Can We.. Can We Talk About How Good And Beautifully Written This Is???
can we.. can we talk about how good and beautifully written this is???
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝
genre: smut, fluff
pairing: artist!hyunjin x fem!artist!reader
wc: 5.9k
warnings: LOTS of tension, piv /unprotected sex and cumming inside, otherwise hella soft and lovely :3
Your footsteps halled through the emptied rooms of the University building you were so used to walking by, so familiar with. Every painting and sculpture – fragile sculptures, that you passed by oh so carefully, not daring to damage them in any way – were as though engraved in your mind, the gentle strokes and lines of colour placed so delicately onto every work, and you knew them all by heart. A smile crossed your lips any time you walked past the halls of the school you were privileged enough to visit, each and every piece of art representing the student’s talents precisely, students and classmates you’ve visited courses with, all different yet connected by one simplicity; the love to create, the wish to pursue an artist’s career.
Right before entering the room you aimed for, you passed one of your very own sculptures presented in the hallways of your art school, something you’ve created for the very first exhibition you were allowed to participate in, the memories of the day flooding your mind any time the art piece met your eyes. Admittedly, not with exceptionally good memories, the pressure and limited time and the judging eyes of teachers and professors wouldn’t let you sleep for days on end. But maybe it was for a good cause, because now that you were at the brick of graduating, experiencing the same old pressure and limited time and having to bear the judging faces or teachers and professors – you were used to it already, didn’t find it all that bad altogether.
Though, of course, the nearly unmanageable amount of work you had to put into your last project, into the sculpture that would decide your by far most important grade was overwhelming, caused you to spend night and day in the studio, the bags under your eyes a constant accompany lately.
You’ve made your way to your assigned seat in the classroom, your half-finished sculpture standing beside the table, wrapped in moist foil to keep the fictile in a shape you could still craft on, even after days of no usage. It was mostly dark around you, the room long fallen into a slumber it seemed, the only source of light the faint rays of the downing sun and desk lights that students forgot to turn off after a day of work. The professors hated that, scolded each and every one the next day at how much electricity that’d cost the school, so whenever you stayed overtime you made an effort to cut off any light source you didn’t need beforehand, simply to not get an earful the next morning.
It hasn’t even crossed your mind that another person could possibly still work that hour, as it was long after closing time already and you’ve always been the last one seen walking the school halls lately. But a couple seats behind yours you could make out a figure, could see eyes looking back at your fearful ones and you took a step back, until the darkened figure got up from its place and started to speak, suddenly, much to your displeasure as fear ran through your veins.
“Oh god, I’m uh- sorry for scaring you, I didn’t know someone else would come here--”
You recognized the tone as a hast one, words speaking a quick reassurance and you noticed you knew the voice, a male voice that you surely were familiar with but not enough to grasp it yet. Your muscles relaxed nevertheless after the wave of shock has washed over you, seeing it was simply another student that decided to voluntarily work additional hours just like you, maybe graduating as well, or just an overachiever.
You chuckled quietly, already finding amusement at just how scared you were moments back, and you were quick to mumble something back to the supposedly classmate that was standing afar from you – you were yet unable to see his face, the dark shadowing out most details in the room.
“Ah no, it’s alright. I just didn’t know…”
Your voice drifted off when the male finally stepped into the dim light of the classroom, revealing his persona, which – you couldn’t lie – made you gasp slightly. It was no other than Hwang Hyunjin, another graduate, not in your class though. You only knew him from friends, and friends of friends, having talked to him only a couple of times, those conversations stored in your memory as nice ones. He was smart and funny, a calm guy who didn’t seem to like the crowds much, always seen by himself or with a small group of friends only. He was undeniably pretty, and you’ve heard hardworking too, and those two qualities alone made him by far the most popular guy in school, making everyone fancy the boy secretly, or so painfully obvious that you’ve sometimes felt bad for him. You weren’t one to deny his attractiveness, nevertheless you have never developed a crush on the student like most others, figuring it must be his popularity that icked you off in a way. Or maybe it was an unintentional voluntarily thing, maybe there were butterflies after all that you wanted to deny, simply to not be one of many who wanted him.
You saw Hyunjin’s face form into a small smile after he recognized you, though his brows were slightly furrowed in confusion, given your unfinished sentence.
“Oh my god, it’s you, you uh- you scared me, I didn’t really think that anyone would like- be here either, yeah.”
You chuckled again as you fought the urge to scrunch up your nose in embarrassment. You wouldn’t particularly call yourself a social butterfly, and though you’ve talked to the boy more than one time already you had to admit that neither of those times you were fully sober, alcohol making most of the conversation as the majority of things you talked about were uni things and professors. You remembered meeting at a get together of first semester students for the first time, and then occasionally afterwards when friends and classmates decided to go out for a drink or two. So yes, right now you were at a loss for words, unsure of how to talk with him, what to talk about.
And if you thought about it, your slight social awkwardness wasn’t the only thing that made you as nervous as you were, that made your palms sweat just the slightest bit, almost unnoticeably. It was Hyunjin’s somewhat strong presence, if you could call it that, a kind of aura that always seemed to circulate him wherever he went, making everyone passing him turn their heads at him. It wasn’t intimidating, nor felt it intentional from his side. It was just there, making him nearly desirable in every sense of the word.
Hyunjin cocked his head, gave you a smile like two acquaintances, mere strangers would give each other, and it was contagious, made you smile back at him.
“Yeah, I’m graduating and I’m- far not done yet… this was the only room open.”
You were aware, on your request you were allowed to use the atelier by night as long as you closed it after and handed over the keys to the professors first thing in the morning, and since that has never went wrong you were trusted by both your teachers and the janitor who was supposed to close all doors by 8pm. For out standers it seemed like special treatment, some students eyeing you whenever you stayed longer to keep working – at the end of the day it was your own decision though, and except Hyunjin you’ve never seen other students stay voluntarily, so if everyone else will lack behind while you’ll have your project ready and done it surely would be their fault, you figured.
After his comment you were unsure as to how you should continue the conversation, so you nodded at him, gave him a smile which you hoped looked like a genuine one and made your way to your seat. Should you restrict on using your headphones for tonight, to not seem rude while the boy was sitting behind, painting away as he did? Or would he start listening to music too, allowing you to dedicate your whole concentration on your sculpture as you so often did, without having the distraction of having to talk to him? Which would sound rude if you spoke it out, but you’d rather finish off early than holding small talk which surely would turn awkward anyways.
But the man started speaking, when he was halfway back at his desk again, leaving you with no option than to converse with him – which again, you had no problem with, you simply feared for the conversation to die out into something embarrassing that both of you had to bear with for the rest of the night while you were working away.
“Oh, this is your sculpture? It caught my eye when I walked in, it- stands out. It’s pretty.”
Hyunjin had a shy undertone in his words, which didn’t make his compliment sound any less genuine, though. He inspected your work, and suddenly you felt nervous, flustered. It wasn’t the first positive comment you’ve received from classmates and friends, yet this particular one, from Hyunjin, felt different. More personal. Which admittedly was ironic, given you barely knew the man.
“Ah, thank you so much. I- uh- I tried.”
You chuckled, and Hyunjin fell into a small fist of giggles as well, your answer more sarcastic than he expected. And though you feared it, the night proceeded with comfortable small talk you and him shared. It wasn’t a serious chat, filled with jokes and laughs, Hyunjin being as funny and witty as you remembered him to be, and talking to him was easy. It felt like you were close friends, almost, teasing at each other from time to time when the other grunted out in frustration about an accidental mistake, trying to fix it while the other merely chuckled at the attempts.
After a while of comfortable silence – you figured that two hours must have passed already, surprised at how fast the time flew while spending it with Hyunjin – the man several seats behind you sighed out in what sounded like frustration, tsking and clicking his tongue frequently while the sound of eraser on canvas filled your ears. Another mistake, you thought, though you decided not to tease this time. It was late, and given that he was a graduate as well, every wrong brush and line of his must be stressing him out to exhaustion – since you didn’t feel any different.
“Hey, you good over there?”
At the sound of your words, intended to help, Hyunjin’s eyes found yours and he chuckled in a somewhat defeated manner before looking back at his piece, eyeing it critically. You’ve realized you haven’t yet asked him what exactly he was working on, though you were of those people yourself who didn’t like others gawking and staring at an unfinished project, especially if it were experts in the same field. And maybe he was the same, so you stopped your curiosity to get the best of you with this one.
“Ugh, I’m not sure, I can’t like-- get the anatomy right on this one, I think.”
The man threw his head back in frustration, long, slender fingers – slightly chalk stained – running through his dark hair, pushing the longish strands out of his face. It bothered you, in a way it shouldn’t be bothering you, your eyes fixed on his hands before you came back to your senses again, quickly, giving your head a slight shake to get rid of the shiver that deemed to run down your spine, for less than a second only, yet you still noticed.
“Uh- can I- can I see what you’re making? Maybe I can help out…?”
Your words were hesitant in a way; though you had to admit that anatomy was essential in what you were doing, and you’d claim that sculpturing years and years on end has taught you to have a decent understanding of it, so maybe he could use your eye after all. And the look Hyunjin gave you only confirmed your suspicion, his eyes almost pleading, already laced with thankfulness as he nodded at you, another sigh leaving his plump lips – you shouldn’t have noticed how puffy they were, how reddened pink his mouth contrasted against his pale skin, yet you did, especially now that you didn’t have a choice but step closer to him.
You tried concentrating on the painting ahead though, which – now that you were directly looking at it, inspecting his work – you could barely take your eyes off it. You knew that whatever he’s been drawing for the past hours you’ve spent together in the atelier must have been nothing but good, yet it overthrew all your expectations; the canvas was huge, which was the first admirable factor you couldn’t possibly overlook, and on it a clearly unfinished though carefully planned out drawing that left you nothing but speechless in its gracefulness – it was only a sketch, yet Hyunjins talent was surely undeniable after only a peek at it. The pencil drawing showed an abstract image of a nude body, unidentifying lines and strokes all around it; you figured those would make more sense the moment Hyunjin would add some color. Parts of the body were left out in the sketch, haven’t been added on yet, and those precisely must be the spots Hyunjin struggled with. Understandably so, the position he chose to draw the woman in a tricky one, surprised he hasn’t been using a reference tonight in the first place, a model, or a picture at least.
“See, the feet right here don’t seem right. I didn’t think it would be too hard, I drew the majority of this with a model anyways, thought finishing this off on my own would be easier than it is.”
So, he did have a model after all, it made sense. Hyunjin cocked his head at his work, showing towards the part he explained to struggle with so you could get a better look at it. He let out another sound of frustration, hands propped up on his thighs as he leaned forward, and back, getting a look at the canvas from different positions. His shoulder blades moved visibly at that, pried up underneath his white shirt, and your eyes have forgotten the painting by now. The muscles in Hyunjin’s arms flexed and relaxed with every other movement he decided to make, and at this point your thoughts went a place elsewhere, too.
“You know, I modelled for references for a bit in my second semester. I could help you-- that way.”
