as he continued to undress, slowly stroking his engorged cock. "Ahhh, this is so fucking sweet," Patrick grunted, smearing his pre-cum around his swollen tip. "Can't do anything without my guidance, am I right, my babydoll?"

"Awww—yes," you gasped, your legs already shaking. "N-need you, Daddy! Need you so much…!"

At that moment, you didn't care about anything in the world, just the buzzing feeling in your core. There was only one person who could give you that vital release you needed so desperately, and you were more than ready to beg him if he asked you to.

"You know what," Bateman murmured as he finally undressed and joined you on the bed, and when you felt his big palm on your hip, you thought you were going to combust, but he gently stroked your cheek, soothing you a little, whispering: "Shh, my little one. Not yet."

You literally writhed on the sheets like a trapped kitten, afraid to breathe, afraid to say anything that would ruin this moment.

"Patrick..."

"Yes, dear... I'm here," he covered your hand with his bigger one, pushing the dildo even deeper, making you scream. "That's it, that's how you do it!"

"Awww, oh my GOD!" you tried to close your legs as the friction became too intense and Bateman just snickered at your pathetic attempt to stop him, so he just grabbed your throat and yanked it a little against the bed. "D-Daddy, it hurts!"

"Oh yeah?" Patrick couldn't hide his excitement when he saw your eyes watering, but his inner beast craved more. "I really wanted to be nice to you today, but you made me change my mind."

"Ahhh!" You clawed at his hand, which was choking you hard, but this man was too strong. "I'm... I'm s-sorry! I'M SO SORRY!"

The way he shoved the dildo into your bruised cunt was so fucking brutal that for one second you blacked out as the apex of it hit your cervix pretty brutally.

When you opened your eyes and yours met his, all you could see was lust mixed with rage. Huffing, Bateman suddenly moved down to your face to nip at your lips, then suck them and lick your cheekbone as he relished having such control over you. With a devilish grin, he continued to squeeze your neck, forcing you to fuck yourself with the dildo that was now completely covered in your juices.

"Do you hear that sound?" He taunted you, hovering over you and pressing you down with his massive muscles. "You're dripping like a fucking waterfall! So don't try to pretend you're not enjoying it, slut!"

"I'm going to explode!" Was all you could manage to scream as your whole body tensed like a spring.

"Awww, you're going to cum from fucking yourself with a cheesy sex toy, what a pathetic little whore!" Patrick almost barked these words in your face, but then he suddenly released your neck and went down to your collarbone, leaving wet, red marks here and there. "Keep going and don't you dare stop!"

Your eyes rolled back in your head when his wet tongue began to play with your swollen nipples, not to mention when he took one of them into his mouth and sucked it so eagerly that you cried out in pain. Trembling, you let him use your hand to set the pace, your inner walls aching every time the dildo brushed hard against them.

When Bateman noticed that your little frame was quivering too much, he quickly slipped down between your legs to suck on your clit and holy shit, he was so good at it, he definitely knew what he was doing.

"I—mhm, I'm gonna cum… Daddy, p-pleaseeee!" You were no longer moaning — at this point you were literally screaming, and your throat was burning, but that only spurred him on to eat you more fiercely.

"Mmmm, I've been thinking about tasting this pussy," he tugged on your sensitive bud before swirling his tongue around it. "For so fucking long."

Another deep thrust, followed by his merciless lapping at your oversensitive cunt, made your orgasm wash over you like a huge ocean wave. Shaking, your half-opened mouth froze in a silent cry as all your insides spasmed too intensely, and this sensation lasted so long that you almost fainted.

"Jesus, what a dirty girl you are," Patrick chuckled after he pulled away from your pussy and removed the dildo, his face covered in your wetness, it was literally running down his chin. "Look at that, you fucking cummed all over my face!" He forced you to look at him, and your dazed glance coaxed a loud chuckle from him. "You think I'm done with you?"

"I..." You tried desperately to pull yourself together, but the overstimulation hit you so hard that your brain refused to function at all.

"Yes, I'm talking to you!"

"Aww, w-wait!" You wailed loudly as he grasped your head and forced you closer to the edge of the bed. "Daddy!"

