#not utc sorry

[petrichorium]

Wanted to have all my pairings in one place so here they are!

Me and Kuroo as Duchess and O’Malley:

Me and Shanks as Buttercup and Westley:

Me and Jing Yuan as a white queen and black knight:

Me and Tomura as an enderman and ender pearl:

Me and Gagamaru as Evie and O’Connell

#event.🌧 halloween ball #not utc sorry #ss.🌧 tetsuvi #ss.🌧 shuvi #ss.🌧 yujing #ss.🌧 tomuvi #ss.🌧 gagaplu

[qiekzart]

day 22 drawing len until my preorder arrives

hi! sorry for yet another day with no requests, i just need a tiny break but i think ill be good soon!! thanks for ur patience everyone ^_^ sorry 4 bad art </3

u can send requests in my askbox ο(=•ω＜=)ρ⌒☆ (3 requests in askbox as of writing)

#queued for around 10pm utc+8:00 because i fucked up my sleep schedule so ill be asleep bcuz its like 11am now and i cant sleep #SORRY FOR LACK OF GOOD ART RECENTLY BTW!! dissociation makes it hard for me to do things on time <//3 bcuz time is weird.. #also i need some breaks sometimes lol #kagamine len #my art #art #drawing len everyday until my preorder arrives #vocaloid fanart #this queue thign BETTER WORJ

[somniumfae]

things i draw instead of doing art fight (sorry)

#suggestive #artposting #she said what she said. #idk if i should put these utc but like #idk yall are following a selfship blog surely u anticipate seeing posts like this #sorry for the gevie undies jumpscare tho LMFAOOOO

[hanlimz]

I JS CHECKED N UR SEEINF ENHA ON BEST FRIENDS BIRTHDAY (who is very much hoon biased) AND IM LAUGHING IDK WHY

i hope you have a great timne bae if you have send off tix (i cant remember) tell hoon i love him <3

SOOOOO LATE ANSWERING THIS TOO BUT!!! HERE ARE MORE CONCERT PICS!!!!!! i hope ur bsf had a very very happy birthday 🤞🥹

first pic is the sky outside after we got in line!! it lowk cold so my mom gave me her jacket .. common cass mom W 🫡 / second pic is my concert fit from a different day bc i didn’t get any good pics there hahaha / then third pic is after the concert when i was almost in tears LOL

these we both during future perfect, just a before and after!!

this was won introducing jay, jake, sunoo, and sunghoon for tfw (i’m pretty sure)!! he ate every speech up .. they lowk barely used their translator, but the concert was scripted n i could see the screen so it was pretty funny!!

these we my bbgs playing tfw and my irl husband devouring his guitar solo LIKE??? THATS MY MANNNN

anyways!!!! tumblr won’t let me add any more pictures bc it hates me but lmk if u or ur bestie needs any more hoon pics ☝️😼 LOVE YOU NYX MWAHHHHH

#; — cass answers: nyx 🌌 #enha concert dump utc bc i said so #SORRY FOR RANTING ABT IT!!!! #I LOVE U NYXXX

[ao3org]

We're looking into issues causing site slowness and error pages. Very sorry, will let you know as soon as we know more!

(17:48 UTC March 28, 2024)

We had to restart a database, so the site will continue to be slow or non-responsive as it recovers. Please be gentle with the Archive, and stand by for further updates.

(17:58 UTC March 28, 2024)

Doing the gentlest possible thing to help out our database server: taking the Archive down for a bit. No need to panic, we'll be back as soon as we can!

(18:03 UTC March 28, 2024)

#ao3 #archive of our own #downtime

[leaderwon]

Heyyyy, could you do s/o getting in a dating scandal with a member of another group?

Gave so many signals just to get shipped with someone else !?

OR

you get shipped with another idol

luna's diary : TYSM FOR REQUESTING <33 so sorry for the late response I was a bit busy. I hope you like it!!!

rest of the members UTC !

@leaderwon 2024. Do not copy, translate, alter, repost or plagarize in any platform.

#k labels #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #enhypen texts #enhypen fake texts #heeseung #jay #jake #Sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #niki #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen comfort #enhypen reactions #enhypen imagines #leaderwon #enhypenfanfic #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay

[all4yoi]

was it just a game to you?

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ poor attempt on angst , lowercase intended , hand holding ( not w u! xd ) , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part two here !

catching them holding hands with another girl after they accepted your confession 

confessing to them was already on your monthly bucket list, but them accepting it and liking you back certainly wasn't. feeling ecstatic, you walk towards your university's glass doors only to find him holding hands with a female that certainly isn't you.

★ LEE HEESEUNG

eyes trained on their hands clutched tightly on to one another, you watch silently as the girl smiled up at him shyly, tucking a strand of her hair with her empty hand.

doubt began overtaking you. right, who would choose someone like you over someone like karina? she was everything you weren't. perfect face, perfect body, she's kind, and absolutely beautiful. if you were heeseung, you would choose her too.

you flinched as you made eye contact with the girl holding hands with someone who should be yours. she sent you a smile, a genuine one. not mocking, nor insulting. she didn't have any idea about the conversation last night you shared with the man she's holding hands with.

she didn't know about how he smiled at you brightly, didn't know about the hug you two shared, and absolutely didn't know about how he said he liked you too. so how could you hate and blame her?

before you could even send a smile back at her, heeseung turned around and instantly took his hand back when his gaze landed on your stiff body.

instead of making a scene, you showed them the best smile you could muster despite the quiver on your lips before quickly walking away towards your first class.

heeseung panicked, turning to karina.

"you're a great friend karina, but i don't feel the same. i'm sorry."

with that, he ran after you hoping you would hear him out and let him explain.

other members utc!