Hyunjin’s head snapped at you, eyes opened in surprise and his ears a bright red; you knew you weren’t off any better. You weren’t quite sure where those words came from, suddenly, unexpectedly, and while you wished that he maybe overheard them; you everything but regretted it. You were embarrassed, shy now that you locked eyes with him, but the anticipation tingled in your fingertips as you expected his answer.
“I mean- if you want. If you’re uh- okay with it; the model is supposed to be- you know- naked.”
In a way, you two were acting bold, increasing the tension in the room to an extent that was soon impossible to let slide. Yet, the shyness and hesitation was nevertheless hard to overhear in Hyunjins words, blush now creeping around his neck and cheeks too – still, he didn’t break the eye contact, held his gaze locked with yours, and you decided to do the same, humming at him in response, giving him your wordless approval. And in that moment neither of you could merely predict what the next minutes would bring, how both of you would handle the ever-rising heat in the atelier, how your relationship would continue after this – would you be smiling at each other in the hallway, or simply look away in an embarrassed manner, shy to even lock eyes with the other in memories to this day?
You both walked over to the small area of sofas and chairs and couches that were scattered in a corner, your movements stiff and fearful almost, yet none of you backed off. Hyunjin brought his canvas alongside, placing it in front of a longish sofa, supposedly the one you’d be laying on, modeling on. The old, rough material of the cushions made you shiver, already thinking about your naked body touching where generations of students have been sitting, eating and drinking on. It shuddered you thinking of it.
And you weren’t sure if Hyunjin perhaps caught a glimpse of your expression, maybe saw how you were eyeing the sofa covered in mysterious dark spots; but the man walked back to where he was seated before, to the back of the classroom, and coming back he had his jacket in his hands, one that was surely too big on you, one that he currently laid onto the sofa carefully before giving you an unsure look.
“Uh, you can lay on that. That thing looks disgusting.”
Hyunjin gave you a chuckle, nervous, but it brightened the tensed atmosphere in the room even if slightly. A sound similar to a chuckle left your lips, and you mustered the creased up jacket he prepared, your stomach turning as you stepped closer to your seat. Hyunjin was doing everything possible to not look at you, it seemed, running around to turn on lights and get his canvas in the right position, or pick up different pencils and erasers that were laying by his desk; all the while he made no eye contact, purposefully avoiding it, and you took it as a sign to get ready yourself; to undress, if you will.
And oh, was it bizarre, the situation as a whole. When you thought about it, you must have gone crazy, the upcoming so strange to your usual behavior, so much bolder than your normally laid back persona. What the hell were you doing, and why? There was no reason to help a colleague, a mere stranger to the extent of undressing before him – though, for a reason you were unable to explain yourself, you felt the pit of your stomach flutter in what must be anticipation, a sign you’ve surely nothing but went crazy.
Your fingertips found the hem of your shirt, and you slid out of it with ease, letting it fall to the ground beneath you. You didn’t dare to even turn around, to peek a glance at Hyunjin, embarrassment coloring your ears already, your face heating up into an impossible the moment your pants and underwear joined the pile of clothing, too, after a while. You were naked, to the bone, and your body felt as though in trance – you were barely able to make your way to the godforsaken sofa, your feet carrying you towards it almost hesitantly, though wanting, needing.
After ages, it felt like, you dared to turn your body, dared to sit down by the corner – bum touching Hyunjins jacket, and you weren’t sure if that’s what he meant when he said you could lay on it. The man in question has not ended his scurrying around, still, his figure making its way through the atelier in what felt like an attempt to spare time, to prolong what both of you couldn’t believe would happen sooner or later.
“Hyunjin-“
Finally, the man stopped in his tracks, finally dared to convert his eyes onto you, your figure; your body. And you'd lie saying it left you cold when you saw his mouth falling agape slightly, when his eyes encountered you, before he sealed his lips again quickly, embarrassed, as if he came back to his senses. You took notice on the way his eyes wandered across your curves for what seemed like a millisecond only, as though not allowing himself to stare, to admire, before he looked back at your face, locking eyes again - and you'd claim to have seen a sort of excitement in them, anticipation maybe - or perhaps it was desire, the thing that's been circulating your mind as well, the very emotion, the very lust that has infiltrated your mind and body long ago, barely allowed you to think straight.
"How- do you want me?"
Hyunjin almost visibly gulped at the question, eyes fluttering in fast blinking as though he awoke off a trance, his body following movements that seemed unnatural, too stiff, too nervous. You didn't intend to make your question sound the way it did, but maybe it wasn't quite you talking, after all, not when Hyunjin looked at you the way he did. He made his way over to the chair, behind his canvas, giving your body a glance that caused you nothing but to shudder. He had an intensity in his presence that you were used to already, hence why all and everyone would swoon over the boy the moment they laid eyes on him. His gaze though, however, was too much, too intimate for you to handle, the depth in his eyes so much more than you could stand out. Your every fibre in you wanted to hide, to lay your hands above your body and cover up, simply to escape the proceeding look of his, a slow inspection he tortured you with. It wasn't to make you feel watched, wasn't to make you insecure - you knew he needed a good look of you to perfect his work, yet it was nothing but mind wrecking, given that he himself was fully dressed.
"Can you lay down? On-- your side, please, and-- cross your legs so your uh-. So you can't see... you know..."
Red color shot onto your face at the sound of Hyunjins stuttering, knowing very well what he must be referring to, his hands motioning to his crotch area vastly, his own ears burning. You took his instructions, hopefully the way he needed it, laying down and crossing your legs, trying to get somewhat comfortable, as much as it was possible. The silk-like underside of the jacket he’s given you was soft against your skin, the reminder that your body laid on it making your palms cover in a film of sweat. And you thought that Hyunjin must have noticed too, how his piece of cloth scrunched up under you, beneath your weight, the way it came in contact with your body, with every bit of it, and it took him longer than usual to get back his composure, it seemed.
A nod from him told you he was happy, roughly, precisely, but not quite yet, not fully. He showed you how to position your hands, your arms, corrected you in the position you laid in, found new imperfections with every closer look he'd take, it seemed.
Not imperfections he made out on you, though – in his eyes, even if you couldn’t possibly see this, you were the perfect model, the most beautiful reference he could wish for. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that you laid naked before him, though your body surely was nothing but distracting, the accent of your chest perking up before the curve to your waist lined the shape of your upper body, rounded hips protruding with the position you laid in. It was hard for him to not lose focus on the flesh of your thighs, how your legs pressed together when you took his instructions, how you obediently stayed in place for him, waiting for his further word. It wasn’t all that, not entirely. It was the look you gave him, as if you wanted this for more than one reason, as if you had another motive up your sleeve other than simply helping him. And your piercing gaze was nothing but screwing with his head, god, his mind would not stop circulating around you.
By the time Hyunjin has started with his work – it has taken both of you long enough to finally figure out the ending pose, with how worked up you felt, how stuffed the air suddenly got, how hot you were – and it was nothing but sensual. The way Hyunjin looked at you, so concentrated to capture your every curve and movement on his canvas, trying to get your body as realistic as possible, as possibly beautiful as you were in his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to feel this way, sensual and intimate as it was; it was a simple task, between art graduates that knew each other merely and lent a hand to the other, nothing more or less. But the tension in the atelier could have been cut through with a knife, if possible, with the way Hyunjin didn’t once dare to forget to lock eyes with you after inspecting your body, and before going back to his sketch. His eyes would find yours always, even if for a second, so quickly you’d miss it if your own gaze wasn’t locked on him too. And you couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for this, didn’t understand how looking for eye contact, and finding it for a fleeing moment, would help him get this done any better, faster. Only if his reasonings were the same as yours, after all, if the turmoil in his own mind and body was as nerve wrecking as yours – lust and needing growing rapidly, with every pencil stroke the man made.
“Just like that, you’re uh- you’re doing really well.”
Hyunjin gave you a smile, sweet and somehow inviting, comforting. Yet his words sent chaos through your brain, your face surely painting a darker color as you blushed, unable to contain the shy smile that crept up your lips. God, he was attractive as he sat there, hands carefully moving his pencil across the whitened canvas, erasing mistakes here and there after inspecting your body intensely once more.
“But…”
Hyunjin hesitated suddenly, his brows furrowed at you, eyes going back between your body and the progress he’s made. Something was off, maybe your position wasn’t quite right anymore, given you’ve laid stiffly for several minutes by now. He got up from his seat, walking over to you. Coming closer, with every slow step he took, your eyes following up the lines of his figure until you were met with his face, the moment he scrunched down to be levelled up with you. Your breath hitched in your throat, the man so close to you suddenly you could nearly feel the heat his body radiated, against the sensitivity of your naked skin.
“Uh- can I just-…”
It seemed like he asked for approval, to touch you, maybe, to correct the perspective. You gave him a nod, a silent agreement, his hands proceeding to wander to the mess of your hair, before you felt his fingers on your scalp. He most likely needed to fix the way it laid, the way it fell above your shoulder, as it could affect parts of his sketching progress; but you felt no ounce of professionalism this very moment, the very bit that was left when the two of you have started surely dissipating into nothingness at this point, slowly but surely. And you nothing but hoped that he felt the same, that maybe Hyunjin would look down at you, would lock eyes with you and maybe screw the project altogether, would allow himself to shortly let his focus go elsewhere – on you.
His hands were fiddling with your strands still, his dark orbs – shimmering slightly in the artificial light of the room – wandered south, to meet your eyes. There was a pause, filled with anticipation, with excitement about the unknowing, with the need to figure out what the other was thinking, if thoughts were shared. Both of you felt the same desire, the same urge to dive in, to lean into each other, yet both of you were too cowardly to act on it this instant. Only shared eye contact, trying to get behind the others mind, to see past whatever you wanted to call this.
Hyunjins eyes fluttered down to the outline of your lips, yours did the same. It was short, the staring contest proceeding as quickly as it got interrupted. Until Hyunjins mouth opened, as though to say something, catching the corner of your eye.
“Is that- alright…?”
Unsure to what exactly he was referring to, you simply nodded. He could mean anything, everything, and you’d be up for it. Now that his scent was infiltrating your mind with the way he hovered over you in an unstable manner, how the neverending touch of his consumed your mind and body – the want for him was stronger than before, stronger than when you first noticed him, than when you first started with this bizarreness of a situation. So whatever it was he meant, you were nothing but alright with it, wanted it.
And luckily for you, Hyunjin was far braver than you, took the initiate the both of you saw anyways. His lips found yours, in a quick moment, hastily, yet the feeling of relief shot through your body, as if the immense tension got finally cut through, as if the air in the atelier got clearer, momentarily. It was a slow kiss, a soft one, as everything Hyunjin seemed to do. The feeling of his puffed up lips felt cloudy against you, and you sighed out in content, in awaiting. You felt Hyunjins hands disconnecting from your hair, finally, finding touch with your body, hesitantly so. It was noticeable in his movements, he was clam and careful, approaching your figure mindfully. While your lips were moving against each other, in a way of getting to know, in a way of exploring, Hyunjins fingertips made sure to stay in place the further he made his way across your curves, as though waiting for a sign of disapproval – only if none was found he kept his travel going.