"Don't you 'Daddy' me," his ominous intonation was kinda scary, but you had no choice but to submit. "Don't worry, honey... I'm just going to play with your mouth a little..."

With a quick thrust, he pushed himself into your mouth, since you didn't really have any power to protest. Although it would have been pointless to do it anyway. You expected him to face fuck you really hard, but instead Bateman gently took your chin for support as his hips began to move faster, petting your head each time his red, swollen tip hit your throat.

"Arghh, your mouth feels so good, I missed that."

Patrick stroked your cheek almost lovingly, ignoring the way that you were almost gagging on his thick cock, savoring his cum and keeping eye contact with him. Grunting, he didn't last long as he collapsed into your mouth, rolling his hips and spilling his sticky liquid deep down your throat, and you didn't make any pathetic sounds, no whimpering or sobbing — you just took what he gave you. With your eyes closed, you drank him dry and heard him murmur:

"For now, I forgive you."

Slowly, Bateman pulled out from your abused mouth, leaving a trail of his cum and letting a few drops fall on your breasts.

"Clean them," he pointed at your tits, pumping his still hard cock and watching you catch the drops of his cum with your fingers. "Now get on your knees and spread your legs wide."

Whimpering, you obeyed and Patrick didn't waste any time, positioning himself behind you and wrapping his strong hands around your waist.

"Ahhh, Patrick..."

"Shush," he cut you off, rubbing his creamy cock between your ass cheeks. "I'm not going to fuck you in the ass, even though you really deserve it."

He rammed into your aching pussy without any mercy, stretching you even more from the inside and making you cry, your hands helplessly creasing the sheets beneath you.

"IT HURTS! AW!" You squealed as he pinned you down, forcing you to lie on your stomach as he trapped you under his massive body, relentlessly drilling your little hole.

"What? My dick is way bigger than that dildo, huh?" Bateman mocked you shamelessly, the slapping sound your bodies made was like music to his ears. "Ohh, what a poor little girl… mmhhm… I promise you… by the end of this night you will be so fucking full of my cum — that it will pour out, but I won’t stop… even if you beg me to!"

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

1K notes · View notes

astraystayyh · 2 months

Text

Burning in the winter wind

changbin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. hurt/comfort but it’s a light fluffy read!! college!au. lowkey romcom vibes (i tried 😭) wc: 4.4k)

summary : Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.

a.n: sahar finally writing a fic that doesn’t take an emotional turn… we cheered!!!!!!!!!!!!! my 3rd fic for the winter falls collab with my writer :,) if u haven’t checked out xi’s fics yet what are u waiting for!!!!! please enjoy reading, i hope you’ll like this one too <3 i love you muah

“Are you okay?”

It is quite difficult to roll your eyes when your face is pressed against the snow, you’ve found, so much so you're sure you’re breathing in dainty snowflakes rather than the intended oxygen.

A dull pain emanates from your right ankle, the very one you just twisted while attempting to ski down a sled, making you plummet head-first into the hard ground. Despite how soft snow looks as it blankets the earth in a pristine white, it is quite incapable of cradling your fall. Instead, its snowflakes seem to liquefy, filtrating through your clothes and making a biting cold cascade down your spine.

Clearly, you are far from okay; hence, your eyes roll in a silent protest at the stranger’s questioning, though they cannot see you. If you further bury your head in the snow and do not move, would they think you are a collective hallucination and spare you the embarrassment of helping you?

“Um, should we call an ambulance?”

Clearly not.

“I'm peachy!” you throw a thumbs-up in the air, not bothering to lift your face off of the ground, you’re sure that by now the blank canvas beneath you has reluctantly molded itself to the contours of your face.

Much prettier than a snowman, you’d personally argue.

“Are you sure?” the tentative voice quips up again and you suddenly feel bad for ignoring this passerby, now stuck comforting an odd person whose limbs are not adequately crafted for skiing.

“Yeah,” you finally turn around, realizing that the pain in your ankle will not disappear, even if you choose to ignore it. “Just resting, on the snow. The view is nice from here, you know.”

The stranger backs away subtly at your words, and you chuckle inwardly.

