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90s/early 2000s gyaru

angel baby 𓆩♡𓆪

°❀⋆.♥︎࿔*:･ allergy ୨ৎ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 🎱˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

🔞 Having thoughts about Minhyeok thanks to chapter 5........

[NSFW, minors DNI; fem reader, rough sex, mentions of oral (f and m receiving), fingering, dacryphilia, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms]

Pathetic Minhyeok, always mocked by the devils because he's the only one that hasn't gotten a taste of you yet. Even when he's providing you with human energy, it's still disconnected, carried by another vessel rather than how he'd prefer to give it, how he aches to fill you with it.

Pathetic Minhyeok who, when he finally has you in his bed underneath him, no devil to come between you and no attacking angels, can't wait to give you his energy the way he wanted to all along, and he's prepared to spend all night making up for it.

Pathetic Minhyeok who relishes in the surprise on your face when he first strips in front of you, proud of his physique for once when your eyes keep traveling between his chest and his aching dick, already leaking and colored an angry red at the tip. He doesn't miss the way you squirm and squeeze your thighs together, the way your pupils dilate and you're practically ready to drool.

Pathetic Minhyeok who takes his time memorizing the sight of your bare body, to fuel his future fantasies but also already planning in his head how he's going to make you melt for him, how he'll make you scream.

Pathetic Minhyeok who knows exactly what you want in bed, what you want to explore, thanks to all the porn you've watched on his computer. He's spent more hours than he can remember studying every detail, having it down to a science on what to do and how to do it.

Pathetic Minhyeok who's still nervous at first initiating this with you, crossing this boundary from childhood best friend to lover after pining for years. But the way you respond to his touches encourages him, makes his heart pump faster and his body light on fire.

Pathetic Minhyeok who doesn't miss the chance to explore your whole body, no crevice or curve left untouched by his fingers or his lips. He makes sure to spend his time truly finding and investigating every sensitive spot on your body, memorizing the way you twitch with a pinch to your nipples, or your pussy slicks up as he nibbles on your inner thighs.

Pathetic Minhyeok who feels like he's ready to cum when you first moan his name, as his face is buried between your thighs, lapping and sucking at your sensitive clit while he curls his fingers inside you. It's a struggle to stop humping the bed, his dick begging to be inside you already, but he refuses to do so until you've cum for him first.

Pathetic Minhyeok who feels a burst of confidence and pride when he feels your pussy squeeze around his fingers just barely five minutes in, who's captivated by how sensitive you are and the way you moan. Even if the devils had you first, he's the one that knows you best, knows exactly what you want.

Pathetic Minhyeok who struggles not to cum down your throat when you return the favor, your tongue teasing around his foreskin and tears in your eyes when you take him just a little too deep. Praises are tumbling from his lips as he fucks into your mouth, shivering when he feels the back of your throat and sees the tears sliding down your cheeks, fighting the urge to make you cry more.

Pathetic Minhyeok who's itching to mount you like a beast in rut, flipping you over onto your stomach as he straddles your hips, pulling your hips up to rut his length against you as he shoves your head into the pillows. He can hear a faint protest at his choice of position, saying you want to see his face, but not yet, he tells you. He wants to see you from every angle first.

Pathetic Minhyeok who wants to be slow and gentle during his first time with you, but the second he's inside your hot cunt, it's over for him. He starts slow to test the waters, but once he feels how well you fit him, like your cunt was made and waiting for him, he wastes no time in increasing the pace, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping skin.

Pathetic Minhyeok who's obsessed with the way your ass jiggles as he thrusts into you, who thinks your moans are like music to his ears. His hand comes down to slap a cheek almost automatically, drawing the most gorgeous cry from your lips. He loves the way your cunt squeezes him in response, and decides to give a few more slaps.

Pathetic Minhyeok fighting the urge to cum when he feels you suddenly squeeze tight around him, your orgasm blindsiding you as you shake beneath him, your body desperately trying to milk him in turn. He almost laments the fact your moans were muffled by the pillows, and that he can't see your face in its ecstasy, but knows a way to fix that.