★ PARK JONGSEONG

you felt your mood instantly drop. yesterday he promised he would prove to you how much he liked you back too, now he's holding hands with a pretty girl.

your eyes quickly met his and the way he quickly took his hand back from the girl made you even more upset. you watched as the female said something incoherent to him before he approached you hastily.

he stood infront of you, worry written all over his face. your frowned deepened, betrayal making your chess heavy.

"it's not what it looked like, i promise." jay whispered that only you could hear. he didn't want you doubting his feelings for you, he was merely helping the girl up after he had bumped into her. she insisted on shaking his hand after telling him her name, it was such wrong timing that you saw.

he didn't mean to hurt you.

"it's okay. i'll see you later jay." was all you said before walking away with a small smile. he watched your figure become smaller and smaller until he lost your figure to the students crowding the halls.

despite the smile on your pretty face, jay knew he had hurt you badly and he intended on fixing that. for now, he'd give you space.

★  SIM JAEYUN

his hand was instantly removed from hers as soon as you saw it. you didn't know what to feel. were you supposed to be glad that he immediately let her go as soon as your eyes met his? still, you don't know for how long he has been holding her hand before you even saw.

but then again, you two weren't together. so who were you to be mad? he liked you back sure, but he wasn't your boyfriend. he could hold hands with anyone he'd like. but was it bad to hope that he'd only do those things with you?

you couldn't help the tears falling down your cheeks. immediately, you felt ashamed. ashamed for crying about something so stupid like this, so you did what everyone would've done.

you ran, ignoring his desperate calls for you. and even when he caught up with you and brought you to his chest, the tears didn't stop. you mentally cursed yourself for being so sensitive.

pushing yourself away from him, you wiped away the tears.

"i can explain, please."

"it's fine jake, really. i just wish you would've been more honest with me." lips wobbly as you attempted a small smile, jake's heart broke as he watched you walk away from him again.

★  PARK SUNGHOON

you didn't know what to do. there he was, holding hands with the prettiest girl in campus with other students fawning over them. exclaims on how good they looked together echoed through your ears.

maybe he only said he liked you back to make fun of your reaction with his friends. maybe it was a lousy bet between him and his friends to make you believe he actually liked you back.

"don't they look absolutely good together? seriously, sunghoon and wonyoung, literally everyone here expected them to get together at some point" a random student told you, her smile wide as she observed the two, who were still holding hands.

the way he stiffened and dropped her hand as soon as your eyes met his brought you back to reality. blending in with the crowd in the halls, you attempted to escape his line of sight, desperate to leave before the tears in your tear ducts escape.

you were forced to halt when you felt a strong grip on your forearm. sunghoon turned you around to face him, his brows furrowed whilst he bit his bottom

"y/n.." he gulped as he saw how your eyes got teary immediately. "i'm sorry, it's not like that at all."

"so why were you holding her hand? with the biggest smile on your face?" he kept his mouth shut, unable to form an answer. this only made you frustrated even more.

pulling your arm back, you cleared your throat and looked down on your shoe. "you could've turned me down instead of making me hope- nevermind.. see you around."

sunghoon watched you walk away from him helplessly, mentally beating himself up for not clearing things up.

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen angst #jake x reader #heeseung x reader #sunghoon x reader #park jay x you #jay x reader #enhypen jay #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #heeseung angst #jake angst #jay angst #sunghoon angst #heeseung imagines #jake imagines #jay imagines #sunghoon imagines #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x female reader

[perdidit-vulpes]

... sometimes. being plural is miserable. end of story, no ifs buts or ors about it.

his safe foods taste absolutely vile and i don't know how anyone could eat this but his dumb macro shit "oh we need to have at least 75g of protein a day" SHUT UP ohmygod we need like 40g that's IT we don't have to shove protein bars down our throat to hit that i promise OR WE CLD JUST BE FUCKING DEFICIENT IN THAT TOO I DON'T FUCKING MIND you're soooooo caught up in being "healthy" it's so fucking annoying PLUS WE LITERALLY HAD 200g THE OTHER DAY. we don't need that much i don't want muscle mass !!!!!!! i don't want any mass at all and i'm sure ranger can agree. it's all "majority rules" until majority isn't in your favour

#ed shit utc i'm too tired to translate it rn sorry

[megistusdiary]

cough hybrid human/puppy reader who hides that they’re in heat but arlecchino notices anyway and fixes it

thank u ly (guess who hehehehe)

i bet you totally forgot about this, baby 😓

but i will do my best 😁

(nsfw utc - tw hybrid puppy fem reader, fingering, knotted strap usage, breeding kink)

you tiptoe carefully past her office, not wanting to disturb her. you've memorized which floorboards make slightly too much noise, the times she occasionally leaves, and you think you've found the perfect window to sneak past.

until you hear her voice.

"you've been avoiding me." arlecchino comments from inside her office.

the door was left open, giving you the false notion she'd stepped out briefly, and you wince, freezing in place-

"i know you're there. come in." she orders, and you, like the good puppy you are, obey.

you step in, closing the door behind you and locking it at her request. your tail wags lowly, nervously behind you when she beckons you forward.

she urges you to sit on her lap, facing her, of course, holding your hips with clawed hands. she can barely open her lips before you hug her tightly, pressing your chest against hers.

"i'm sorry!" you apologize quickly, soft ears brushing her face. "didn't mean to... it's just... that time."

"oh." she pauses. "why didn't you tell me, sweetheart?"

"i didn't want to bother you." comes your reply, causing her to cup your cheek gently.

"you're never a burden to me." she tells you honestly, kissing your cheek softly. "would you like me to help you?"

"i'm fine on my own-"

"i can feel you practically soaking through my pants." she interrupts, arching an eyebrow as your face heats up beneath her hand. "strip."

faster than she can speak again, you're tearing your clothes off, sitting naked in her lap, tail perked up and wagging as she leans back to drink in your fully exposed form.