“I got it.” Someone else speaks from your left and their voice carries a familiarity that drapes an uncomfortable weight atop your lungs. You pivot your head incredibly slowly, locking eyes with none other than Changbin.

You scoff outwardly.

“Need help?” he asks, hovering above you like a shadow.

Changbin was once your partner in a lab chemistry project, he is also the one person you now avoid most in college.

So, you do what any sensible person would in your place— you turn away, once again pressing your face into the comforting oblivion of the snow.

“I… can still see you.” His words linger, hesitating in the crisp winter wind, and you respond with a (now more effortless) roll of your eyes.

“I know.”

“Then, what are you doing?”

“If I pretend you are not here long enough, will you finally tire and leave me alone?”

“No.”

“Fine,” you huff, turning back once more. You summon the resolve to finally push your torso up from the pits of your embarrassment, before glancing down at your ankle, only to find that it has doubled in size. An angry scream bubbles up in your throat, but you will yourself to tame the fire within— if you think slightly more about your situation, you’d burst into tears right here and then.

“That needs to be treated,” Changbin states simply, his eyes also locked on your injury. You shut your eyes closed, forcing a deep breath to travel through your lungs. The oxygen you just inhaled seems only to fuel your anger more.

“I actually think it’s fine,” you put on the brightest smile on your face, yet your eyes refuse to follow the movement of your lips, making you look like a catatonic doll. You hope that’s enough to make Changbin go away.

“Who are you lying to?” he cocks an eyebrow at you.

You’re wrong. Again.

His self-assured tone further aggravates you, so you will yourself to stand up, wincing as soon as your right foot touches the floor. You bite your lip hard enough to draw out blood, the metallic taste of it coating your tongue uncomfortably.

“See, I can stand!” you say cheerfully and he crosses his arms before his chest, clearly unimpressed. “Try walking.”

“I actually wanna stay here.”

“Still as stubborn, I see,” he sighs, before bending his knees slightly. Next thing you know, you’re scooped up in his arms, your hands wrapping around his neck instantly.

“What are you doing?” you ask incredulously, eyes darting furiously over his face.

“Carrying you to the infirmary.”

“I can see that,” you say between your teeth. “I said I'm fine.”

“You clearly aren’t.”

“What are you? an ankle expert?”

“When your parents own the ski resort you kind of become one,” his eyes meet yours once, still as emotionless as they’ve always been when they gaze at you.

“Do your parents own this?” you clear your throat, surprise overtaking your tone.

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell them to upgrade my room to a suit, then?” you bat your eyelashes at him, your smile as sweet as saccharin.

“You literally buried your head in the snow two minutes ago because you wanted me gone.”

“Exactly,” you nod vigorously, “that was two minutes ago, I am a changed person now.”

“Yeah?” he smirks slightly, the corners of his mouth almost tugging upwards. “What changed?”

You shrug as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I didn't know your parents owned the resort.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“It's not broken, thankfully, just sprained. You need to ice it, and not put any pressure on it. Keep your leg elevated at all times, and avoid walking at all costs.” Maria’s voice reaches your ears in waves, the pain in your ankle making it harder to grasp what she’s instructing you to do. Still, you easily understand that all your winter break plans are now officially ruined.

“But I wanna ski,” you pout at the fifty-something nurse who smiles sympathetically at you, handing you a cooling balm.

“You shouldn’t have fallen then.” Changbin deadpans before she can reply and your right eye squints in annoyance. Maria catches it and winks at you.

“You shouldn’t have fallen then,” you mimic, voice high-pitched. He simply shakes his head, a ghost of a smile appearing for a second on his lips, before disappearing promptly.

“Thank you, Maria,” he bows slightly, his voice sounding kinder when it speaks to everyone but you.

“Welcome, baby,” she squishes his cheeks before patting them gently, and you stifle a giggle at the blush sprouting on his face.

Maria leaves the room, stating that she has another patient to check up on. Your eyes remain downcast, glaring at your ankle as if it’ll scare your body back to health.