Your own hands soon had the urge to find contact with the man, too, his shoulders suddenly so inviting, his arms so steady around your figure and against the sofa that you let your fingers dance across them. You felt every dip of muscle on them, felt the bones in his shoulders when you reached them, felt how his back flexed and relaxed in different ways when you let your palms slide up and down. And Hyunjin sighed out at that, his breath hitching when your cold hands came to halt at his skin, by the hem of his shirt. You didn’t allow yourself to make moves he might cut off, so you’ve waited impatiently until he straightened up and tossed the tee over his head himself, the pile of clothes by the sofa adding up.
He was breathtaking like this. Built, but not too much, proportions as though planned out by a higher being. You wanted to sculpt him, wanted to use his body to create art.
Your lips managed to disconnect from his, task harder than it seemed, the kiss you’ve shared until now way rougher, more passionate. You let your mouth travel up and down his neck, giving kitten licks to Hyunjin’s jaw, before finding a spot to bite down at, only slightly, only enough to draw color. He whined at that, and you thought you’d never hear anything prettier, anything more addicting than this.
His hands found their way to your thighs, groping at the flesh, tickling the inner, more sensitive part of them. And it took him only a hum of you, one that sounded like approval, and his fingers were fluttering above your core, finding touch with it slowly, carefully. One finger up and down your slit before the next followed, and by now you couldn’t bear to continue the attack you’ve had on Hyunjins neck, your head now falling back into the harsh cushions, mouth agape lightly. Instead, it seemed like it was his turn now, his kiss bruised mouth finding the bit behind your ear, nibbling and grazing the skin so feathery you barely contained the sounds that sinfully wanted to make their way past your lips. Hyunjins fingertips danced against your clit now, not daring to apply excessive pressure, but teasing you enough to, after all, get to hear the whines and sighs you oh so wanted to quite out.
“Fuck, what are we doing.”
You thought the same thing Hyunjin spoke out, the situation yet not fully settled. Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it were your sleep deprived bodies, your overworked brains. Maybe it was all that, and the desire for each other – after all, it all well could have been nothing at all, and you’d still not complain. You loved this, everything about this, whatever it was, whatever you’d call it.
As an answer to Hyunjins question your hand wandered south, needy fingers teasing at his bulge, feeling painfully hard by now. Another whine passed his lips, his full brows scrunching together, his pleasure distorted face nothing but a sight to see. And thankfully he understood your hint, could read what your movements told him; he got rid of his pants in an instant, impatiently getting them off his body, and finally you were both left uncovered, bare and vulnerable for the other.
You’ve felt Hyunjin stretch you out slowly, and it was hesitant, the way your lips parted during, as if the only thing they’d ever need to do is stay connected. You’ve felt him fill you up, to the hilt, feeling every vein and nib against your walls, and he seemed to touch spots oh so deep within you.
The both of you sounded desperate, sounds of grunts and quiet moans filling the echoes of the atelier, while Hyunjin started to roll his hips against you. It was as if any and everything he did was meant to be agonizingly sensual, and soft, and loving. In the way he moved, in the way he created art, in the way he fucked. It felt so right to you, so infiltrating, you couldn’t get enough.
Hyunjins movements fastened, turned sloppier momentarily while the two of you never stopped sharing kisses, exchanging moans and breath, taking in each other fully. You weren’t in love, not knowingly, but this was all how it seemed. Your breathing started to hitch in your throat more frequently, and Hyunjins grunts seemed to grow louder, filling the room in beautiful sin while you chased after the high, together. Your hands not one left Hyunjins body, always touching, unable to disconnect from the feeling of his skin against you. And he was similar; his hands, much bigger than yours, having a grip on the inside of your thigh, while the other explored elsewhere, your chest, or neck, or waist and hips. It was as if none of you wanted this to end, as if both of you wanted to hold the other to not let the moment pass, to not go back to what might turn into embarrassment.
You arched your back into the man, urging to cry out in pleasure, yet containing yourself to only let whines slip past your tongue. It was overwhelming, in every way possible, when you felt Hyunjin paint your insides in nothing but white, when the weight of his body met yours, when his hot breath hit your neck. None of you where this would end, where this would go after all this, but for that moment, for the time being, neither of you wasted a thought on it while you laid in each others arms, while you melted into each other and breathed the other in, while you shared one body, like two lovers, almost, perhaps.
tagging: @lotus-dly @hyunjinoir @aeminju @n-bokhari @che3tobre4th @etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @diue @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @meloohmel @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie
More Posts from Ara-ara-bitch and Others
A Love Not Meant to Be, Pt. 1: Kaeya
Notes: When I think of these at night, I know it’s gonna hurt. Hopefully. Also, I was a stupid blubbering mess while writing cause I literally put my whole ussy into all of them. SUPER LONG parts so each character has their own part + paired music/songs :)
Summary: Some things in life just aren’t meant to be + angst tropes.
Warning/s: Some suggestive content and mild cursing
Theme/s: Angst, no comfort, heartbreak, and abandonment. Gn Reader
Characters: Kaeya
Parts: Albedo, Kazuha
Kaeya: Not Ready for Anything Serious
(We’ll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross)
“I’m not looking for anything serious.” Kaeya said, peeking over you behind the rim of his wine glass. You don’t look at him and only finish your drink, knowing where this exchange will lead you.
“Don’t worry.” You say. “Neither am I.”
That was the first interaction you shared with the Cavalry Captain- the first lie you’ve ever told each other. It was a day like any other, but you remember it clearly in your mind. You’re a traveler from around the world and you found yourself one day in the welcoming doorsteps of Mondstadts walls. You thought it best to stay in the city for a few nights until your next excursion; it was better than camping out in the wild anyways. There, you meet Kaeya- the very delightful captain from the Knights of Favonius- getting shit faced at Angel’s Share. You wanted to try Mondstadt’s famed Dandelion Wine and there Kaeya intrigued you as to invite you over to drink a few glasses of wine with him. As the night went on, as you two became more inebriated, you spilled out secrets and desires you never thought you could say out loud- even worse if you’re saying it to a stranger. However, Kaeya gave you a sense of security. He tore your walls down with his charm and way with words; maybe without alcohol, you would’ve done it anyways.
Kaeya listened to you ramble; how lonely you felt during your travels, how sick you were of those fleeting, loveless relationships you had from around the world, how you understood what it meant to be alone. He stared at you curiously and you swore you nearly wanted to kiss him then and there. Kaeya listened attentively, letting you speak your mind when those before him cut you off and said they didn’t want anything more.
“Well,” Kaeya started, setting down his glass. “If you’re here for a bit, do you wanna have some real fun?” You wanted to run then, to break the cycle from before and maybe throw your glass at him for wasting your time and for making you feel so vulnerable. But that was Kaeya’s specialty. If he wanted it, he got- and so, you went back with him that night.
How could you refuse his offer? Kaeya had a certain flair to him unlike any other. But he was also different from those before. With him, you felt alive almost- like you’re falling slowly among the clouds and you had nothing to worry about. Kaeya told you things that night, wonderful sugar-coated things, that made your heart flutter and stomach turn in flips. He made you feel loved and wanted you in ways you never thought someone could never show you. Then again, you haven’t really felt anything like this in the past, but you tried to savor it all, give it back with twice the fervor. But as you felt yourself becoming comfortable in Kaeya’s tight embrace, you remembered what both of you said that night:
“I’m really not looking for anything serious,” Kaeya mumbled. You lay on your back and stare up at his dark ceiling.
“Me neither, you can’t leave with me anyways.” You reply. Before you drifted into sleep, you heard Kaeya speak.
“Some places, you just can’t follow.”
You wanted to think it was real, desperate to know if everything he said to you that night and the following nights were true. You didn’t know why you wanted to know- maybe the loneliness was getting to your head. With that, you decide to stay in Mondstadt for a bit longer, much to Kaeya’s delight. In reality, you didn’t want to let this go- you didn’t want to let him go. To you, it felt like Kaeya was the best thing that’s happened in a long time and yet, it’s not serious. You wanted it to end, to spare yourself of the inevitable heartache you are well aware of- but each time you tried to leave, Kaeya always gave you a reason to stay: a new shipment of some wine he’d like you to try, you haven’t seen this tourist spot yet, he’ll miss you if you go. Each and every time, you found yourself going back to him- back into his open arms and warm embrace. You wanted to think it was real, what you had, what Kaeya showed you, is nothing like those before. He cleansed you of those meaningless flings from the past and offered you a trial on what it’s like to be undeniably loved. With his emotional limitations, you knew he was this way because he knew you would leave soon anyways. Even so, Kaeya loved you, he couldn’t deny it, he’ll never say it out loud- but you knew.
You think it was because there was a certain way that Kaeya kisses you each time he sees you around. He kisses you to show you he cares, to make you smile, to say hello and goodbye for now, to tell you to come home with him tonight and talk about things not yet said. Kaeya kisses you like he has everything else to lose. His fingers dig into your skin to hold you tight and never let go, he tilts his head to feel you, drown in you, become breathless against your lips; he wants to be as close as he can, to keep you by his side forever. When he would let go and you are drunk with the senses of his passion, Kaeya turns away, leaving you in the dark alleyways to wonder if he was just teasing you, or if he was genuinely happy to see you again; happy to know that you stayed. It was hard not to see his love as nothing but authentic. You wonder sometimes if he was afraid to lose you- to have the fear of your leaving be the only thing in his mind when he sees your face. You think sometimes, that maybe behind that bravo façade, hides a face of pain; cheeks wet with tears and pretty lips shaking as you bid him your final goodbye. That thought made you want to stay with Kaeya, but he keeps his distance despite his passion. It’s nothing serious.
You wanted something real; a place to call home and someone to come home to. You thought that maybe Kaeya would be the one to give that to you. You were tired of these transient relationships and feelings- basic human things always slipping past your fingers. You didn’t want this, not anymore, but you held onto Kaeya because he was the most home you’ve felt in a long time. He felt like home, he made you feel at home: when he would walk you both back to his quarters and you’re surprised with a bottle of wine and serious talks and little banter. When Kaeya would compliment you behind closed doors, his pretty hands running down the blemishes of your skin to tell you how remarkable you are. When you found yourself tip-toeing down the halls of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters to be with Kaeya and he would welcome you in with a tender smile. All of this, and you were still afraid. Afraid of the past and what the present may bring. You were terrified of the thought that Kaeya would be like those people from before even though he’s proven time and time again that he wasn’t. You know deep within yourself that you had some faults you needed to work on before pursuing something serious with him. You were used to leaving first because you had other places to go to, but then you got used to others leaving you. With Kaeya, you wanted to be the first to break away- he gave you what you wanted, but you were too afraid of trying to take it, nor give it back. He was too distant, but too close. He let you in his life and you in his, but you don’t know enough about him to see him be vulnerable. If it wasn’t real- you needed to leave before you’ll regret staying for longer.
You got up and went early in the day to avoid being seen by the Mondstadtians and especially Kaeya. You thought it was for the best to leave in this way- it hurt a lot less for you at least. Besides, he was the last person you wanted to see before leaving. As you were about to exit the city, you felt someone grab your shoulder and just your luck, it was the Cavalry Captain.
“You know, it’s a little rude to leave without saying goodbye, right?” He says, that all too familiar smile on his face. You shake off his hand and look at him.