"such a pretty girl, aren't you?" she hums thoughtfully, petting your ears, sliding down to hold your throat. "a good puppy for me, hm?"

"yes, yes- a good puppy, just for you- only for you." assurances fly from your lips eagerly, nearly pouncing on her as she pulls you in for a tender kiss.

her fingers slide down your stomach slowly, teasingly, until she reaches your pussy. she finds you wet, sliding her fingers across your cunt, circling your clit with your slick.

you feel her fingers at your entrance, purposefully blunted to slide into you, hearing soft, wet sounds as they stretch you out. you whine loudly, tail smacking her thigh as she lets you ride her fingers to your heart's content.

"feels good, doesn't it?" she asks, enjoying your rapid nodding, how you grip her shoulder. she holds your jaw with her free hand. "but, i don't want you getting too worked up. not before i show you your surprise." she pats your cheek, pulling her fingers out while you whimper, feeling empty.

she leans over to dig through her drawer, pulling out a rather large looking strap with a more bulbous base. "arle?" you ask with a shaky tone. "is that..."

"does that unsettle you? or, rather, does it excite you, puppy?" she smirks slightly when your tail wags harder.

she pulls you up so she can fasten the strap over her pants, admiring the slight power imbalance between you as you eagerly mount her strap. you shakily kneel, feeling her swipe the tip across your pussy, slapping it onto your clit gently.

she stretches you out carefully, adoring your whimpers and breathy sighs. "taking me so well, sweetheart."

your hips, bounce against hers, tits bouncing at the same time, entrancing her as she leans down to kiss your chest. she leaves sharp bites across your skin, feeling you shudder while she fucks her strap into you deeper.

the knot knocks at your entrance, begging to plug you up, and the feeling drives you crazy. your hands struggle to hold onto her slippery coat, blunt claws ruining the expensive fabric. her grunts are like music to your ears, and you can't help but wonder what that knot will feel like.

"want you to breed me, arle! please! please fill me up-" you cry for her, leaning in to bite at her neck as she grinds her hips up into your g-spot until she finally decides you're ready to take the full strap.

she gently pops it into you, hearing you scream and tremble at the sensation, cumming around the faux cock so hard you nearly push it out as you fall limply against her, teeth buried into the shoulder of hers you've exposed.

she groans, holding your hips firmly before bouncing you shallowly, hearing your broken moans and cries. "mine. my puppy. my pretty little toy." she mumbles, pounding your cunt until you flutter around her again, eyes rolling back as you coat her in your slick, shaking in her arms while she gently eases you back down.

she keeps you plugged up regardless, petting your head. "such a good girl, taking my cock like such a good little puppy. rest now, you've more than earned it. we'll discuss the rest of your heat when you wake up."

#genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #genshin wlw #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino x you #arlecchino smut #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚ #💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 #🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´

[knavesflames]

PLSPSLSOLD ARLECCHINO WHISPERING DIRTY THINGS INTO FEM READERS EAR WHILE SHE RIDES HER DICK

HELLOOOO sorry I’ve been a bit absent I just was super super busy :-( but here you go!! This situation got me thinking thoughts frfr

Contents: dick riding, praise, reader just wants to make cupcakes omg

Word count: 1135

Nsft utc<3

When you were baking this morning, you certainly didn’t expect to end up where you are now. I mean, surely it’s expected by now, with Arlecchino as your girlfriend. You should know by now that she’s prone to suddenly coming up behind you and turning you into putty with a few simple touches and whispers against your ear. But the cupcakes, you protest, but by the time you finish your sentence, you’re already breathless, the back of your dress slowly unzipping, thanks to the charred hands belonging to Arlecchino. Her nails softly scratch at the skin of your back, a place she knows you adore. And you prove that, by shuddering at the sensation, a smirk spreading on her face. The cupcakes are half forgotten by now as she leads you away from the kitchen with her hand on your arm, lips brushing against your ear with every step she takes, the sound of heels on wood echoing the suddenly quiet room.

Before you can blink (or that’s what it feels like) her lips are on yours, moving in the perfect rhythm as her hand brushes against the shoulder of your dress. Already unzipped, it falls, past your shoulder, resting at your elbow and revealing the top part of your breast. She doesn’t hesitate in catching a nipple in her mouth, sucking and swiping her tongue over the ever hardening bud.

“So needy, hm?”

Her voice is a low rumble, one filled with amusement and desire she can’t seem to hide. Her hands take purchase around your waist, and you bury your head in her neck as you feel your hands fumbling with the belt of her trousers. She lets you fumble, your nipples now rolling between her thumb and forefinger, her lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

“Are you so excited you’ve forgotten how to undo a belt, love?”

You grumble in response, but your breath is taken away when she pinches your nipple, motivating you to hurry up, already. Hurry is what you do, your head rising to catch her lips in another kiss, fast, needy, passionate. Her belt finally comes loose, her buttons undone, and she bites back a groan as her dick springs out, hitting her lower stomach. Instead, she breathes out harshly, her hands finding your waist again as she sits on the abundance of blankets and pillows (your choice, of course, she doesn’t see a need for it, but she secretly adores the smile you develop when you find a new pillow you like). Her hands drag her on to you, two fingers making their way between your legs, dragging across your slit to collect the slick that’s been gathered there. She hums in approval, giving herself a few pumps, distributing said stick to her dick from her fingers before she speaks.

“You’re soaked. We haven’t even started and you’re making a mess.”

You whimper quietly in response as she drags the tip across your slit, teasing you. Your hips move, grinding against it, your head falling forward as your face twists in pleasure. She lets you, her breathing speeding up, though she remains silent. When Arlecchino decides you’re finished with that, she doesn’t even give you a warning, slipping herself into you and letting out a sharp puff of air the same time you groan. Your head falls into her neck once more as she starts gently, small, shallow thrusts.