“You'll burn a hole into your skin at this rate,” he comments, his hand suddenly appearing in your line of view. You sigh in defeat before reaching for his hand, intertwining fingers as he aids you in rising. His arm becomes a secure anchor around your waist as he guides you toward the elevator. There, he inputs a code on a small panel before pressing button 44.

“That's not where my chamber’s at.”

“I know, I had them move your stuff to the penthouse,” he explains simply as your heart skips a traitorous beat.

“Actually? I was just kidding; I don't want an upgraded room.”

“I wanted to,” his eyes locked on yours, a myriad of stars seemingly swimming in his pupils. “It has easier access for you since it opens up directly in the room.”

“I'll pay you back. How much is the difference?”

He leans in, whispering a six-figure number in your ear and you feel your knees buckle underneath you.

“That much?” your face pales and he nods. “You still want to pay me back?”

A nervous chuckle leaves you as you lock eyes with the camera in the elevator, “thank you Mrs. Seo for the gift,” you bow down to the best of your capacity. “Thank you, Mr. Seo.”

The penthouse is much more spacious than your previous room, vast windows framing breathtaking vistas of pristine mountains. The sound of a crackling fireplace tames the fire within you, morphing it into a harmless ember rather than scorching flames, soothing your soul. A chandelier right above the bed casts a warm glow on the room, that softens your heart and makes you less resentful towards the snow.

“Here,” he sits you down on the edge of the bed, before heading to the mini-fridge across from the room. He takes out a packet of ice before promptly kneeling in front of you.

“It'll be a little cold,” he reassures before placing the ice on your wound. the sarcastic retort you had withers at the tip of your tongue, like a candle flame blown away by a gentle breeze; because Changbin is being gentle to you right now. his eyebrows scrunching as he makes sure not to hurt you even more, his fingers encircling just above your ankle to hold you in place. Clad in his black hoodie and joggers, the tenderness of his touch is an echo of softness from days long past.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hoping your voice would get lost in the crinkling of the wood. It doesn’t, as Changbin looks up at you, pausing his movements. “For helping me,” you add, “you didn’t have to do it.”

“It's okay. You’re not a stranger, so…” he trails off, as a buried bitterness floods your throat, akin to downing a shot of acid. You withdraw your ankle from his hold, taking the ice packet from him.

“You can go, I got it,” you smile, yet your eyes flee away from him, refusing to catch his gaze, refusing to peer into that same void that once lured you in.

“Fine. I'll come check on you later.”

As Changbin swiftly exits the penthouse, you sink into the mattress, hands pressed against your forehead, squeezing tight. to Seo Changbin, you were not a stranger. To you, he might have been everything, once.

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

You first met Changbin on the stage of your nationwide rap contest, held within the confines of your campus.

You did not know he was, but you were instantly captivated by his incendiary stage presence, and so was everyone around you, gleaming eyes turned unanimously toward him, the air ablaze with loud cheers erupting like a bubbling volcano. The question at the tip of your tongue was a natural one— “Who the fuck is this gorgeous man?”

It was as though he had sensed your inquiry, because soon after he concluded his rap with a boastful line— “They call me,” a pause, his eyes meeting yours, “Seo Changbin,” he finished, a subtle smirk painted on his lips, as if he knew that his name would become a golden trademark, one that the music world would remember for generations to come.

His gaze lingered on you, but you did not shy away from it, you’ve never been one to run away from the things you want. Instead, you smiled at him, a toothy grin that left your cheeks slightly aching afterward.

He did not return the gesture fully, but the corners of his lips did tug upwards, as he dipped his head slightly forward in thanks.

Cute.

You stayed back long enough to witness Changbin accept his well-deserved first place award, clad in his gray joggers, a snug black tank top, and atop it a deconstructed hoodie boasting enticing holes on the side, giving you a generous view of his sculpted muscles. His silver chains glimmered under the resounding flashes, and you felt a surge of pride at this stranger basking in the spotlight.

Your smile only grew wider as Chan and Jisung ran to him, encircling him in his arms and shaking him with palpable happiness. Thunderous cheers erupted, a chorus of voices chanting 'Seo Changbin' at the top of their lungs.

His name will stay with you long after that.