Pathetic Minhyeok who stops and pulls out for a moment, relishing the needy cry of protest from you, before he flips you onto your back and wastes no time sliding back into your sensitive cunt. He makes sure to angle your hips up into his lap, getting him as deep as possible, almost painfully so, and this time he doesn't miss your reactions as he fucks you into his mattress.

Pathetic Minhyeok who knows you're overstimulated, that your sore pussy needs a break, but assures you he's almost there (at least for this round). It's hypnotizing the way your eyes roll back as his thumb finds your clit, toying with the nub as he pounds into you, balls aching to release. He's tired of only ever giving you himself through those little vials, but now, he can pump you full himself. Just the image of his cum leaking from your hole is enough to make him burst, slamming his hips a few times before seating himself deep inside you, leaving his seed no room to escape, and the feel of his hot cum sends you into another orgasm of your own.

Pathetic Minhyeok who stays deep inside you, rocking his hips as he softens inside, his thumb still playing with your clit as you try to squirm away. He can't miss the hearts in your eyes or the way your legs have wrapped around his hips, keeping him pressed against you. Where he may have had doubts before, he knows now that no matter how far away you go, you're sure to always remember his touch.

⟁ TOUCH. ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — yearning for sensations long forgotten behind cool steel and blue blood.

⠀ OR

⠀ — you two can get along every once in a while.

⚠︎ mechanic!reader, rev comfort, boothill is a bit of a yearner, can you guys just fucking kiss already. gn reader wc 1.5k.

“you’re less obnoxious than usual,”

your voice snaps boothill out of his daze, eyes blinking quickly as he re-registers your hands in his torso messing with a few wires.

“you sick or something?”

the cyborg keeps his gaze down, watching the careful and precise movements of your hands, actions long practiced and refined. 

it's a little surprising when a flirt or some quick quip doesn't follow your comment— only a small huff of air through his nose as boothill leans further back onto his palms.

“nah. i'm fit as a fiddle.”

you spare a glance up, right eyebrow raising just a tad. you don’t believe him, and boothill’s too clocked out to notice your distrust.

though you don’t comment– not until the cavity in his stomach is closed up and all his pieces are back in place.

“that should be better,” you wipe the oil off your hands with an old rag hung from one of your belt loops. “how's that scratch healing up?”

boothill again is pulled from his thoughts by your voice, cybernetic hand subconsciously moving to the mostly scabbed and healed over cut on his jaw— the one you patched and gave him an earful for getting in the first place.

“‘s fine,” he runs his fingers over it as if he could feel the roughened skin. they linger over it just a little too long. “barely there anymore. we all done here?”

it's another comment that leaves you with a weird feeling in your gut— he always hung around, dragged out his repairs longer than they needed to take just to spend more time with you. to mess with you, ruffle your feathers while you pretend you don’t know exactly what he’s doing. it's almost disappointing when he expresses his eagerness to leave. not to mention the lack of his usual vibrato or high energy is a tad unsettling.

he tries to sit up from your work bench, but your palm against his chest pushes him carefully back down and keeps him seated. unbeknownst to you, boothill actively chokes down the simultaneous urges to swat your hand away and clutch onto it. did you know how insane your touch that he couldn’t even feel was driving him? did you know that he’d had his teeth grit since stepping one boot into your shop— the shop that he was only able to enter after giving himself a firm slap to his own forehead?

“what's with you?”

you folded your arms over your chest, eyes focussed calculatingly on the cowboy sitting in front of you. though the brim of his hat covers a good portion of his face, and his head doesn’t seem too keen on lifting. 

“what’s that s’posed t’mean?'' boothill doesn’t bother looking up, as expected.

“you look like a kicked dog.” 

boothill scoffs. “ain’t no sugar coatin’ it with you, is there?” 

“cmon,” you sigh, unfolding your arms to place them down on your table, caging either side of the cyborg’s hips. you give a slight lean forward as you put your weight down on them, and once more boothill’s caught between pushing you away or grabbing your shirt and pulling you closer. 