“God, you’re good. So good, good girl.”

Her voice is strained, it isn’t difficult to tell she’s holding back on making any sounds at all. Why she does this, you don’t know, but it’s so much hotter watching her face of struggle, her head tilted back, her eyes closed and her mouth open in silent moans. Her hands tighten around your waist, her sharp, sharp nails threatening to dig into the soft skin that lays upon you. She lets you do the work, riding her and getting what you need, but she’s so close to just holding you there and thrusting into you instead. She likes control, she likes to control the pace, and most of all, she likes to be the one to control when you orgasm over her.

“Keep riding me, pretty girl. You’re taking me so well. You can take all of me, look at you. Your pretty cunt is so greedy for me.”

Only she knows how much she loves whispering to you while you ride her, how much she loves watching your cheeks dust with pink, and your mouth opening and closing, only to open in a quiet moan. You and her both know the praise she gives you only spurs you on. You ride harder, the sound of skin meeting skin sounding over and over again as you bounce on her, a little harder every so often when Arlecchino can’t help but spear you on her cock.

And when your legs start trembling, your grip on her shoulders gets tighter and your moans get louder, she finally, finally lets out a grunt of pleasure, her hands shifting just slightly to position herself right before she stops your movements. Not a second of hesitation occurs before her hips start moving, thrusting up into you again and again. She makes sure the tip of her nestles into that spongy spot inside of you again and again, relishing in the mewls and moans coming from your pretty lips.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Take it, doll, I know you can.”

Her thrusts stay fast until you cry out, a signal that your orgasm is fast approaching, sweat beading on your forehead. She changes her pattern, hard, slow and deep, just to prolong the pleasure, just enough to make you wait.

“Do you want to cum, pretty girl?”

A nod so urgent and a gasping breath, a shaky “yes” ringing out so loud it sounds like the walls are speaking back, and her thrusts return to their original pace.

“Then cum. Cum all over my cock. You make such pretty faces when you cum, so keep your eyes open. Keep them open or I stop.”

You know she isn’t joking. She’s done it before, stopped and waited. Cockwarmed you until the high of the almost orgasm ebbed away before starting again, the same command in place. So, your eyes stay open, rolling back as the peak of the orgasm crashes over you like waves hitting the sand. Her thrusts slow to a stop, her lips meeting yours once again, though this time, slow and loving as you come back to reality, as both of you calm down. Once you do, her fingers caress your hair, moving it behind your ear as she kisses your forehead, her voice murmuring once more with a hint of a chuckle in it.

“Now, those cupcakes. Are they chocolate?”

#knavesflames #arlechinno genshin #genshin impact #arlebina #arlechinno x reader #arlefuri #arle #genshin smut #genshin wlw #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #arlecchino smut #arlecchino genshin #genshin impact arlecchino #arlecchino

[vampirzina]

❥ ┆valentines day (w. Bi Han, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Kuai Liang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Tomas + Liu Kang bonus!) hcs

tw: established relationship, fluff/sfw & nsfw/smut utc, mdni(!)

notes: happy valentine’s day chat! for a few, requests will be open. please read these before making them! closed! so sorry.

masterlist ⋮ lace divider credit

Bi Han didn’t really recognize the tradition, until you. To him, it was just another day, as most holidays—life in the Lin Kuei was much different than the one outside of it. So when you showered him with affection and adorned him with gifts unexpectedly, it kind of flustered him underneath that poker-faced and grumpy exterior of his. Bi Han gives you flowers (real and ones of ice), and the occasional silver jewelry every other year. It makes him subtly smile under his mask when he sees you wearing it.

It’s Johnny Cage’s second favorite day of the year, other than his birthday. If he remembers this day, he absolutely spoils you rotten to the core with gifts; flowers, chocolates, new clothes, rose petals in the bed and in a dimly lit bath (and if you drink, your favorite wine), the whole nine yards. It’s cliche, but Johnny Cage doesn’t let you leave until you’re completely loved up.

Kenshi takes a breather from all his outside work on this day to love on you. You wake up to an empty bed, but that’s because he’s cooking breakfast (or lunch) for you—he’s exceptional at it, and you both thoroughly enjoy your day with each other. Kenshi prefers spending Valentine’s day inside, but if you want to go out, he’ll take you anywhere you want to go and buy you whatever you want. Of course, you do the same and he is very happy, even if he doesn’t explicitly say so.

Kuai Liang already has his gifts laid out for you. He planned in advance; duty calls and he wouldn’t be able to spend the morning or so with you in his warm embrace, so that he could greet you as soon as you woke and smother you with hot kisses. Kuai Liang leaves a heartwarming letter, and when he comes back from his day, gives you an even warmer massage to kick things off a bit. Whatever happens next is completely up to you.

Kung Lao already knows you love him, but it’s nice to be reminded of that with your affection. In turn, he takes you out to a fancy (and surprisingly private) dinner in an unsung corner of Madam Bo’s shop (or some other fancy place), somewhere where you could see the stars in the night sky. He loves to look at the way your eyes gleam in the moonlight, and he says so outright amongst other loads of compliments. Kung Lao makes sure to make you laugh a ton tonight.

Raiden looks like a hopeless romantic today even though he's in a relationship with you. He plans almost months in advance; the flowers he planted were kept all year and were finally going to be harvested just to give you. Raiden makes an effort to give you everything you want, take you anywhere you want. You’re sure to return the favor at the end of the day with your own presents, whatever they may be.

Tomas spends the night before and the entire day of practically clinging to your side. You’ve never had a weighted blanket until now, and you both could’ve spent the entire day in bed if you’d let him have you that way (he’s already asked Kuai Liang for the day off). Tomas leaves the bed once you do, and when he comes back, he comes back with gifts. He got the flowers last because he wanted them to be as fresh as possible.