“Well, it’s time for me to head off.” You say. Kaeya purses his lips and sees how uneasy you are. “I have someplace to be.”
“Just stay one more day,” He says, opting to take the luggage off your hands. “Come, I’ll take you home.” He doesn’t know why he put so much effort into making you stay. Kaeya scratched off every excuse in the book as to why you can’t leave yet. He doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t want to let you go either. Even if he said that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, he fell for you unexpectedly. He lied again and again about how he wouldn’t mind if you up and left- he’ll miss you, but that’s it. In truth Kaeya was afraid to let you go, he’ll be devastated if you do, and his worst fear came to life when you pulled away and stepped back.
“What home? That place you take me back to over and over after we get drunk?” You snap. “I don’t have anything here, Kaeya. You said so yourself that what we had wasn’t anything serious.” You look at Kaeya and see a frown flash in his features. He was taken aback by this. He thought that maybe you could have given him your time for longer, that you loved him enough to not let him be like those strangers from before. As soon as Kaeya noticed you staring, his frown was almost immediately replaced with a haughty grin.
“We never had anything.” He says. “You said so yourself.” He used your words against you. They were cold and harsh, but you’ve been around him long enough to know that he was just trying to have the upper hand over you. He didn’t want to be seen as someone weak, but it hurt him, you both knew it. Whatever this was, whatever relationship you two had, it was fun while it lasted.
It was time for you to leave, to go to another place he cannot follow- a rule he had imposed upon you first when you woke up in his quarters that night. You cannot follow him and he cannot follow you. You had so many words left to say to Kaeya. You wanted to tell him how you really felt, to comfort his own fears and pain, to tell him you want to stay. He stares at your struggle, anticipating your words he so wishes would be a promise. He wanted you to say it, to tell him how much you wanted to be with him- he wanted you to be the first to say the things he can’t. Kaeya almost looked hopeful. But you were just like him, destroying relationships in fear that you’ll see them in their worst, their most vulnerable, afraid of trust and companionship.
“It was nice knowing you.” was all you could say, a lie, sparing not a single glance at Kaeya as you walked away. In truth, it wasn’t nice knowing him. You felt terrible, you regretted it, but boy did it make you happy. Kaeya gave you things, made you feel things you wished you felt in a relationship. But it wasn’t real, he confirmed it. None of it was, and that was the part that hurt the most- to know that as real as it felt to you, it was only a one-night romance for him. You were wrong. You thought you could trust him with yourself, that he can replace your mistakes of the past. You finally thought you found someone who saw you as nothing else but yourself- even at your worst. Kaeya had wanted the same from you.
“I wish I had never met you, Y/N.” Kaeya mumbles under his breath as he watches you go. He can’t take you back this way- his false pride won’t allow it unless it was you crawling back to him. But that’ll never happen. If he was being honest with himself, he loved his time spent with you. He felt guilty for making it seem like he was only leading you on. He has never felt anything more genuine, his feelings more real, than when he was with you. Kaeya loved you, he loved your company and the temporary joy you brought into his life; he wishes he would have shown you how true it was to him as well. He wishes he could let you know how much he wants you back.
I am a(n):
⚪ Male
⚪ Female
🔘 Writer
Looking for
⚪ Boyfriend
⚪ Girlfriend
🔘 An incredibly specific word that I can’t remember
AUAYAYAYAYAYAYA THIS IS LITERALLY PULLING ME THRU MY ALLERGIES ISTG
lights, camera, action!
premise. in which you get yourself involved in a lot of unscripted drama. (genshin celebrity au.)
includes. xiao, childe, albedo, ayato, scaramouche, thoma & kazuha.
previous episode. watch here.
note. the long-awaited sequel nobody actually waited for lmao. please read part 1 if you still haven't! this entire fic would be incomprehensible otherwise :'D
四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder
although xiao is, with absolute certainty, regarded as your definite favorite celebrity in your heart, ayato comes a close second.
he's a modern day prince; if anyone were asked to say which male lead they liked best, you can guarantee their answer would be among one of his roles.
he played a lot of characters—a school heartthrob, a ceo, a bar owner, and even an actual prince for a snow white retelling. each one with stellar execution, as you'd expect from an actor of his caliber.
so it is to your absolute horror to find him casted in this production as a minor villain. the one that happens to (futilely) seduce the journalist to bed, no less!
is he asking to get his image destroyed?! which... actually does make sense. he's already been typecasted as the “prince” type of male lead, and you can guess how frustrating that can be. it must suck to play one persona over and over, mindlessly spouting recycled lines; not much room for creativity there.
but he's had different roles too, of course. one that stuck to your mind is another murder mystery, a film focusing on the death of a family head. the power struggle for the place of successor isn't a secret even to the public, and the prime suspects are primarily composed of the victim's relatives who stand to benefit from the family head's death.
ayato played the role of the first son, believed to be the one most likely to inherit the riches. which means the sooner the family head dies, he gets to have all the assets. he's suspicious due to his probable motive, but overly so that it's too obvious; ironically enough, this leads the audience to think he definitely couldn't be the killer.
except he is exactly that, but for a reason nobody would expect. rather than greed, the first son murdered his father for driving his biological mother to madness due to abuse and then sent her to a psychiatric ward, where she eventually died. he took in a second wife, a woman only after his money, who kept on pressuring her husband to make her daughter his successor.
contrary to popular belief, ayato's character didn't loathe his step-sister. in fact, he cared about her quite a bit, and his hate for his father grew whenever he scorned her for being “lacking” or “good for nothing.” his scummy personality led to his demise.
in the end, the step-mother was wrongly arrested, and the true murderer wasn't revealed until after the credits, where ayato was shown sitting at his father's desk and laughing to himself, followed by a scene detailing how the actual murder took place and how he tricked the investigators successfully.
the contrast between his acting as a shallow young master and a cunning mastermind had been praised by many. to tell the truth, you don't know how he was typecasted as a prince when he's clearly more suited for “villain” roles.
...even so, his current role isn't anything like the previous one! a cannon fodder and a genius murderer are nowhere near alike! he's only there to make the protagonist jealous and his character is fated to die one week after the scene with the journalist!
you suppose your disbelief must've shown on your face when each actor's respective role was announced because he couldn't help but chuckle when he looked at you.
“...by any chance, did you audition for the murderer role? because- it's hard to believe that-” you struggle to piece together words, rambling while ayato is busy signing his autograph on your phone case. (as luck would have it, you don't have paper on you. you said he could sign the back of your shirt but he politely declined, insisting the shirt would get dirty like you aren't planning to get it framed on your bedroom wall and declare it your heirloom.)
you don't even feel shy talking to him from the sheer incredulity of the situation. ayato only laughs as he hands you your phone case. “i did. but it turned out getting a minor role is a good thing since i'm planning to be on vacation soon.”
“oh. that's understandable, then...” barely. you still have complaints about it. as an actor, you respect the director's decisions, but as a loyal fan, you oughta give him a talking to and demand to give your idol the role he deserves.
“do you dislike it?”
your brows knit together, eyes momentarily leaving your now prized phone case to glance at him. “dislike what?” dislike that you're treated like this? that you have to act as a brainless villain? that you don't get much screentime? then fuck yeah.
“dislike that you're going to do that scene with me.” almost bashful, he leans closer to whisper to your ear. “you know. the one in the hotel.”
all the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks. impishly, ayato's lips curl into a smile of mischievous nature, a far cry from the elegant simper he usually holds. “i... that isn't what i... no, i mean it's not that i don't like you as my partner, but- but-!”
sufficiently entertained by your fumbling, he stops being mean and lightly pats the top of your head. “let's both do our best. truthfully, i'm not the most adept with bedroom scenes, but if you need help, you can always rely on me.”
rely how exactly?!
...
“is it too tight?”
“um... a little.”
“okay. is this better?”
“yes. am i too stiff?”
“mhm, a bit. you don't have to be nervous. it's just me.”
ah yes. it's just THE kamisato ayato pinning you down your bed, breathing down your neck, moments away from stealing your lips. nothing to worry about, clearly.
he adjusts his grip on your wrists, loosening it to your liking. his character is meant to push you down forcibly, but of course he doesn't want to actually harm you during filming—to prepare before the shoot, practice is of utmost importance. you have to give the illusion of an aggressive assault when in reality he's handling you like a piece of glass.
but you're doing this right after a day's work, and you have to blame your stupid mouth for running off without command and casually asking him if he could visit your apartment to go over the scene. in late hours of the night. in what can be interpreted as a much more scandalous suggestion.
thankfully, you're not dealing with childe so you're spared from wiggling eyebrows or phrases with flirty implications.
but him being ayato doesn't make it any easier.
“don't you feel embarrassed making out on screen...?” you laugh awkwardly in an attempt to ignore the weird tension in the air, slightly overwhelmed by his intense gaze. “i know you've done this several times, but i imagine the awkwardness never wears off.”
“not quite,” he agrees. “but a job is a job... i say that, but i'd like to make it comfortable for you, if possible. how are you faring? do you need a break?” he sits up, allowing more distance in the space between you. you shake your head.
“i'm fine. just... nervous. it's my first time doing a bedroom scene...” you look off to the side, staring at the lights beyond your window. though you're in the comfort of your own room, having an unfamiliar man on your bed makes it all feel so strange.
...as you thought, it really was weird to invite a co-actor to your bed! eh? would booking a hotel be better? but isn't it overboard to go to a hotel for practice? inviting him to your apartment is equally as bad, though?!
“all the cameramen watching can be pressuring,” he adds in afterthought, releasing one of your wrists only to pin it with a single hand. you flinch a little when his fingers skim over your cheek, but you slowly relax into the heat. “it's best if you try to forget about them.”
“i'm afraid that's easier said than done,” you murmur, voice growing weaker as he leans down once more.
“really? i consider myself a decent kisser.” he grins, sly and confident. “i'm certain i can keep other things off your mind for a while.”
“wh- i'm not supposed to enjoy it, remember?!” you squawk indignantly with flushed cheeks. he relishes in your reaction, chuckling lowly.
“oh? my bad. you'll have to work hard acting like you don't like it, then.”
his lips hover above yours, breaths mingling with each other. the proximity catches you off guard but his hand is a steady weight holding you in place, urging you to look at him.
“don't think about anyone else. just focus on me.”
五 ; scaramouche, the best friend
“fantastic. i was also looking forward to a drama adaption but you've already ruined it for me.”
“that's not nice! you're supposed to congratulate me for passing the audition!”
“my courtesy towards you has already expired 5 years ago.”
“yes. you've made that very apparent.”
“have i also made my ire apparent? it's like the universe is telling me seeing you everyday isn't enough, i have to see you on television too. frankly, we see too much of each other.”
“you say that but you're the one coming over my apartment uninvited.”
“this is where i store my beer.”
scaramouche has a perfectly functional fridge so you know he's only doing that as an excuse. he's been this way for 8 years. (of course, he'd only been storing milk at your house when you were both still underage.)