“talk to me, it’s weird seeing you all quiet.”

“ain’t you the one always tellin’ me to shut up?”

“boothill.”

he tilted his head back with a quiet groan, steel thumb rubbing at one of his temples. it's embarrassing, really, what he’s so hung up about. 

his thoughts drift to your hands on either side of him, that although calloused and stained with oil you’ll never be able to quite fully get out from under your fingernails, are still soft. human. not exactly delicate but not…clunky. or heavy.

he’s never really been one for vulnerability. where would he even begin? he’d hardened his interior to match the abrupt loss of his fleshy exterior. he didn’t feel he had a choice to do otherwise. now he’s left with the hyper awareness of just how bulky and inelegant he is— it’s not who he was before, not what he had. it never will be. 

“…just missin’ the way i used to be, i s’pose. i dunno.”

his eyes still dodge yours, pulling the brim of his hat down to block out your face from his peripherals. 

“just…forgettin’ things. how things feel against my fingers ‘n whatnot.” his words are half murmured, hesitant behind his lips.

if boothill had a stomach, it would have tightened and churned at your lack of a response. now he just feels silly, like you’re about to laugh in his face for the little bit of himself he’d just bared to you.

“not that i’m moppin’ about it or nothin’,” he quickly tries to save with a clear of his throat. “i mean, this ol’ hunk’a metal come in handy now and again, don’t it?” boothill straightens up a little bit, voice evening out. 

he’s still waiting for you to say something. literally anything— to give a half assed acknowledgement and let him go or call him an idiot. he eagerly awaits for you to just get either over with.

but rather than option a, or b, or even c to z, what he receives is your hand on his cheek, guiding his head to look back forward at you. 

…huh?

he feels frozen. your hand is so warm, it’s making his head feel fuzzy. it’s different than the occasional touch to his face from you, one to tilt his head up so you can see his neck or a lift of his eyelid to check on his eye.

it stays in place, long enough to make the area of his face you’re touching begin to warm as well. his eyes are locked with yours now, slightly wide and filled with uncertainty. he silently prays his cheeks aren’t blue.

“you can still feel here, right?” your question is so…innocent. it’s as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. your thumb slowly smoothing over his cheekbone is enough to make him feel utterly weak.

“…yeah. yeah, i can.”

he’s daring enough to put his hand overtop yours, keeping it in place. you smile slightly at that— not a teasing grin like usual, but a genuine one.

“you know,” your other hand brushes his bangs out of his eyes. boothill’s never been touched like this before, like he’s fragile.

“you don’t have to hide stuff from me.” right now, your voice is the most comforting thing he’s ever heard. he's blanking– you’re the only thing filling his senses. the smell of oil mixed with your body wash, the way you look at him as you speak, every part of it is so…grounding. it’s almost foreign, a sensation long forgotten behind layers of metal and code.

“i ain’t hiding things from ya, sugar plum.”

“quit it with that, okay?” 

your brows furrow lightly as you lean dangerously close. boothill can feel your slow, calm breaths fanning his upper lip. he resists the urge to gulp.

“i know you. probably more than you think.” you tilt the brim of his hat up gently, keeping it out of the way. it’s true, no one’s ever seen him in the ways that you have. comfortable, a little smitten, on and off malfunctioning.

“i don’t like seeing you upset,” boothill’s circuits stutter once your forehead rested against his. “so just talk to me next time.”

it’s not a request, but it’s not a demand either. perhaps “invitation” is a more fitting term.

“can we…” boothill clears his throat softly again, fingers lightly tightening around your hand. “do you reckon we can stay like this for a lil’ while then?” 

you nod.

“okay.”

you pull him a little closer, enough to place your cheek against his and give it a gentle nuzzle.

you’re warm. you’re soft. you smell good, feel good. he doesn’t want to let go.

one of boothill's arms snakes carefully around your waist, and slowly your chest is pulled flush against his while you’re stood between his legs. his face finds itself comfortably hidden in the crook of your neck, all while your thumb gently tracing the shell of his ear is enough to have him purring like a cat.