+ Liu Kang leaves a humble setup of a table full of gifts for you. He’s also the one to leave a sappy note of apology and not-all-that empty (but not all that full) promises to you, to return just before the night was over after his duty at the temple were done with. Although he believes he doesn’t need a holiday to want you the inexplicable way he does, he understands the holiday and humors you when he sees how much it makes you hot in the face for him.

However,

Don’t you dare take the jewelry off after Bi Han got you pressed into the mattress. With every tear into you, his eyes don’t just train on your damp fucked-out face twisted in overstimulation from him ruining your hole over and over again tonight. His eyes flit up to the sight of the ring on your finger peeking from the boughs of crinkled sheets from you holding on too tight, and your necklace jittering further from your sternum to neck with every thrust… Bi Han’s eyes screw shut as he hilts with sudden roughness, your surprised hiccup overlapping with the so-rare whimper as he pumps you full.

Or think that Johnny Cage would let the rose petals on the bed go to waste. Some of the petals have fallen off of the bed by now, and others are stuck in forgotten crevices. You can smell each others’ soap. The lingerie you’ve bought is somewhat torn by impatient fingers, as you take your sweet time with him beneath you. He hates when you tease, almost as if you’re playing his own game with him. He wants to grab your hips himself to quicken your pace, but he only has red hands from sharp slaps.

Kenshi feels you up in your shared bed as the night falls further into itself. Soft yet passionate, tattooed hands wrap around just about anything as you bounce atop of his dick firm enough to knock the wind out of him. His body trembles sharply when your core squeezes him that certain way it does, your sore knees wound inward while legs are kept apart by Kenshi’s abdomen partially sunken in from his breathlessness. Between your gasps and his groans, he can only keep himself to extend this moment for so long.

The massage with Kuai Liang didn’t get very far. You didn’t want it to. Your arms somehow feel cold compared to Kuai Liang’s as he’s practically searing your insides with the both of your slick, your neck having been a perfect fit for his head to hide in as your fingers carve your way into the scalp of undone hair. He’s caged in by your shaking legs on his hips, languid strokes in and out of you drawing soft cries and sighs from you. He’d go as fast or as gentle as you wanted him to today.

Kung Lao reveled in hearing you sing his name as you both faced the window. He was fast and rough, despite having been so soft the minute ago—he was like a man starved, but he was intent on making you finish first (this time). You didn’t know whether to keep in awe at the skies or look back at your lover as he pounded into your hole without tame in his stroke. The inner corners of his brows were pressed together in focus as he held you at the junction of your hips to guide you, and his lips were parted just enough to let out an occasional deep groan or shaky breath. The sounds from your room could make even the dirtiest a prude.

Raiden's face burned when you got around to giving him your gift. A set of fingers twine with yours as you look up at him from his dick, but you make eye contact with no-one—his arm is draped over his shut eyes as he focuses on keeping from combusting right then and there. Noises of his neediness slip out time to time and involuntarily, and he can’t help but drive his hips further into your mouth when you hum around him. He lets out one of those shaky and coarse sounds again when you both make eye contact, sketching you between his legs in his mind.

You realized any self restraint you’d thought Tomas had was all a fib when he coaxed your plush thighs around his head two hours ago. He didn’t even bother with what he wanted tonight, as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you with just his tongue. It’s sloppy down there; his mouth is drenched from your juices and you, his unceasing work with his mouth. He couldn’t settle for which sight of you he enjoyed the best; the arch of you lowering after he’d reel out a gentle one from you, or the messy, knee-buckling one when he did as he pleased with you.

+ Liu Kang who hated leaving you so needy. But tonight he’d do anything you wanted, something that would sate you even for a minute, and he wouldn’t finish until he was sure you were done spending out your want for him after he’d left you yearning and unfulfilled for so long. At the end of it all when he apologizes and holds you close to him, he only leaves you blissed out and gasping again. He can’t promise his return to you often, so he makes every minute fucking you worthwhile.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

info

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #bi han x reader #bi han x you #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang x you #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada x you #raiden x reader #raiden x you #kung lao x reader #kung lao x you #johnny cage x you #johnny cage x reader #kenshi takahashi x you #liu kang x reader #liu kang x you #bi han hcs #kuai liang hcs #tomas vrbada hcs #raiden hcs #kung lao hcs #johnny cage hcs #kenshi takahashi hcs #kenshi takahashi x reader #mk1 x reader #vampirzina

[candyn-gutz]

sorry. im straight up killing you if you hate fuyume

[just lineart utc because i. usually dont like how i paint ^-^]

#i spent too much time on the dress #i am going to sleep forever . goodbye #hanamura fuyume #ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars fanart #enstars fanart #4piece #eden draws

[qiekzart]

he fail in the minesweeper :(

its october the 4th you know what that means (day 4 of drawing kaiba every day of october). 4/10/2023

did not know how to take this so heres kaiba going thru every stage of grief at once bcuz he lost at minesweeper. do with this what you will

sorry for bad art i was eepy. if this is somehow a reference to smth i dont get then im going to go missing out of pure shame

[plz reblog] [requests still open read pinned for info.]