(the milk didn't do any favors for his height, unfortunately.)
his words are as harsh as ever but believe it or not, he's your closest friend. not that he'd ever admit it, even at gunpoint. it's a feat you should add to your resume, honestly, because as far as you know, you're one of the few people he doesn't hate.
he tolerates you enough that he can practice your lines with you (with enough pressure), though he delivers his part of the script with such dispassion it makes it difficult for you to get into the mood. but in his own brand of patience, he lets you reiterate your lines an endless amount of times until you feel like you get it right.
he helps you with expressions too, albeit in a manner you find hard to appreciate.
“you look like you're constipated, not about to cry.”
“your jaw is hanging open. want to catch a fly with your tongue? act like you caught your husband cheating, not like you're about to eat half my burger when you said you'd only take a bite.”
(personal grudges were involved.)
he's not interested in the film industry at all, but he was the one who pushed you to pursue your dreams when everyone else was discouraging you from taking an unstable career. he's your pillar of support; even if he's glaring at you scathingly or giving cutting words matter-of-factly, he's all bark and no bite. the moment you shed tears, he's already pulling you to his chest, remaining silent as he rubs comforting circles on your back. he doesn't even complain when you bury your face to hide in his neck, soaking his shirt with tears.
underneath all that layers, he's pretty nice.
(admittedly, you have to dig real deep.)
when you're smiling and happy, however, he takes the chance to complain. sneering, he blurts, “what's up with you taking roles in romance dramas all the time? besides, you're way too old to be in high school.”
“i still look fresh.” you batted your eyelashes at him, celebrating inwardly when he made a scandalized noise. “but i'm auditioning for a different role soon. if i get it, you'll see me as a murder victim instead of a high schooler.”
two weeks later, you get the e-mail confirming the love interest role. scaramouche goes so pale you consider taking him to the hospital.
“i know the journalist is your favorite character, but aren't you overreacting? do you hate me acting as them that much?”
he rolls his eyes so hard you almost think they're going to be permanently pointed heavenward. “are you stupid? that's not what i'm worried about. wouldn't you have to- you know- do that scene-”
“which one?”
“...the hotel scene...”
ah. well that certainly is a cause for concern. it's steamier than what you're used to; so far, you've only done light pecks or kisses that don't last too long. bedroom scenes are definitely foreign territory.
“i can only hope my partner is good-looking, then. i wouldn't mind it, if that's the case.” you laugh sheepishly, missing the way his eyes narrow in disapproval.
“...whatever. suit yourself.”
“don't tell me you still feel weird about kissing scenes?”
“i don't have issues with kissing scenes. i just don't want to see you sucking face on tv.”
“don't use that word! it's too vulgar!”
as part of work, it's inevitable you have to do a kissing scene here and there. scaramouche has never been fond of seeing them, turning away from the television or excusing himself to the bathroom whenever they come up. it's a reaction you can sympathize with; it is rather awkward to see your friend making out with someone on screen.
but he especially detests the old recording of your high school play.
long, long ago, you were part of the drama club. by association, scaramouche became a member as well—the pair of you were considered as a package deal. he was your practice partner so often that he got forced into joining.
he'd die before he ever tells anyone, but he had a knack for playing villains back then, specialized in wicked cackling and bone-chilling monologues reeking of depravity.
but in your final year, he got roped into playing the prince when the original actor sprained his ankle. incidentally, you happened to be playing the damsel in distress in your (pretty much unrecognizable) rendition of sleeping beauty.
“why is the prince shorter than-” before you could end your statement, he already slammed your face with the script.
the play was a hot mess. scaramouche couldn't play a decent prince for the life of him, so your club made the play a comedy and reworked the entire script to fit him better. the valiant and heroic character became satirical, forced into saving you not for love but to fulfill a prophecy that definitely wasn't in the original sleeping beauty.
the audience was taking the change well, intrigued by the bizarre twists and turns. the huffing-puffing prince was hilarious to watch, too.
it wasn't long before you laid in the casket, blinded by stage lights even with your eyes closed. the cardboard dragon had already been defeated, and the prince was fast approaching.
to your utter distaste, it was decided the prince would slap you awake. so you prepared for it when the last lines were being said, bracing for the stinging pain.
but then there was a rise in pitch, nearing to a yelp, then a loud thud, then the weight of two hands pressing on either side of your head, and-
your lips were touching something soft and warm.
the squeals and yells reverberated in the whole theater, the narrator stammering awkwardly and improvising ad libs last minute. your eyes snapped open and you'd gotten a front row seat to see scaramouche's blushing face, an explosion of pink dancing across his features.
after the play wrapped up and he peeled off the ridiculously frilly prince costume, he'd been set on destroying every record—alas, your friends weren't so keen on deleting such good footage. to this day, he still bristled at the thought of it; his and your first kiss showcased to hundreds of people.
it's harder to endure when he sees you kissing someone else, however. he never gets used to it, no matter how many times he tells himself to.
“oh, finally. it took so long for them to get together,” his co-worker groans as he watches the tv at the break room, airing the latest episode of the drama you star in. scaramouche glances at the screen, turning away when the camera flits to the boy with ashy brown hair. he's touching your face for the millionth time, bright teal eyes staring into yours so deeply scaramouche almost thinks he's actually besotted with you.
“you're not watching? i thought you liked this series?”
“i don't.”
for his own sake, he doesn't give the tv another glance, stepping out of the room.
this is fine. it's not the first time he's felt like this.
(it doesn't feel any less terrible.)
六 ; thoma, the former male lead
there are as many aspiring actors as there are stars in the sky; it's unfortunate only some of them shine brightly enough to be noticeable, and the rest twinkling weakly in miniscule dots.
for your case, and for your friend thoma's, you belong to the latter.
thoma is handsome, that much you can see with your own eyes, but a pretty face can be found anywhere in the industry—he lacks that special something that makes him stand out. that being said, you don't have it either, so you're on the same boat.
you're best pals, comrades in arms, partners in crime.
actual partners. once. for a romance drama.
(but not the main characters. just an obligatory side pairing, of course. you're the rebound for the second male lead.)
it was your first work, and you'd rather delete your existence than watch it again. hopefully, that also erases your dark history.
your... amateurish acting had been unsightly. the innocence you portrayed wasn't lovely, just a ghastly display of incoherent mumbling and lack of comedic timing. you wanted to tear apart each clip and toss it in some imaginary ditch where nobody can find it again.
thoma's performance wasn't as severe as yours. it wasn't half-bad, almost decent if not for the scant instances of awkwardness in scenes that required more emotional acting.
alas, the end product was just about what you expected; a series no one paid attention to. both a relief and a disappointment, because even if you hated it with every inch of your being, the effort you poured into practice and filming was real.
but after the drama ended, you kept in close contact with thoma, chugging down beer at dinners as you complained to each other about work. failed auditions, mistakes in filming, inability to get roles—you shared everything, and he did the same. each moment of embarrassment and each moment of breakthrough that called for a celebration, you told each other. through thick and thin, you had the other's back.
naturally, he was one of the first few people you called (second only to your manager) when you received the e-mail confirming your role as the love interest for arguably one of the most anticipated series to date.
he'd been overjoyed, above all, his elation overruling his surprise; it was a far cry from other violent reactions. (“are you sure it's not a prank?” scaramouche had said in disbelief.)
“you're finally going to be acknowledged!” gleefully, thoma chattered on, “that's the best news i've heard all year!”
and that was good. it was nice having his support. he'd been the one to give you a pep talk before you had to start rehearsals, soothing your fretful worries.
when you don't understand the essence of a particular scene, he's more than happy to help—“i'm just one call away!”
when you fumble your lines on camera, he laughs but not with mockery (a stark contrast to that little gremlin scaramouche)—“it's no big deal. you only have to do your best tomorrow.”
when you recount your experiences working with famous actors, he listens attentively—“you're starting to get along, huh?”
and then you would hesitate. it sounds like you're... bragging.
he says he's only one call away, but he's busy with his own work; still, he makes time for you. he listens whenever you complain, but he has bigger problems, ones that he doesn't say because he knows it'll dampen your mood. he has to hear about you acquainting with celebrities he can't even dream of meeting, like you're showing him the things he can't have.
you got lucky. what about him?
slowly, your face bleeds to commercials, advertisement banners, even huge outdoor LED displays on shopping malls featuring the drama cast—yet he remains as a blurry, nameless figure in the sea of aspiring actors.
he doesn't show it, doesn't even hint at it, but he must be... envious, right?
it's not hard to be. you've been in the industry for the same amount of time, began at the same starting line, yet only one of you found success, the other one left behind in the dust.
still. still. he never shows it. never stops being your biggest fan. never lets you think otherwise. he watches every episode, every interview. babbles how amazing your performance was in this scene. rambles how you did so well in this drama and he's so proud of you. smiles at how you have to wear a disguise now whenever you go out together so nobody can recognize you.
“it must be hard,” he comments as you hide in a secluded park, nearly getting found out by someone you noticed following you around. “you can't get around as freely anymore. are you okay? nobody follows you home or anything?”
always the worrier, you think. “of course not. my manager drives me around everywhere these days. you don't have to worry.”
thoma grins, plopping down at a bench. “that's a relief.”
for a moment, you just sit in silence, basking in the slight chilly air. the orange and pinks of sunset darken to streaks of blue, streetlights flickering to life.
“...did you know there are rumors of you dating xiao?”
you choke on air, coughing to your fist. “what?!” not that you feel flattered. not at all. (you've badgered xiao to come with you to the carnival last week, and then the waterpark a week before that with the rest of the cast, and- well. you suppose there's reason for people to speculate. you also wore matching animal headbands—how on earth you got xiao to do that, you're not sure either.)“why did that- how did it come to that?!”
“it's surprising for me, too,” thoma says. “if anything, i'd expect dating rumors with the actual male lead. or childe. he seems... particularly clingy.”
“albedo? there's no way he'd like someone like me.” you furrow your brows. if anything, it's only gotten awkward between the two of you ever since the confession scene. “ajax... well. i never know with him.” you honestly can't tell if he's flirting or not.
thoma laughs, eyes crinkling with mirth. “you look close with all of them. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were acting a romance film outside of the project.”
you shudder. “if, and only if, i end up dating one of them, i'll attract all kinds of bad attention. it's not even good PR. i'd hate to think of all the fan girls who'll start cursing me, stealing their man and all that. hell, i'm not even dating anybody and i'm already being cursed.”
“i'll reply to every single mean comment and defend your honor.”
you snort. “do you even have the time for that?”
“...unfortunately, yes. i'm not receiving much work at the moment.”
oh.
fuck.
“i can... i can recommend you to the director. i heard he's starting a new project soon, so maybe-”
thoma frowns and you ground to a halt. “it's fine. i don't want you to do that for me.”
it sounds like you're pitying him. like you don't trust him to rise on his own.
but you want to help.
“is this why you look sad around me every so often?” he realizes, astonished.
“i... can't help but feel guilty,” you admit, unable to maintain eye contact. “every time i say a silly story about xiao, or ajax, or albedo, i feel like i'm showing off. every time i complain, you never try to compare, you only comfort me and never tell me about your problems. i want to do something for you, but i don't know what. i care about you, and i want you to do well because i know how talented you are. except everyone else doesn't, and i want them to see you.”
it's not fair. he's putting in the effort. the same as you are. but it's still not working out for him, and it's not fair.