“you feel nice,” boothill says quietly, voice a bit rough. the rasp is endearing as always. “real nice, sugar.”

neither of you are sure how long you stay there, nor does boothill know when his hand began clutching your shirt as if he was afraid you would pull away. but the gentle whirl and hum of his internals are oddly soothing– like a built in white noise machine that puts your mind at ease.

boothill could have sat there forever, really. nudging his nose against the smooth skin of your neck and gripping tightly at what little physical feeling he had left.

you silently ponder kissing his temple, boothill silently ponders kissing your cheek. neither of you act.

“thank ya.” boothill's voice is nothing above a whisper. “been a while since…y’know.” 

you nod slowly, fingers idly twirling a piece of hair that hangs over his ear.

“you’re sweet when you wanna be.” you can’t help but tease him just a little.

“cmon now, i’m always sweet for you, ain’t i?” and he can’t help but throw a flirt back.

⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

Give him a break poor thing needs training wheels to ride a bike

...The audacity of this man to decline me trying to switch with him, ONLY TO DROP THE PLUSHIE 💀💀 RAFAYEL--

Yes. MORE pre-release Boothill because this man can't let go of me. Some of those hc might be late to the party but I was too slow forgive me 🙏

Boothill loves to kabedon you, especially if someone's trying to hit on you, to get your attention back. YOU, out of all people, they had to choose you - while he was right there. He wastes no time before pins you against the wall, the sound of crushing concrete catching you off guard when his arm hit the building, and finally turning your face at Boothill, whose own face was mere inches away.

If he feels a bit more unhinged that day, he kabedons you with his leg. Also, he might attempt to kick the person next to you in the process. He does like to do it when you aren't expecting him, so it gives Boothill yet another chance to steal a kiss from you.

Boothill finds himself biting his lower lip and not so gracefully staring at you when you wear a sundress, skirt, or - aeons forbid - a mini skirt. He swears something flips in his head like a switch, and suddenly he can't get his arms off of you.

"Someone's lookin' real pretty today, hmm?" The cyborg's hands massage your hips as he tilts his head to the side slightly, "or is it on purpose, to me all hot n'bothered, sweetheart?"

Now, you might find yourself in a situation, where Boothill wants to kiss you in public, but you're too shy - fear not! The cyborg cowboy will cover your kiss with his hat - he takes his hat off as he leans down to finally feel the supple skin of your lips on his, the other hand cupping your cheek; as the people pass by, only some bother to notice anything happening, sparing you a single glance.

Well it's all good until you remember there might be people on the other side, and Boothill has only one hat...

Black gyaru

Inspired by the last pop up merch XD

Process under the cut ✂️

Cowboy yeehaw

𝐎𝐇 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄!

୨♡୧ pairings :: roommate!welt x reader ; roommate!blade x reader ; roommate!gepard x reader

୨♡୧ contains :: modern!au, nothing crazy maybe some suggestive stuff and talking about lack of shirts, alcohol consumption but like rlly mild like I'm talking a few glasses of wine

୨♡୧ gia's notes :: screaming sobbing crying i got welt AND sampo on the same 10 pull :> anyways first exam in five days lets fucking gooooo. something short and sweet in the meanwhile

୨♡୧ request :: @sentieence 𖦹 (hope that this is enough blade content for you, i threw in a couple extra hee hee har)

𓆩♡𓆪 WELT

for an animator who mostly works from home, your roommate is surprisingly elusive

of course, you know what he looks like because you met him when you first moved in

he's smart, poised, handsome, and kind - as made apparent by his insistence on helping you move all of your boxes of belongings into the place

he was always polite, never overstepped boundaries, bid you a good morning or night whenever your paths crossed

and, well, that was about it

you knew that welt worked in his room, but if it weren't for his occasional appearances, it was almost like you were living entirely on your own

which wasn't exactly awful, per se, but you did want to get to know your roommate better

however, life's plans always manage to throw a wrench into the mix

your regular routine of work and returning home was interrupted with the unforeseen circumstance of having to stay later to finish a project in time- leaving you exhausted before you even left the building and began your journey back home