#queueing bcuz i might be asleep after im done drawign this other one. shoul be posted around 2:30pm utc+8:00 #also sorry for bad hands. i tried my best. i was staring at a reference the entir time tho #I AM SO SORRY FOR THE BAD ART! PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I WILL GET BETTER I REALLY PROMISE!!!!!!!!!! #art #my art #plz reblog #yugioh #ygo #yu gi oh #yugioh dm #yugioh duel monsters #yugioh kaiba #kaiba yugioh #yugioh fanart #uhmmm #seto kaiba #IM GONNA PUT EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA EFFORT INTO THE NEXT ART AS AN APOLOGY!!!!!!!!! #mokuba kaiba

[kyliegae]

Wouldn't mind requests she says.. hm then how about a soft smut for arlecchino ? I do love the way you wrote her and I'm a sucker for her being so in love with her s/o lol. Perhaps she saw you play with the children or help them with something and was overcome with the affection

Other than that I did mean to ask, are you excited for Wuthering Waves ? Some of these characters are kinda... 😳😳😳 Yinlin especially frfr

Oh and do you accept emoji anons ? Might be a bit easier lol, if you do could I have 🔥 ?

Have a lovely day :)

OMGGG HIII MY FIRST EMOJI ANON? HIIII 🔥 ANONN!!!:OO anyway, regarding WuWa, i have seen stuff about it but not really much updated about it since i've been busy but i do know that it's coming out tomorrow? iirc. but yea fear not for i WILL be playing it, BUT YEAAA yinlin omg and baizhi?? ughajshd who knows i might write about them too.. anyw enjoy anon!!!

-warning/s : NSFW, cunnilingus (r! receiving), tooth rotting fluff, super soft arlecchino, not proofread.

(men and minor dni utc!)

imo.. arlecchino is a person who genuinely loves and cares but prefers not to show emotion especially due to her profession and background (childhood too). she does not like being vulnerable at all and has trust issues with everyone, even the kids as they r still capable of betrayal, but she trusts you 100% with her vulnerability and what she sees as her "weaknesses" which is why she is more showy of her love and care towards you, hence why she is a lovesick fool for her s/o in my eyes hwjasdh sorry for yapping anyw here's ur fic that was supposed to be just a thirst.. haha.. this was also rushed and not proof-read so sorry for d mistakes.. HAHAHA (will elaborate about this behavior of hers in future fics..)

"f-father, may i have a moment?"

small hands tug on the harbinger's coat, and her deadpan eyes meet with those that belonged to a nervous toddler-- one of her children, to be specific. "what is it, my child?" she asked, tone devoid of any feeling, making it hard to guess what she was thinking, much to the child's anxiety of getting scolded by her.

"a-a.. a bouquet for you, father!"

frail little hands open up in front of her, a messy bundle of assorted wild flowers tied together with a sloppy ribbon had been presented to the knave. with a hum, the harbinger accepts the bouquet from the toddler's hands, gives her a pat on the head and the little darling scurries off.

her eyes follow the direction of where the child was headed to, the harbinger's curiosity was piqued and she wanted to know what had motivated the child to bring her flowers out of nowhere without any special occasion.

-- but as soon as she sees as to who the child runs to, she immediately has a clear answer to her question. of course, it was you, it was you who encouraged the child to give her flowers. with silent steps, she approached the slightly ajar of the bedroom's door, leaning on the wall next to it to hear your conversations with the child.

"ah, little love, have you given your father the bouquet you made?"

"y-yes mother! she even gave me a headpat.."

"hmm, now you see, my love? father is not scary at all, father can be strict with you, but it is only out of concern.. sharing is caring, little love, i am sure she'll appreciate a few flowers from time to time. now settle down, it is time for bed."

arlecchino stared at the "bouquet" in her hands, suddenly, it had more meaning to her than just a bunch of wild flowers. it was evidence of the child learning to give, and of course you were the one who taught them that. it was evidence of the child learning that they could be safe around her despite her outward appearance, and of course you were the one who assured them that. she was scary to most children, yes, for she had nurtured and raised them under the guise of a strict and unfeeling father just so she could raise them with proper discipline. although recently, even the younger kids, they have started to treat her more.. genuinely. ah, it must have been your doing. you must have been convincing them behind the scenes. she should hate you, for coaxing the kids in indulging with personal emotions that could cause them to have flaws as they grow up, but she doesn't. instead, she is thankful, because you've treated the kids with such gentleness and unconditional love-- she is thankful that you've treated her the same.

"oh! my beloved, have.. you been standing there all this time?"

a surprised gasp brings her back to her senses, the sound of the door closing behind her lover's back echoed through the hallway of the orphanage. "no, darling. i was simply checking up on you and the children, are they asleep?" arlecchino asks, choosing not to reveal to her wife that she had found out about your recent teachings. "yes, all tucked and away to dreamland." you smiled at her, walking up to her and pulling her in for a hug. the knave was not one for affection, that was made clear, but after a busy day- she cannot help but miss you too. "let's go to bed, my love. i wish to cradle you by my side tonight." you whisper to her ear, and arlecchino silently nods, her hand on your lower back.

as soon as you return to your bedroom with arlecchino, dressed in bed time clothes, the harbiner seemed to have other plans however as she immediately starts to pepper you with slow, soft and sensual kisses.

"my love, ah- you're.. strangely affectionate today, not that i don't like it, is there something on your mind?" you ask with that same gentle tone of yours, the same tone that reduces her to a lovesick fool whenever it's just you two, that lets her put down the wall she's built to let you in and show you what's inside her mind.

"nothing, my beloved.." she whispers, looking at you with adoration. it makes your heart skip a beat to see her like this. she leans in to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for taking care of the kids.