“you... want to help me?”
you manage a weak nod. you hear an intake of breath, feel him shuffling closer. then he places his hand on top of your clenched fist.
“[name]. can you look at me?”
slowly, you raise your head. his green eyes are shining so brilliantly, bright emeralds gleaming in the moonlight.
yet they also seem... resigned.
“you're really nice, [name]. but you don't have to feel guilty. it's not your fault i'm still like this, and i'm already thankful you're worrying about me. i can't say that i was entirely... not jealous of what you have now, but that's just my problem. so you don't have to make that face, okay?”
he smiles, just like always. you open your mouth to respond, but then you feel that sensation again—that prickle at the back of your neck, the feeling that makes your hair stand on end.
“you're kind.” his hand cradles your cheek ever so softly, tenderly. your lashes tremble, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. “that's why... i hope you can forgive me.”
this position is familiar. you know this, because you've experienced this before.
long long ago, just when you started your career, you'd practiced this scene with him in the dressing room—hearts pounding, hands awkwardly finding their places;
your lips brushing together in a shy kiss.
now, his fingers are carding through your hair, the closest he's ever been to you in years. you flinch, gripping his shirt, uncomprehending, and-
you hear it.
the shutter of a camera.
七 ; kazuha, the murderer
the first time you heard a complete newbie would act the murderer role, you were in disbelief.
alright, you were an unremarkable actor before your current role, but at the very least, you had experience. not only is this person entirely new to the industry, having nothing to show for himself, he's an amateur. it sounds like a recipe for disaster.
it's even more baffling when you discover ayato, THE kamisato ayato, tried for the role and didn't get it. who the hell is this newbie? someone who got in through nepotism? preposterous! the murderer is an incredibly important character to the plot, the whole series would be ruined if he turned out to be awful!
and then you see who he actually is, and oh boy, he does not look like a murderer.
he's more like a harmless bunny. fluffy white hair, round red eyes, a polite disposition—did you arrive at the wrong set, kid? maybe you were aiming for the high school romance drama and came here by mistake?
the webtoon murderer was no pretty boy. just an average-looking dude working at a convenience store nobody suspected to be the killer because of his unassuming looks, and that was the point. yet this eye-catching hottie is the complete opposite.
but everyone else in the cast is hot as hell, so maybe the murderer needs to be hot too so he can blend in??? director, what exactly did you have in mind?
“[name]!” just as you were staring at him, he turns and notices your gaze, expression immediately brightening. like an innocent baby chick, he walks up to you. “good morning.”
it's another day of rehearsals for the upcoming episode. so far, you haven't gotten to see his true skills yet—the most he's done is act like an ordinary extra part of the background and out of the limelight. it's understandable, since his character doesn't appear much until halfway through the series.
“kazuha,” you acknowledge him, still a little unused to his... general stickiness. you don't know what he found so appealing about you but he's taken to sticking by your side most of the time. childe has teased you more than once that perhaps the little chick has a crush on you.
“do you want to eat lunch together? i know a good fried chicken place.” so it's cannibalism now?
you agree to go anyway because fried chicken sounds great. plus, as much as you came to find that even celebrities are just regular people and you managed to befriend a lot of them, there's a sense of comfort in kazuha—he's the one you felt least intimidated by.
even if you text xiao for hours now, or come over to childe's house frequently, or go on food trips with albedo, or go clothes shopping with ayato and his sister, they're still people you can't get close to without boundaries. there's still a sense of distance separating you, one that you can't cross, but can happily do so with kazuha.
being with kazuha is just comfortable. there's never a need for formalities, and rather than co-workers, you feel closer to being friends.
sometimes, you feel as if you're babysitting though. he just... screams youth. holds the freshness of an amateur, clutching to naive hopes and wishes in the path of stardom. it's endearing to see, and it's like seeing a younger version of yourself.
it's a shame you've buried those naive wishes long ago, but you hope kazuha's career goes well for him. this drama will undoubtedly be a big boost for his popularity, but will also backlash on him if he performs horribly.
“this is my treat.” kazuha pushes the plate of chicken fingers to your side of the table, eyes shaped in smiling crescents.
you shake your head but take one nonetheless. “what kind of senior would i be to make you pay? order all you want, it's on me.”
kazuha doesn't pout but comes close to it, sulking as he bites on a piece of korean bburinkle chicken. “i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose.”
“doing what?”
“letting me off easy.”
...? this kid says some pretty strange things sometimes.
“i'll order some drinks. what do you want?” he offers, standing up.
“iced tea is fine.”
“got it.”
as he moves, his wallet drops on the floor. you're about to tell him so but you think better of it, already considering the possibility of kazuha sneakily paying for your meal on the counter and ordering drinks as an excuse.
you sigh, bending down to pick it up from the ground, but the wallet faces up, revealing the contents.
the first thing you see is your face.
you nearly jolt and hit your head on the table in shock, but you manage to suppress your surprise in a garbled mess of choking. this photo is... from that modeling gig you did a year ago. but why is it in kazuha's wallet-?!
you quickly put it back on the table, just in time for kazuha to arrive. he raises an eyebrow at your flustered expression but doesn't mention anything.
he makes a face seeing the wallet he forgot on the table. you were right after all.
later, as you return to set and practice ends after a few more hours, you recount the order of events to xiao, who could not be anymore uninterested at your entire spiel. perhaps childe would've made a more engaging conversation partner, but you'd rather not deal with his teasing right now.
“-and my face was right there! as his wallet photo! what the hell does that mean?!” years ago, you never could've guessed you'd ever be able to rant to xiao's face like this. yet here you are, unashamed in front of your idol.
“isn't it obvious?” xiao isn't even pretending like he's giving you his full attention anymore, hands preoccupied with the game console in his hands. “he likes you.”
“???”
xiao sighs, dead fish eyes looking straight at your clueless expression. “don't you have a photo of me in your wallet? that's the same thing.”
“that is certainly not the same thing! you're- xiao, and i'm just me. you're popular.”
xiao almost rolls his eyes. you're way too humble for someone who gets recognized by people on the street daily. “congrats, then. you met one of your rare fans.”
that was an unbelievable thought, before. you? having a fan? whenever you searched up your name, you couldn't find anyone talking about you. your character is different; you're looking for people who's interested in you as a person, not just your role.
now, though. you've accumulated enough fame for a fan club. several maybe, even.
... but even then. that modeling gig hadn't been successful. only someone who knew about it a year ago would know about it now, since it faded from the internet pretty fast.
as far as you know, you didn't have fans a year ago.
xiao makes a realization. “...isn't this the fourth time he invited you to lunch this week?”
“yeah?”
“.....isn't he just hitting on you then?”
now that's just not in the realm of possibility. xiao is so funny.
“he literally baked you cookies the other day.”
“friends give each other cookies, xiao. i can even make some for you if you want.”
“they were heart-shaped, [name].”
(you end up making him cookies to prove a point.)
days pass by, xiao giving you increasingly odd looks, and kazuha finally proves his worth in filming.
his performance rivals that of albedo's—the soft edges of his eyes sharpening into something menacing, gaze cold and apathetic, his lips downturned to an unfamiliar sneer. you're watching the birth of a star, and it's only a matter of time before his talent will be acknowledged.
he's different from ayato as a villain. ayato is cunning, the perfect example of a mastermind. malicious and dripping with spite. but kazuha looks innocent, a cute little bun you'd never guess can make those kind of facial expressions—twisted, vicious, malevolent.
it's part of the act, but you flinch when his character turns violent; kicking down doors, smashing glass windows with a bat. holding the extras acting as murder victims by grabbing them by the hair, throwing down cops like they weighed nothing.
and then right after that scene concludes with the director's “cut!”, with (fake) blood still splattered on his face, kazuha runs up to you grinning innocently, fishing for compliments. “did i do good?”
nevertheless, you give him headpats. “you're terrifying.”
he flushes, not too pleased giving that impression to you. the next day, he acts all sweet to you again, giving you a batch of cream puffs this time. xiao snorts somewhere in the background.
eventually, your manager notices the snacks you receive regularly. “oh, it's from that kid?”
“kazuha? mhm.” you nibble happily on the pastries.
your manager chuckles. “never thought i'd see him again here.”
“...what do you mean?” blinking owlishly, you pause from chowing down. “you know him?”
“he used to work at the bakery you went to often before, didn't he? the kid you kept telling to watch your first drama. you forced him to watch the episodes on your phone during his break.”
...............FUCK.
you do remember doing something that stupid. during the filming of your first drama, you frequently stopped by at a nearby bakery to buy snacks, and you remember there was a cute kid working there. you often pinched his cheeks and cajoled him into watching the series.
but when filming ended, you couldn't go to the bakery anymore. the filming location was far from your house, and the bakery was simply out of the way.
did that kid... kazuha... support you all this time? from that early on?
you curse your manager for telling you this right before filming. your mind is a mess, having trouble connecting that cute, precious child (why are you always calling him a kid, he's barely 2 years younger than you) to the smooth and flirty man today.
it's an important scene today too! the confrontation between the detective, his partner, and the murderer. it needs your complete concentration, and you just don't have it right now. you've never seen the director lose his temper, but you can probably manage to do it today.
albedo is performing well in front of the cameras as always, so much like a protagonist that you feel like you're watching from a television screen already. but you have a job to do too, so you do your best in the spotlight, pretending to be unaffected.
kazuha looks even scarier up close, so unhinged and unreadable. you know what his next move will be, written on the script, but that doesn't make you any less uneasy.
“you're bold,” kazuha drawls, playing with the knife in his hand, “coming to see me by yourselves.”
you can hear what he's saying, but it feels like your head is full of cotton. why are you so distracted? “so it really is you,” you speak, praising yourself for acting normally.
the other two exchange lines, and you thank the heavens you're mostly silent for the time being. for the meantime, you have a few moments to collect yourself; there's a chase right after this, and you'd rather not do something stupid like trip over yourself in the middle of something so serious.
...
sometimes, you're gifted with foresight.
but! to be fair! you did not trip over yourself! the staff forgot to fix the cables in one part of the set, and you tripped over those. so no. not entirely your fault.
albedo is too far away—he's on the side trying to unlock the doors with his brain powers somehow, and you're the bait distracting the murderer before he does so.
ordinarily, you would not trip over the cables. you have able eyes, and you could easily step over them. but you're at the stairs.
...you're at the flight of stairs. and you're about to fall over. FUCK. WHY DID THE DIRECTOR WANT A CHASE SCENE IN THE STAIRS.
you brace for the impact, hands outstretched, but then in a complete break of character, kazuha reaches for you.
you're leaning too far to the edge now. there's no way to pull you back to even ground. kazuha grits his teeth, pulling you to his chest, and in an immense show of strength, twists around so he'd be beneath you.
you descend in a disgraceful tangle of limbs. you're enveloped in a warm embrace, cheek resting on a firm chest. a chin is tucked into the crook of your neck, heavy breaths tickling the skin of your shoulder.
you jolt back to action when you realize what just happened. “your head-!” you scramble to touch his head, feeling for any bumps or even worse, blood. kazuha hisses, so you soften the touch, tracing over this body to check for other injuries. he became a literal mattress. “what about your back? did you get sprained anywhere?”