“So, is he single?” you inquired casually a few days later in the university cafeteria, three cups of iced americano placed before you, Chan’s extra sweetened. The latter looked up from his phone, eyes slightly widening, before leaning in.

“You like Changbin?” he asked incredulously and you squint your eyes, moving even closer to him.

“Why? Shouldn’t I?”

“I'm just surprised because you’ve never liked any of the guys I introduced you to.”

“Because they’re all douchebags who can’t keep up with me,” you declared, tossing your hair over your shoulder as Chan smiled amusedly.

“Hey! He introduced me to you,” Jisung chimed in from your left and you rolled your eyes, patting his shoulder reassuringly. “We’re better off as friends, Ji.”

That was true, your first, and last date with Jisung, ended up with you ordering sushi and laughing at your Tinder matches at an empty parking lot. He's been one of your closest friends ever since.

“Are we?” Jisung made obnoxious kissing noises and you faked a gag, pinching his arm. Han retaliated by yelling so loudly the entirety of the cafeteria turned to look at you. Chan attempted to cover his face with his palm, a desolated look painted on his features.

“Anyways,” Jisung cleared his throat once he settled again, “he is single. But he’s not looking for anything right now.”

“Maybe he just hasn’t looked at me yet.”

Fate seemed to be on your side because Changbin did look at you after that. Your professor Kim, an unwitting cupid, paired you with him for your chemistry project, and for the following month, you found yourself meeting Changbin every day in the college laboratory, to work on the synthesis and characterization of aspirin.

Changbin was different from anyone you’ve ever taken a liking to. He did not stir violent butterflies in your stomach, nor made your palms sweat endlessly from nerves. Instead, he infused a peculiar serenity within you, enough to make you eagerly count down the minutes until your next meeting.

Contrary to the fiery persona he unleashed on stage, Changbin exuded a calming aura that held you captive each time he drew near. It was impossible to divert your gaze from him, especially when his loose curls cascaded perfectly over his dark brown eyes, ones framed by thick-rimmed black glasses. His scent, a captivating blend of pinewood and spices, lingered like a second skin on your body, trailing after him and enveloping you in its embrace, long after he was gone.

He felt like a winter wind brushing against your skin—strong enough to be felt, yet cool enough to be craved by each one of your senses.

You sensed his gaze upon you as well, felt the subtle brush of his hand against your spine when he moved around you, unnecessary yet deliberate. How he brought you hot chocolate every time you met up to warm up your icy fingers. He was sweet and caring; in a way you’d only notice if you paid attention to the things said silently.

Yet, he remained an enigma—warm on certain days, cold on others. It seemed as if he restrained himself from growing comfortable in your presence, as if you were a bad weed that’d spread through his roots if he dared approach you. Or maybe that was how he viewed himself— a delicate shell with a void inside, guarding itself against any perceived threat.

Who was Changbin, truly? What did he like and dislike? Why did he withhold his smiles, stifle his laughter, and avert his eyes after just a fleeting glance at you? Why did he draw near only to retreat each time you attempted to get close? The questions swirled in your mind, creating a tapestry of curiosity that begged to be unraveled by his hands.

“Wanna come to karaoke with me and hang out tonight?” Chan asked a week after the end of your chemistry project. You hummed non-convincingly, nose buried in your newly purchased book.

“Changbin might come too,” he sang-sung and you quickly perked up, much more interested in his plans now. He snorted at your reaction, and in response, you playfully flashed him your prettiest middle finger.

Chan's disbelief was right though. It was unusual of you to be so expectant of someone’s presence, for your gaze to flee to the door every two seconds awaiting their entrance.

Despite your high hopes, Changbin did not come that night, and as much as you tried to have fun, a sense of disappointment tainted your mood. That, and the realization that he wasn't a mere crush, but something much more to you. The man you couldn’t get a read on was already coursing through your veins when you thought he had only stopped at the surface of your skin.

Muttering a quick excuse about needing some fresh air, you left the karaoke booth, exhaling heavily, the warmth of your breath translating into silver gusts of air in the chilly night. As you descended the stairs, however, your ankle twisted on the slippery ice, and you found yourself falling, bottom-first, onto the unforgiving concrete.