".. i just simply wish to express my feelings. isn't that what you teach within this household?"

she adds, which confuses you a little. you were unsure about what she exactly meant, but you let her regardless. "okay, my beloved. express your feelings then." you mumbled with a silly smile, finding arlecchino's actions a bit adorable- quite similar to the children, even. arlecchino nods, a look of determination paints her face for a moment, then she leans in to kiss your cheek.

a silent thank you for loving her and seeing through her harsh demeanor. you can't help but feel flustered, feeling like a teenage girl and her first love.

she then moves on to kiss your neck in a ticklish manner, making you giggle, and it was music to her ears.

a silent thank you for introducing genuine warmth to the house of hearth. thanks to you, the orphanage burned with compassion and not with competitiveness. "beloved, aha- s-stop it!" you squirm with a chuckle, and arlecchino's face may not show it, but her heart is leaping at the sight of your gorgeous smile.

a kiss to your chest, making you gasp as her lips landed on your nipples. her tongue swirling gently around it, making you feel a subtle warmth from the intimacy of the moment.

a silent thank you for being a source of healing to her. before you, the word "mother" had brought chills up her spine, and she resented the word fiercely but after you? you had shown her what a real mother was like, and it's one of the many qualities you hold that she absolutely adores about you.

"mhm.. my beloved, is it gratitude that you wish to express?"

you asked, followed by a quiet moan as she releases your chest from her mouth with a pop. she was in awe of you, that you were able to read her mind without having to tell you. ".. yes, my beloved. how did you know?" she curiously asked, and you couldn't help but let out another chuckle. oh, this side of arlecchino was endearing, to see her openly express her thoughts. "you like to show your gratitude towards me in the form of kisses, arlecchino." you answered, bringing your hand to her head to pull her closer, then leaning in to kiss her forehead as well. "- but this is certainly the most intimate way you've shown it." you added, and she definitely felt a bit flustered. either way, arlecchino does not say a word, and chooses to continue expressing her emotions through actions.

her kisses go lower, and lower, and the sensitivity that you feel from increases.

silence rings throughout the room, except for your moans off the walls. her gratitude and devotion to you was as clear as day. her hands gently held you down by the hips as she pulled down your panties with her teeth. it was fucking hot, to see her hold you completely still with her strength alone-- and the eye contact that she kept as she stripped your pussy bare.

"my beloved, do i have permission?"

"of course, my love."

arlecchino knows that asking consent, despite it being already established beforehand, was a major turn on for you. she started by light kitten licks to your clit, making you gasp with each time her tongue made contact with the sensitive bud. the quick and light flicks were a tease, and made you tremble in anticipation.

"the mother of my children, what a pretty pussy you have.."

she mumbles in pure adoration, her breath lightly grazing against your exposed slit. you couldn't help but let out a shaky gasp of her name, "a-arlecchino.. please, do something.." you begged. "patience, my beloved." she answers, but dives right in between your legs to give your slit one, long, lick. it drove you crazy, but it felt so good. she slid her hands under your knees, bringing you closer to her, before holding onto your thighs to keep you spread apart.

"mm, you taste so splendid on my tongue, beloved.."

she moans, before finally indulging both you and her with the pleasure of her tongue roaming, exploring and pleasing your pussy. you started to squirm with the increasing intensity of her licks, and soon she was eating you out like a starved madman. thank god for strong hands, as you could barely keep yourself still, if it weren't for her holding you down you would have kept lifting yourself off the bed.

"a-arlecchino- arle-!"

you cried out her name, as her tounge darted inside you. you were close. so close. arlecchino however, was currently drunk on your moans and the taste of your slick, too busy savoring the raw taste of you, her lover. she hadn't noticed the way your cries were getting louder, or how tighter your grip on her head was becoming-- so she was surprised when you suddenly closed your thighs around her head, a bit of your fluids landing on her lips and tongue, accompanied with a loud cry of her name. she spread your legs apart once more and kept it open through the whole duration of your orgasm, wanting to see how your pussy throbbed and dripped, wanting to admire how pretty you were when you came undone because of her actions.

after you've settled down, she immediately joins you for a cuddle, she was not finished for the night- no, but she'd grant you a short moment of respite. she lays her head on your chest, closing her eyes as she listens to your heartbeat. "my love, i am still surprised how you've managed to notice my way of showing gratitude when i haven't realized it myself.", she mentions. you smiled at that, and looked at her. "to be known is to be loved. i love you, peruere."

she opens her mouth to speak, wanting to further inquire what you meant by that, but closes her mouth as she realizes what you meant once you call her peruere, the name that she hid away as it represents her past, her most fragile self, that only you've come to know instead of arlecchino, the name that spreads far and wide, which strikes fear and conquers respect from the hearts of many.

she nods in agreement, wrapping her arm around you tighter. her heart swelling from the feeling of loving and being loved, of knowing and being known. to be recognized. to be appreciated.

"i agree, my beloved. i am thankful that you've come to know me as who i really am, and stayed to love me despite what i've come to be. i love you too."

#arlecchino x reader smut #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin impact #arlecchino smut #lilac writes💜 #🔥 anon #lilac asks💜

[dootdootwriting]

♡ SLEEPING with the HSR men ♡

featuring: dan heng; welt; sampo; gepard; jing yuan tw: some light cursing from me, sampo's is a bit suggestive type: fluff, a bit silly pronouns used: none a/n: recreating the genshin version of this post which went viral to announce that i'm now writing & accepting requests for HSR.... and not b*ha that was a moment of weakness sorry everyone LOL

utc for length!