“i'm fine,” kazuha wheezes under your caressing.
“you don't sound fine! who are you trying to fool? you didn't have to do that!” you grab his cheeks. they're as soft as ever, just as pinch-able as you remember.
“i'm not hurt. it's because you're... on top of me...” bashfully, he looks away. you blink, glancing down at your position. you're straddling his hips, at a proximity entirely inappropriate.
...his hands are still on your waist.
this kazuha is too different from two minutes ago! wasn't he just chasing you down the corridor in murderous intent?! now he's blushing underneath you, like a pure maiden you defiled!
what's with this soft, sugary atmosphere?! last time you remembered, this was a murder mystery drama!
(when the drama ends, you're casted for a romance college series with kazuha as the male lead. figures.)
their username EMBODIES what i do every night....
telling the brothers they would look pretty with a ring I Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus
Request: Hi, may i ask for a request where mc tells the demon brothers that they would look pretty with a ring?
AN: HELLO!! Here's the second part of the request!! I'm so sorry for the late update <33 I'll try to manage my schedule better I swear!! Anyways HERE YA GO
NOTE: NONE OF THESE IMAGES ARE MINE, NOR AM I TRYING TO SELL THEM.
📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜
Lucifer & Mammon
Leviathan
You weren’t surprised when Levi burst through your door, holding a limited edition Ruri-chan: Invasion of the Gnomes in one hand and a controller in the other. He hadn’t slept a wink for 3 nights and had stayed up to pre-order the game before it sold out. So, of course, he was excited to play it.
It’s been around half an hour since you entered his aquatic room, and his finger had yet to leave his controller. You admired how skilled his reaction time was, pressing the buttons as if he’d been doing it from day one. You wondered what his finger would look like with a ring wrapped around it…
“You wanna play? There’s a couch co-op and I can get another controller if you want me to”
“Yeah sure! Get ready to get your ass kicked, Lord of Shadows”
The image had yet left your mind and continued to fester for the rest of the rounds. The distraction definitely did not help, finding yourself losing round after round.
"Come on, Normie! Why you trash all of a sudden? Git gud LMAO"
"Of course not! You can't exactly blame me for thinking how cute you'd look with a lil ring on your finger…"
That seemed to shut him up, so you looked back at the screen. In the next round you played, your character absolutely beat the living crap out of him. You pump your hands up in victory, turning to your boyfriend with a smile on your face.
There before you was Levi, eyes blinking and face flushed red, the hue a match with the blood dripping down his nose. He reminded you of those anime characters who'd gush fountains from a nosebleed. You ended up having to put the game on hold to grab a tissue for the demon.
A few days later you find your boyfriend a stuttering mess, his arms extending a box onto the palm of your hand. You gave him a look of confusion before opening it up. There tucked inside were two snake shaped rings, that when interlocked, wrapped around each other. You laughed to yourself, finding the situation similar to a choose-your-own-adventure game, and took one for yourself. He took the other and slipped it on with you doing the same.
He’d play around with it when he’s in the lobby of a game. He gets super flustered when someone asks about it, giving excuses about how it was a collectible from his favorite series. Sometimes you’d tease him about it, but he secretly likes that there's something that connects him with you.
Source: https://images.app.goo.gl/2rFPFaW8v2kYxPdEA
Satan
It was another day in Devildom and you and Satan decided to go to the Library to return the books he borrowed. On your way back, you stumbled upon a stray Persian kitten. Of course the blonde pleaded with you to let him bring it home, and you couldn't exactly say no to that face. So without Lucifer’s knowledge, you took it and hid it in his room. You gave it a bath and played with the feline all day long–soon being named Sir Cat II.
Satan was in the middle of petting Sir Cat’s furry head, you notice how his fingers delicately brushed the kitty. The cat purred in satisfaction, leaning closer to the demon’s touch.
“Hey Satan?” you called. His attention left the cat on his lap and was brought to you. You asked if he had any rings lying around, and he shook his head to your inquiry. “Oh that’s a shame, your finger would look great with one”. You took the cat out of his arms while he was caught off-guard.
A few seconds of silence passed and he abruptly stood up. He went to a shelf and easily located the book he was looking for, as if he knew the shelf like the back of his hand. There he was, holding a copy of one of his favorite books in front of you. In a split second, Satan opens it and rips a page off. He starts to fold the paper on itself, eventually making a ring shaped origami with a heart in the middle. He rips another and once again folds it. He takes your hand and slips one of them on.
"There you go, Kitten~~ Now both our hands look great, don't they? These are made from my favorite chapters of the book. Where the lovers meet and their happily ever after. I shan't spoil though, that would ruin our story, will it not? "
You’re in utter disbelief at the scene. It felt sacrilegious to watch a bookworm tear a book, let alone rip two pages clean off. Despite that, you ended up with matching rings—enchanted with a spell that makes it unbreakable—and a cat that sadly lasted for a day since Lucifer found out.
He'd fondle with it while reading, sometimes staring at it longing when it catches the ring from the corner of his eye. It reminds him of his future happily ever after with you and how there's still plenty of time to spare, you're not even half way through your love story.
Source: https://pin.it/1Ody1B9
Asmodeus
It’s been a hectic week and you both decided to spend some time together painting each other's nails. So here you were, coating Asmo’s perfectly shaped nails in pink and cyan varnish. He was in the middle of telling you another gossip he heard around school when he noticed you spacing out. We obviously can't have that.
"…and apparently Lucifer and Diavolo are going to implement a ban on D.D.D's during classes. I mean can you believe it? How am I gunna- Hello? Helloooo? Ugh! Are you even listening? This is a matter of life and death here and you're spacing out! What's so important that you can't even give me ALL your attention, Darlinnnn >:("
"Shit sorry! It's just that your hand would be absolutely perfect with a ring on it"
He thinks you're absolutely right. He starts going on a tangent, talking about what gems look radiant on him and how he can smell a fake one from a mile away. Through the middle of his TedTalk, his eyes brightened and a gasp left his mouth. You thought something went wrong, but he waved it off—saying he just remembered something unimportant.
It was obviously not unimportant when you're greeted by a rock-like object the next day. You picked it up and to your surprise, it opened. To be fair, you live with the 7 embodiments of sins and are currently in a place called "Devildom" so rocks opening up is pretty normal. Surrounded by what looks like amethyst was a beautiful rose gold ring with a ruby in the middle. After the lesson about Rings for Asmo 101, you immediately knew who it was from.
On the first day of getting the ring, Asmo went around the House of Lamentation to show all the brothers the little matching jewelry. After that, he always makes sure to wear it and find an outfit that compliments it.
Sources: https://pin.it/7OUqL1M
https://www.etsy.com/listing/1267937483/lab-created-ruby-engagement-ring-white?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=red+rose+ring&ref=sc_gallery-22-10&pro=1&frs=1&col=1&plkey=6b56868d9bcc21083487e78ae10ba9c5dbef7462%3A1267937483
HOLYBSHR THERES A PART TWO
idk if I turned on anon so please use this request and delete the other one thank you
but yeah same anon who requested pt2, idm a continuation but I had more boys in mind initially :)
“You Called, Master?” (pt. 2)
part one / part one (cont.)
characters: baizhu, itto, thoma, xiao, zhongli
summary: maid!reader walks in on their master getting off.
genre: smut
warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns); pet names (love, dear/est, darling, babe), unprotected, minor breeding (xiao), master-maid dynamic; not proofread!!
note: apologies for the long wait!! i’ve been dealing with some mental and physical health issues these past few months, so i’m just now working on a bunch of requests! oh, and congrats to itto for getting his own section <3
your master was… eccentric, to say the least. you weren’t quite sure how he could afford to pay you, considering you rarely ever saw him taking on work. despite his repeated lateness in providing a paycheck, your master as a kind and lively man - he treated you more as an old friend than a servant. you were finishing up the last of your daily chores when you heard your master gasp in his room. believing him to be injured, you rushed inside, only to find your master sprawled out atop his bed with his dick in his hand.
— itto was in shambles, letting out low groans and sighs as his nails left crescent-shaped marks in your skin. he held your thighs in an iron grip as he fucked himself stupid between them, so selfishly refusing to bury himself inside you despite your whines and begs for him to do so. “not yet… don’ wanna spoil all the fun, right?” your master chuckled between labored breaths, your only respite being the sensation of his cock sliding against your pussy lips. you sobbed, “master, please” and the oni felt his resolve growing weak. “alright-alright babe…” he hushed you, spreading your thighs as he repositioned. “i’ll give you what you want, huh? just don’t come cryin’ to me when it’s too much…” he punctuated his warning with a snap of his hips, bottoming out in a single thrust. your master uttered string of low curses at the sheer tightness, even as you begged for more still. one shallow thrust was all it took for him to fall apart. “okay-okay– jus’ lemme know if i’m too rough. wouldn’t want to break you so soon…”
this was so inappropriate, he was well aware - you didn’t even belong to him. you were employed by another, a master who had no interest in taking you for themselves. he fantasized about you being his, calling him your master and surrendering yourself to him fully. what would you look like on your knees for him? smiling so sweetly, taking his cock between your lips and sucking him off like a good little maid? he didn’t realize that he let out a low groan of your name until he heard a gasp from the doorway.
— thoma was so sweet, so slow while sliding into your slick folds, sighing when he finally bottomed out. “you– hahh– you feel amazing…” he whined after the first thrust, his head spinning and cock twitching inside you. “so good… for your master, huh?” his voice cracked - it hadn’t even been a minute, and he was already broken. with your skirt bunched up and balled in his fists, he tried to control his growing urge to pound you into the futon. but, when you moaned “master thoma” oh so prettily… he inhaled slowly and mumbled a quick apology before pulling out and slamming back in balls deep. “never felt this good…” the room was filled with the lewd noise of skin against skin as he fucked all of his fantasies into you, caring little for the other servants who might hear. what were they going to do, remove the kamisato clan’s finest retainer for claiming what was his? thoma couldn’t recall the last time he felt so possessive. “gonna cum? please, please cum on my dick! c’mon, love, i want it so bad…”
— xiao didn’t know how to react when you laid yourself out for him. you, his pretty little mortal, all on display… he wasn’t gentle with his first thrust, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of filling your cunt over and over again. “fuck– i should be your master, i should be the one takin’ care of you…” he had an iron grip on the sheets as he pounded into you relentlessly, savoring every moan and sob of his name that left your lips. “say you’re mine, mortal… say you belong to me…” he burrowed his face in the crook of your neck and groaned, rutting into you so forcefully that the headboard hit the wall every other thrust. xiao couldn’t get enough, he felt drunk every time your pussy sucked him back in. you thanked the divine that wangshu inn was in such a remote location; if there were any guests tonight, their slumbers would surely be disturbed by the adeptus staking his claim on you. “you better not have an early morning tomorrow, ‘cause i don’t plan on letting you rest until the sun is up…”
your master was always such a gentleman. never asking too much of you, never talking to you unkindly, always offering you fresh tea during your breaks… yes, you were very thankful to be employed by such a kind man. one can imagine your surprise when you entered his home office, expecting to see your master hard at work as per usual. instead, you were greeted with the sight of your master, with his head tilted back against his office chair and mouth agape as he sighed while stroking himself.