An ugly sob caught in your throat as hot tears streaked down your cheeks, your palm now scraped and bloody from the impact of the fall, in a useless attempt to soften the blow.

“Let me see,” someone crouched in front of you, and you gasped softly as your eyes met Changbin's concerned gaze.

“Oh god, this is so embarrassing,” you admitted, clasping your eyes shut as he gently held your injured hand in his own, blowing air into the open cuts to soothe their burn.

“I didn't see anything,” he reassured, his tone overly sweet, and you squint your eyes at his obvious lies. “Definitely did not see you trip over nothing,” he added, a teasing smirk drawn on his lips.

“Hey!” you punched his arm playfully and he laughed, full-blown high-pitched giggles you did not think Changbin, out of everybody you knew, would be able to conjure. His eyes were squinted close, his apple cheeks raising higher as he laughed some more, and you felt an electrifying warmth flowing through your being. Suddenly, you were burning in the winter wind.

Suddenly, you wanted to confess.

“Did you just get possessed by a five-year-old girl?” you teased as his laughter quieted down, the smile refusing to leave his face, yet. His eyes softened as they found yours, a simple hum leaving his lips in reply. He applied some pressure on your ankle, checking if it is swollen, but that was the last thing you cared about. The sight of Changbin smiling so freely still running through your mind, again and again. You replayed it enough times since to make sure it was safely guarded in your memory, that the long march of time may not wear it down, graining its delicate edges.

“You should smile more,” you said softly and he looked up at you, a twinkle of gratitude gleaming in his eyes.

“Your ankle is fine. Stay here, okay? I have a first aid kit in my car.” He didn’t wait for you to reply as he jogged up to his vehicle, and you sighed, heart clenching at how affected you were by his simple touches.

“It will sting a little,” he spoke gently once he returned, before dabbing up your cut slightly with an alcohol-drenched pad. You hissed softly and he frowned, pausing in his tracks. “Okay?”

“Mm,” you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips, “Okay.”

He continued cleaning your cuts, before applying a cooling cream on it and wrapping it in a clean gauze. He hesitated for a few seconds and your breath hitched as he leaned forward, placing the faintest kiss on your palm.

“Healing kiss,” he said shyly, a blush blooming on his face and you giggled, bringing his hand to rest upon your cheek.

“I like you, Changbin,” you said truthfully, simply, even as your heart thudded in your chest. “Tell me, should I stop? I don't want to hurt myself.”

“I…” he began, his words trailing off, interrupted by Chan walking out of the karaoke booth.

“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked, worry clearly dripping from his tone and you cursed inwardly. You loved Chan but you’ve never been more annoyed to see him. Your eyes flee tentatively to Changbin as Chan takes your hand in his, inspecting it.

“Let's go inside, it’s freezing here,” Chan pulled you up and you nodded, as Changbin followed suit, before he stopped you by the door, his hand on your arm. “Come over tomorrow, please? We can talk then.”

“Sure,” you smiled and he nodded, swiping his thumb soothingly along your wrist. “Thank you,” he whispered, before walking inside.

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

The landline ringing snaps you away from that long-buried memory, as it disappears before your eyes like morning mist. You rub your forehead tiredly before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hello, I would like to inform you that we'll be coming up with food service shortly,” the sweet receptionist announces in a cheery tone, and you furrow your brow.

“I did not order anything, though.”

“It is on the house. Enjoy your food!” she explains gleefully before hanging up.

On the house meaning it is Seo Changbin's treat. You couldn't help but scoff at the array of food presented before you minutes later, including that damned hot chocolate he always used to bring you, complete with marshmallows on top and colorful sprinkles because why settle for plain when you could have rainbows in your drink.

“He remembers,” ou whisper to yourself before sighing. What was the point of him remembering now? Every bit of hope you had was dismantled two months ago, akin to a hopeful dandelion blown away by the bitter wind.

You bite your lip, contemplating for a few seconds before finally dialing Changbin’s number.

“The food will get cold. Come quickly. I won't wait for you,” you mumble before hanging up and tossing your phone away.