your stomach began growling as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, and you found yourself wondering what takeout you would rely on this evening to carry you through to the next day

those thoughts were interrupted by the enticing aroma of food cooking entering your nostrils as soon as you swung your front door open

you paused in confusion, taking a second to shed your shoes and coat before wandering into your kitchen, met with the surprising sight of your roommate with his back to you, humming quietly as he cooked himself a meal

you were almost hesitant to interrupt him, yet your stomach had other plans as it growled embarrassingly loud, causing welt to glance behind him and shoot you a quick smile before turning his attention back to the stove

"come sit, i'm making enough for two"

you grinned at his words, setting the table before settling down and watching welt cook with a practised grace

even in his own home, he dressed so formally, with his crisp button-down's sleeves rolled up to his reveal his forearms, the tendons rippling in such a way as he stirred the contents of the pan that you wondered just how an animator could have that physique-

you coughed to rid yourself of those thoughts, instead focusing on your drink as welt plated up the steaming food, placing one in front of you before taking a seat across from you

it all felt very intimate, and you tried not to get flustered as you made eye contact with your roommate from across the table

despite the easy expression he wore, his eyes met your gaze with an intensity that demanded you to match it, making you almost shrink back into your chair as welt nonchalantly took a bite, humming to himself in satisfaction

you followed his lead, feeling the tension in your shoulders as you sat back in your chair and appreciated welt's cooking

"you should cook more often" you sighed

welt let out a chuckle

"is that so?"

you hummed in affirmation, eagerly finishing your plate, the hot meal leaving you feeling fully satiated

you accidentally made eye contact with welt as you took your last bite, a certain look of endearment adorned by him that had you stuttering, teeth scraping unpleasantly around your fork

"i'll cook as much as you want to as long as you join me for the meal"

you almost choked on your food, feeling very self conscious all over again as welt's gaze remained fixed on you, chin propped up by his arm as that same accursed look on his face appraised you

"that would be nice"

𓆩♡𓆪 BLADE

on all counts, your roommate was an asshole

he was irritable, didn't clean up after himself unless you nagged him, and had woken you from your sleep more times than you can count because of whatever stupid shit he's up to that requires him to thump his way around the flat

it was infuriating, but hey, rent was cheap and the place you're in isn't half bad

all you have to do now is endure the circumstances for the remainder of your lease

you did your best to avoid the aptly named blade and his sharp mouth

mornings were particularly risky, with his half-asleep state invoking even more snide comments than usual as he makes himself a cup of coffee, black with no sugar

and then he proceeds to leave the unwashed mug in the sink

it pisses you off when you come back home at the end of your day and see it later alongside a stack of other dishes, dark ring of residual coffee staining the perfectly good piece of ceramic, and there's some string inside you that snaps and has you huffing and puffing your way over to your flatmate's room and knocking on it persistently

once, twice, three times

you hear an exaggerated sigh before the sound of his muffled footsteps, and then the door is being swung open and you're ready to chew him out for what feels like the millionth time

and then your eyes register the fact that youre stood face to face with his bare chest and the words die on your lips

the baggy clothes he wore really didn't serve him justice, and it's an active effort to peel your eyes away from his toned chest to meet his eyes, only to see a flash of amusement as he watches you make a fool of yourself

"something wrong?"

the bastard's enjoying this

"wash your dishes" you squeak out, before hightailing it back to your own room and trying to forget the image of your hot asshole roommate without a shirt on that was now branded onto the back of your eyelids

and it seemed that blade hadn't forgotten your encounter either

the next morning you were pleasantly surprised to see the dishes were done and set to dry, and you even picked out the same mug blade had used yesterday for your own coffee

the sound of the kettle must have masked his footsteps, because you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard blade grunt out a morning before reaching for the just-boiled water and the mug you placed on the counter

you turn around to tell him to get his own, though you're surprised to be greeted with the wide expanse of his bare back, all muscle that coils and stretches as he added milk and sugar to the drink and stirred it with a spoon and turning to face you yet again, smirk adorning his face as he took a long sip from your own cup

you bite the inside of your cheek, focusing your gaze onto his smug face as he leaned back against the counter, taking an exaggerated stretch back that let his muscles flex