— zhongli was a traditional man in everything but payment - all of your paychecks were signed by his boss or a mysterious “friend.” you had to admit, there was nothing traditional about the way he held your head, his slender fingers using your hair to force you up and down his shaft. “apologies, dearest–” he groaned, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “i’ll make sure that you are compensated handsomely for this…” your master’s hips stuttered, a raspy sigh spilling from his lips. you soon learned that your “compensation” was sitting in your master’s lap with his cock stuffed impossibly deep, making you squirm and bite your lip to muffle the obscene noises you let out every time you dropped your hips. “there you go, ah– good, just like that…” his gloved hands dug into the flesh of your ass as he helped you lift yourself up, your legs already thoroughly spent due to your master’s demand that you cum twice for every time he does. “you’ve done so well for me, dear… i believe a raise will be in order after tonight.”
— baizhu was gentle as he pushed down against your shoulders, his eyes unmoving as you lowered to your knees. he was always kind, always attentive to your needs as you are to his. but, right now, your master was focused on chasing his own high rather than attending to you. “good, good… you’re doing so well, darling…” he cooed as you sucked him off, with one hand tangled in your hair and the other wiping away the drool at the side of your mouth. the slide of your warm tongue against his shaft was all it took for your master’s hips to buck up from his chair and a stuttering gasp to leave his parted lips. “oh– someone’s a fast learner, hm?” he let out a breathless chuckle and affectionately carded his fingers through your hair once more. “now, now… let’s take this slow,” his gentle grip tightened as he guided your head at a far more languid pace, drawing out his own orgasm - and by extension, yours. you let out a pathetic moan around his cock, a beg for him to pick up the pace. “we have all day to play, darling… no need to rush.”
taglist: @stygianoir , @plasmasimagination , @minimoniac
The AMOUNT of passion given through this fic is just 😳🤚🤌🤌🤌✨ literally gonna go feral for a part two
A fall from grace (Yandere! Sub! Childe)
Characters: Yandere! Sub! Childe x Dom! Gn! Reader
Themes for the whole story: yandere, obsessive behavior, s/m themes, self-choking, masturbation, mentions of death and suicide (brief mention, not part of plot), Childe being gross towards the end
This is pretty much a slow-burn so strap in, gets interesting towards the end :’)
It was a peculiar feeling. Tartaglia can’t quite recall the last time he had felt this intensely about another human being. Or anything else for that matter.
One can imagine how truly strange it was to him once he had found somebody who had genuinely piqued his interests. At the start, he wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was about you that got him wrapped around your little finger.
Keep reading
— a short and casual genshin impact otome game.
⟣ 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 ⟢
┊ (Windows 🪟, Linux 🐧, or Mac 🍎 only!)
◇ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬? ◇
Just a simple something I had in mind for a Genshin otome game... I have 0 attention span, 0 time, and 0 knowledge to write and build a full-fledged 3D game with intricate stories, plot, and mechanics. This is just a simple visual novel with a streamlined plot and partial voices. You should be able to complete everything in like... 30 minutes long in total. Might be less, even.
◇ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ◇
The game will contain the following: established relationship, FLUFF, comfort, lots of pet names, suggestive themes, lots of kissy sounds on some routes, implications of violence (not towards player), a sprinkle of protective behavior
◇ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ◇
Zhongli, Xiao, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Itto, Kazuha (Zhongli is selected by default because who doesn’t love geo daddy???)
◇ 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫? ◇
This is a very self-indulgent project, hence the dialogues were written with fem!player in mind. It will contain suggestive themes, so please be aware of that before downloading / playing!
◇ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲? ◇
Yes, it's totally free - in fact, I do not accept payment.
◇ 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲? ◇
Click the link to download the appropriate file based on your OS. Only Windows, Linux, and Mac are supported. No, I won't release it on other platforms.
Open the game, and you’ll find that it’s pretty straightforward. Customize your profile, select your love interest, then start the game.
There are no wrong answers and the love interest can be changed anytime (just go back to main menu and select the character’s picture on the right side).
◇ 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬? ◇
You can personally send links to this post / the game’s itch.io page to your friends via DMs, but outside of that (reposting), NO. For example, posting about this on Reddit is prohibited.
◇ 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞? ◇
This is a super casual project.
Scripts are not proofread. Probably lots of grammar mistakes.
Novel format without narration (full dialogs).
There are no actual sprites, just official art and something akin to a speech bubble to cater to the characters’ changes in ‘expression’.
There are voices, but only partial - mostly just grunts, chuckles, kisses, and stuff. I’m using JP voices EXCEPT for Itto because Max Mittelman is a gem. No, I will not add other languages' voice versions.
Sound cues and voices are quite important for this game so I recommend using headphones.
Depending on when you open the game (morning, afternoon, nighttime, midnight), your currently selected love interest might greet you differently.
To reiterate, there are no wrong answers.
Selecting all talk/act options for a character will unlock a small event where they'll give you unique gifts.
I lowkey have so many ideas on how to expand on this in terms of gameplay and options but let’s be real here it probably won’t happen lol why can’t my brain be this creative when it comes to work
◇ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐮𝐬??? ◇
No... That said, anyone can literally say that. Please be responsible for your own actions.
I have also released other games on the same itch.io profile, so this isn't my first rodeo. Feel free to check the reviews on those before making your decision if you're wary about downloading!
◇ 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ◇
hyv please don't sue me i gain 0 dollars for this and i just wanna simp in peace
⟐ 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜 🄸 𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑.𝚒𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 🄸 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ⟐
© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ do not repost or share without permission. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
ੈ✩‧₊˚ “pussy put his ass to sleep, now he callin’ me NyQuil…”
Suguru x fem!reader
Suguru used to swear off relationships, he liked to fuck and labels were exhausting. He felt strongly about this, until he had met you. He liked the intimacy, the connection, and the safety he felt with you. At times, he wondered the possibility of soulmates with the way you two seemed to fit into each other so naturally.
Your pussy being able to put him in a coma was just a bonus.
Suguru had sweat dripping from his brow, his eyes shut tight as he felt the warm stickiness of your wet cunt wrapped tightly around his thick cock. The feeling of Suguru's tip hitting your cervix nearly made you stop breathing. His cock leaking into you as he whined into your ear, “so fuckin’ good!” getting lost in the feeling of your tight cunt sucking him in. He had you in missionary, wanting needing to see your reactions every time he pounded into you roughly. Your nails dug into his soft skin, your mouth wide open letting cries of pleasure bounce on the wall.
“Guru’, R-right there!” You let out a silent scream as a strong pressure fills your cunt. He sped up, biting your shoulder to hush his own moans and indulge in yours. “wa-it, suguru!—“ you gasped, trying to push him away. He laughed breathily at your attempts, pinning your hands above you head as your eyes began to water. “Nuh uh, not going anywhere..” moving one hand to your waist to lift you up a little, perfectly battering the most sensitive part of you. You squirmed as your vision started to blur, the intense feeling made your legs shake and release liquid from your swollen and puffy pussy. You laid there lifeless, trying to breathe as suguru pulled away to watch the way you twitched.
“Look at this pussy~” he cooed when you tried to close your legs, his fingers too much for how sensitive you’ve become. He pulled them apart, a sadistic look in his eye as he let a glob of cool spit land on your soaked cunt, using his thumb to spread it. You bit your lip to hold back a whine, your back arching off the bed. “Is it too much?” Your glossy eyes met his and you nodded. He leaned down to kiss your lips, “you still gonna’ help me cum?” You paused before nodding again, a little sniffle coming from you when you felt his dick grind against you.
“Such a good girl, my perfect girl..” he praised, pulling back to watch his tip push into you again. He looked at the way your brows furrow, a small whimper leaving your glossy lips. Suguru smirked before shoving himself into you fully, taking a sharp intake of breath and letting his head roll back, “fu—uck..”
you immediately tried to pull away only for him to grab your soft hips. “Don’t run baby—you can take it.” His voice strained, fucking into you harder than before, finally chasing his own release. His hand wrapped around your throat, your voice squeaking up higher as you begged for him to use you. You reached up to tweak his nipples making a shiver run up his spin, a choked moan escaping him. “That’s it baby, take that fuckin’ dick.”
He curled himself into your neck when he came, continuing his rutting to work the both of you through your orgasms. He came a lot, purring as you whispered affirmations to him. “Love your pussy..” he muttered into your ear, kissing your neck while trying to level his breathing and wrap his arms around you. You smiled and played with his hair, knowing how much he loves the feeling.
After noticing how quiet it got, you got suspicious. “suguru?” Looking down, only to notice he had fallen asleep, still inside of you and on top of you. You groaned and rolled your eyes, “get up! suguru?! You do this every time-“ you were cut off with a whine and silence again. Maybe you should’ve riden him instead…
A/n; saw some fan art of him and now he won’t leave my mind🛌 also, thinking of writing hockey player!suguru, can’t get the image of him skating with his long hair flowing behind him he’s so fucking fine.
-
libraryofdesires reblogged this · 3 months ago -
lilipalip liked this · 3 months ago -
urmydaylychoco liked this · 4 months ago -
watanabehan liked this · 4 months ago -
zealouschaosnacho liked this · 4 months ago -
viennasc liked this · 6 months ago -
acutelilmess liked this · 8 months ago -
jeckysly liked this · 9 months ago -
indcency liked this · 9 months ago -
mintchip17 liked this · 9 months ago -
mayluvpillow liked this · 10 months ago -
payi11-19 liked this · 10 months ago -
sootufff liked this · 10 months ago -
ellisaab liked this · 1 year ago -
lonesumrainbow liked this · 1 year ago -
darkerrdaze liked this · 1 year ago -
mooshsh liked this · 1 year ago -
multistancheck reblogged this · 1 year ago -
multistancheck liked this · 1 year ago
-
aeriiucheri liked this · 1 year ago -
mjailene15 liked this · 1 year ago -
catstries liked this · 1 year ago -
danithilette liked this · 1 year ago -
datoneconversegirl liked this · 1 year ago -
alm334 liked this · 1 year ago -
skzstaa0325 liked this · 1 year ago -
seehyel liked this · 1 year ago -
woniewonwoo liked this · 1 year ago -
clauuuuuwu liked this · 1 year ago -
btsmylovesblog liked this · 1 year ago -
kopikokrunch liked this · 1 year ago -
theearthling liked this · 1 year ago -
skz-queen liked this · 1 year ago -
fxrnwehsworld liked this · 1 year ago -
exquenis liked this · 1 year ago -
katarinaburzan liked this · 1 year ago -
luv-123 liked this · 1 year ago -
felixfreckles-blog liked this · 1 year ago -
lilcinnxmoroll liked this · 1 year ago -
skzreader80394 liked this · 1 year ago -
wnterslnd liked this · 1 year ago -
hyunlixwife liked this · 1 year ago -
sowoozoomoo liked this · 1 year ago -
beatricedrev liked this · 1 year ago -
joyyyxxxxss liked this · 1 year ago -
yoonyuns liked this · 1 year ago -
hwangkarina liked this · 1 year ago
Daikon | 20 my reblogs are the good shit i find from my trecherous journeys across this placemostly just horny shit tho...
234 posts