A few minutes later, Changbin enters your room, his cologne still following him like a second shadow. You avoid his eyes as you dig into the seafood pasta, the one he ordered for you.

“Good?” he asks, and you glance at him from the corner of your eye. "Yeah, good."

“Are you okay?” he inquires, taking a bite of the pepperoni pizza.

You knew he was asking about your ankle, and yet, in this moment, sitting on the floor of the penthouse Changbin upgraded for you, eating the food he bought after tending to your injury, you suddenly no longer cared about the state of your body. Instead, an exasperation built up in your throat, directed towards the man who had left you hanging many nights ago.

“You confuse me,” you say honestly, putting down your fork and he frowns. “I confuse you?” he repeats incredulously.

“Yes. You always confuse me and I hate it.” Sudden tears threaten to well in your eyes and you groan, burying your face in a pillow to hide it.

“I can't believe you are saying this,” he whispers, pushing away his plate and you scowl, lowering your silky shield.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You never came, y/n,” His voice, draped in heavy emotion, catches you off guard like a sudden storm in the calm of the night. “I waited and waited for you and you never came.”

“I came,” you say quietly, the hurt suddenly feeling fresh within the confines of your heart. “At the wrong time, maybe the right one, I don't know. But I came.”

“What?”

“I came to your dorm only to see you kissing a girl’s cheek and hugging her by your door. You told her you missed her and to come later once you sorted something out. Was I… What? supposed to enter and sit there to hear you reject me?” You say quickly, finally releasing the words that had long haunted you.

An incredulous laugh escapes his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, slightly pulling at its edges. “My god, that was my sister.”

“What?”

“She came over unannounced that morning. I actually told her she can't stay the night because I had someone important coming over. That someone being you,” he explains and you feel hot embarrassment flood your being, then relief. For what, exactly? Wasn’t it too late?

“How was I supposed to know?” you ask defensively and his eyes widen as he comes closer to you.

“You could’ve asked me!”

“I was embarrassed because I put my heart bare to you. I told you I liked you when I wasn't even sure you liked me back.”

“Of course, I liked you back.” His voice softens as if it were a truth known to everyone but yourself.

“Then why were you so… distant.”

“Because you scared me, you came into my life unannounced and everything changed around me,” he pauses, a shaky breath escaping him. “Because I wasn’t looking for anything but it turns out I just didn’t know to look for you yet.”

You giggle against your will at his words, shaking your head slightly. “That's exactly what I told Chan when I asked if you were single.”

“See, soulmates,” he grins, satisfied, and you feel tingles pulsate through your entire being at his words.

“Slow down Mr. Seo. We are not even dating yet.”

“Yet? So, is there still a chance?”

“I…” your phone rings and you let out a loud groan as you peek at who's calling— Chan.

“You have the actual worst timing ever dude,” Changbin nearly screams into the phone and you can clearly hear Chan’s confused voice asking “Changbin? Where is yn?”

Changbin hangs up on him without answering, before putting your phone on silent. Then his, for good measure.

“It's like he’s my archnemesis or something,” Changbin sighs and you laugh, amused by his exasperation.

“So,” he clears his throat, a bit shyly, “can we start again? Properly?”

“I don't know… I need to see if something’s still there…” you muse and he cocks an eyebrow at you, leaning even closer.

“And how will you do that?”

You throw your hands around his neck, before resting your cheek on the slate of his shoulders. He remains still for a few heartbeats, only to tighten his hold on you, his lips delicately grazing the exposed canvas of your neck.

“I knew it, you smell nice, and you are really warm,” you sigh contently, closing your eyes as a soothing peace wash over you, all the worries you harbored dissipating at his warmth.

“You smell really nice too,” he whispers and a grin lights up your face.

“I can hear you smiling,” you point out, leaning away slightly to look at him.

“I’m happy.”

“That's cute.”

“You’re cuter,” he says, nuzzling your nose with his own. “Your total for the food is 160 dollars by the way.”

“Can I pay back with my kisses?” you smile cheekily, bringing your lips a hair breadth away from his.

He’s breathless as he finally presses his mouth on yours, “Please do.”

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