"i thought you didn't like milk and sugar"

"i don't, but you do"

blade slid the mug across the counter back towards you, making his way out of the kitchen leisurely as if he hadn't just inadvertedly confessed that he memorised how you make your coffee

you take a sip and your suspicions are confirmed as it tastes the exact same as you make it, and you smile down at your drink despite yourself

having blade as a roommate might just work out after all

𓆩♡𓆪 GEPARD

gepard my beloved

honestly good luck living with this man and not having a massive crush on him

you feel guilty, but the thought of just how good of a boyfriend gepard would be has crossed your mind multiple times

the domestic setting of already living together doesn't exactly help these thoughts, either

over the late nights you've spent staying up talking, and the manoeuvring around each other in your cramped cosy apartment that has led to more brushes and lingering touches than you could count, this great image of intimacy has been constructed over the past months

the fact that he's single and painfully attractive is something that you're acutely aware of as well

even when alone, your mind often wandered back to that glaring fact, and on the rare occasion you let yourself indulge in the what ifs and maybes surrounding gepard

and with a couple glasses of wine in you right now, those thoughts were running rampant

it was a friday night and you were finally home from work, dressed in your comfiest clothes and just unwinding in the living room watching a trashy romcom with some takeout

and speak of the devil, you heard the familiar sound of your door being unlocked as gepard let himself in with a mumbled greeting, the door soon slamming shut behind him

you didn't turn your head, instead listening to him curse as he tripped over something in the hall, and his muted footsteps as he made his way to where you were sat

"long day, huh?" you teased, turning your head just in time to watch him loosen his tie with one hand, the pale column of his throat suddenly leaving your throat dry and reaching for your glass again

"something like that"

gepard shuffled over, intercepting it before you could place it back down on the table and took a sip from the same spot you did, making you feel flushed for reasons other than the alcohol working its way through your system

you placed your feet on the floor, about to shuffle up on the couch in anticipation of him taking a seat next to you, though the man surprised you as he crouched down, opting to sit in between your legs, his broad shoulders nestling comfortably against your knees

well, that was new

you zeroed in on his hair, reaching out your hand before thinking and combing through his tousled locks

you didn't expect the content sigh he let out at your simple action, watching the way his shoulders softened and he leaned back into you, his head now resting comfortably against your thigh

the ends of his hair tickled your bare skin, and you tried not to squirm at the feeling of his eyelashes fluttering closed as he hummed gently at your ministrations, basking in your presence

the thought of gepard having the exact mannerisms of a cat crossed your mind, and the giggle that escaped your lips was not lost on him, as he craned his head back to look you at you, brows furrowed at your mirth

"what?"

"nothing," you hummed, continuing to card your fingers through his silky hair, absentmindedly twisting a lock of it around your finger, watching the man sigh and sink back against you from his place on the floor

the weight of him resting against your legs just felt so right, and you felt yourself begin to relax into the position as well, your attention turning back to the movie as you continued your tipsy affection on your roommate

that seemed to be a sobering thought as you remembered that fact, and you were half tempted to pull away if it weren't for gepard looping his hands around your thighs, thumbs tracing absentminded patterns of his own into your skin, eyes fixed straight ahead

well, if he's not complaining, you didn't exactly see a reason why you should be either

୨♡୧ honkai star rail masterlist

This was a whole Night of Drawing and I´m totally finished now, cause I really wanted to finish them till Valentines Day !

I wish you all a Happy Valentines Day !!!

he's here....

♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

"KON"

♡ ⊹ ࣪ Gaijin Gyaru Riko ♡ ⊹ ࣪

Spotted today [2014.06.05] an old school ‪#‎gyaru‬ (all dress up with Alba Rosa) in ‪#‎Harajuku‬, ‪#‎Tokyo‬

Amazing to see that old style is still alive!