DAN HENG

naps all the goddamn time

the astral express will be cruising along and he'll let out this giant yawn and march gives you the side-eye and you know. your boyfriend is about to gently grab your hand and sleepily lead you into his... room (?) for a power nap

these can last anywhere from fifteen minutes, where dan will just barely wrap his arms around you and close his eyes for a bit, to three hours, where his head will hit his unfortunately thin pillow, and he won't even have time to give you a kiss before he's down for the count

he's an incredibly heavy sleeper, which works to his benefit and his detriment

he gets nightmares relatively frequently. while they don't happen every time he gets the chance to rest, it's around a third of the time, and sometimes he'll even wake up in a cold sweat and flail around to make sure you're still with him

even if you don't wake easily, seeing your sleeping form nearby calms him down. he knows he's safe.

actually, just having you sleep next to him makes it less likely for the nightmares to appear, and eventually, he makes such a habit of getting you to come with him every time he goes to bed that he can't actually sleep without some part of his body touching you

if you're on a particular stop or for some reason you have to sleep away from him, dan heng gets little to no sleep. he clutches his pillow as a (not very effective) surrogate, and wakes up with a sore neck and less braincells than usual

he needs his beauty sleep.

if dan is asleep next to you, and you wake up before him while he's holding you, don't bother trying to get up. he won't stop you from leaving, but he'll do something even worse: he'll lightly grab your arm as you get up and look at you through one bleary eye with the haziest expression on his face, and he'll ask you to stay, please?

alright fine. after you use the bathroom. needy ass (affectionate)

WELT YANG

"i don't need sleep, i have coffee"

get into bed old man or i swear to god

welt tries to have a sleep schedule, honestly. he's just not very good at it

he's a chronic caffeine drinker, and while he knows it's not good for him, he's also a slight workaholic and when he gets into the groove of working on something, he needs to stay awake to see it through. unfortunately, this means he's often up until the early hours of the morning, and you're fast asleep in bed before he even realizes what time it is.

he makes it up to you. whenever this happens and he finds you conked out how you were waiting for him, he picks you up and puts you in a more comfortable position, and tucks you into the covers next to him once he joins you

he needs to realize that taking a nap with the love of his life is just as refreshing, if not more, than a mug with four shots of espresso is

(you have seen him go to a coffee shop and order a "quad espresso" with the most tired, deadpan expression and have the baristas look at him in awe and fear)

the type to tuck the both of you in and forget that he has his glasses on. luckily at this point pompom is an experienced glasses mender.

he has lost at least six pairs to this plight.

welt is an average sleeper, and he doesn't move around much, so despite his aversiveness to actually getting into bed, he is a good sleeping partner.

GEPARD LANDAU

gepard enjoys sleeping with you so much that bedtime is his favorite part of the day

well, for multiple reasons, actually. he really likes the intimacy that goes along with washing up together and getting ready for bed

he's one to lie awake with you for a few minutes and read or scroll through your phones or just talk to each other before you go to bed. it's his favorite time to unwind and destress from the duties of being captain.

he tries so hard to let you fall asleep first, but damn if he isn't exhausted. he usually ends up falling asleep before you.

gepard's sleep schedule is very strict and regular. he goes to bed probably between ten and eleven at night and has to wake up for work around five am (rest in peace)

this gives him anywhere between six and seven hours of sleep every night, which is just enough to get him through the day and back to you in the evening.

he's not exactly a light sleeper? he wakes pretty easily but it takes a few buzzes of his alarm before he realizes that he's supposed to be waking up then.

gepard wants so badly to be the partner who stays in bed "five more minutes" with you, or calls in sick from work just to stay in bed for the day. unfortunately, with his position, it just isn't possible, which breaks his heart every morning.

to make up for that, he leaves a note at his spot on the bed -- it's anything from "extra hard day today most likely. i'll miss you <3" to a silly, horrible doodle of him giving you a kiss

and then he's off to smack monsters over the head with his sister's guitar case

SAMPO KOSKI

"sampo koski always goes to bed on time!"

lies. or, well, he tries? i guess?

he means to, anyway... there's just always something to distract him, whether it be you, or social media, or some brand new business opportunity pinging him

being a traveler, the two of you often sleep in hotels or motels across belobog. it's not bad! sampo always reserves rooms in the nicest area nearby -- he likes to treat you to the nicest sheets and the best room service

i mean, you can't really have any fun if you're not comfortable~

smack him with a pillow please. or a brick!

doesn't have the tiniest bit of a bedtime routine. he decides he's tired, he flops on top of you, and he's out

sleeps like the dead. there is no waking sampo koski until it is time for him to wake up

the morning is when you remind him he has to shower and brush his teeth, to which he reluctantly agrees and smiles at you bashfully

which, actually, is kind of cute

this isn't to say he doesn't care about his appearance -- he DEFINITELY DOES. he just oftentimes forgets to wash up before he fals asleep.

he's another one who has to be touching you at all times while he rests. whether it be a hand, a foot, his head on your chest, your head on his chest... it doesn't matter. he likes the security he feels when he knows you're there with him.

JING YUAN

jing yuan always goes to sleep on time!

truth. he actually gets agitated when his sleep schedule is thrown off.

he has it written down in his head; his bodily clock is incredibly regimented. his sleeping times, eating times, and self-hygiene times all have to be the same every day, or his whole day feels off

he doesn't need an alarm clock. he wakes up at the same time every day, give or take a half hour. if he wakes up any earlier or later than his usual waking up zone, he goes into a sour mood as if he just knows the rest of the day will be bad.

he's another heavy sleeper. jing yuan prefers to sleep on his back and have you sleep on his chest. or on some occasions, he'll spoon you.

the lion sleeps at the foot of the bed

another part of his nightly routine is goodnight kisses and bedtime meat. he grabs a little chunk of chicken or beef for the kitty and gives each of you a kiss before he turns out the light and goes to sleep

if you prefer to stay up for a while doing your own things, he has no qualms with that, as long as it doesn't disturb his rest. things like having your phone out or a reading lamp on don't bother him -- he can go to sleep regardless of the lighting conditions.

i'm just imagining how fucked up he gets from jet lag. poor guy. aeons forbid he ever travel to a different planet with a separate passage of time

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #welt #welt yang #welt x reader #welt yang x reader #gepard #gepard landau #gepard x reader #sampo #sampo koski #sampo x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hcs #dan heng hcs #welt hcs #gepard hcs #sampo hcs #jing yuan hcs #sfw #gn!reader #no pronouns

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes. #* #this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3