hihiii! Could I please request a chuuya x hyperfeminine reader? not necessarily loves just pink, she just loves getting dolled up, wearing pretty dresses, long hair, puts in a lot of effort, etc, it's okay if not, have a great day <3
‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘ his pretty doll ⊹— chuuya x fem!reader
tags: sfw, headcanons & a drabble, suggestive at the ends
a/n: i loved writing this request bc it's so me, enjoy! ♡𐙚ּ ֶָ֢.
chuuya notices the effort fully, down to the tiniest details ever. the kind of details where you expect people to notice and sometimes.. they don't—he pays attention to those. not just “you look nice”. but what you chose—the jewelry you paired with your dress, how your hair is styled that day, what color palette you chose and how it compliments your features. “new earrings?” he’ll ask casually as he helps you put them on—you hadn't told him yet, you didn't need to.
you leave traces of yourself on him without even trying. lipstick marks on the edge of his glass, faint smudges on his collar where you leaned too close, your perfume on his coat following him around throughout his day, his scent mixing with your softer one—your pretty dresses (or lingerie) lingering around his house—just unforgettable.
he absolutely helps you get ready sometimes. he's not clumsy either—he’s precise and does actually help. he fixes your dresses, fastens delicate clasps, adjusts a necklace so it sits right, fingers warm against the back of your neck; he'll brush out your hair gently, help you style it, choose your accessories for you—and there’s something intimate about how close he has to be to do it. as he helps, his eyes roam all over you until you blush a bit, his gaze laced with a kind of gentleness you don't usually see from someone like him.
he loves when you ask for his opinion—“this one or this one?”—he’ll pause, actually look, consider, won't dismiss it with a "whatever you want", like it doesn’t matter. “that one.”
compliments are non negotiable. you will not leave not the house, let alone your room without getting loved and doted on by him. he's your biggest glazer. sorry . "you look absolutely beautiful doll", he'll say—"pretty girl.. my pretty girl," while pressing a kiss to your cheek or temple—he calls you doll a lot, because you look like, and truly are one.
your lip gloss always transfers when you kiss. it’s inevitable—soft kisses that linger just a little too long, a little too slow—and when you pull away, there’s that shine left on his lips that makes him even more kissable. he doesn’t wipe it off. if anything, he licks his lips absentmindedly. it has grown on him—to the point where every time you put it on he wonders what flavor will your lips taste this time—"may i get another taste angel?"
he gets weirdly still when you get close to his face. like when you’re fixing his tie, or wiping something off his cheek—your breath right there, your hands gentle on him, you pretty face so close to his. he doesn’t interrupt, just watches you, eyes half-lidded, letting it happen. you soften him in a way nobody else can, like he’s still chuuya—sharp, reactive, intense—but with you, there’s this slow drag to his movements, as if everything around him has just softened.
you kiss his cigarette filters. when he's asleep or busy or has a pack laying around untouched—you'll put on a shade you feel like wearing that day, and take them one by one and kiss the cigarette mouthpieces, leaving pretty kiss prints like a signature—sometimes briefly putting them between your lips to mark all around it. then you'll just put them back and go on with your day for him to find out whenever. the first time, he was alone when he noticed. he paused, his thumb brushed over the mark, just staring for a second longer than he should've before he smirked and took a drag, lips landing right where yours were previously.
he’s very gentle with you physically, affectionate in quiet ways. a hand at your lower back guiding you through a room, fingers brushing yours when you’re side by side, letting you lean into him, one arm wrapping around you, pulling you in just a little closer than necessary. your affection is slow, arms wrapping around him from behind, cheek resting against his shoulder, soft presses of your lips against his jaw, his temple—the kind of closeness that lingers with him for a long time.
you soften him without even trying—not any less sharp, not weak—but there's this slow drag to his movements when he's with you, losing that constant edge and tension. his voice drops, and he's more.. at ease, like you're the calm to his storms
he never treats your femininity like it makes you fragile. that’s a big thing with him. you can be soft, delicate, put-together—and he still knows you’re capable. there’s zero condescension in the way he handles you. only respect.
there’s this quiet contrast between you, that never feels like a clash—his sharpness, your softness—his intensity, your gentleness—and instead of canceling each other out, it just… fits.
bonus: if you doll up for him? (dolly lingerie, pretty little dresses in styles only he can see, or just a pretty pink bow around your throat) oh he's smitten. he'll eat you up with just his eyes before he gets to even touch you. "just sitting there like a gift sent from heaven aren't you?.. waiting for me to unwrap you sweetheart?" —his hands are hungry. not rough, or careless—just greedy. he'll press slow kisses to your skin—over your jaw, you ear, your neck—chuckling when a particular one tickles you and makes you giggle—his palms spread over your waist, hips, thighs, everywhere—and yes, he does want to absolutely devour you right then and there, but. your laugh makes him smile, soft in his neediness. he savours how your soft laughs fade into even softer sighs under his touch.
the soft glow of the vanity lights bathed the bedroom in a warm, golden hue, "baby is everything in place?" you muttered as you leaned closer to the mirror, your long hair cascaded down your back in loose waves, freshly curled and scented with that sweet perfume chuuya loved. the dress you’d chosen clung to your figure just right—soft chiffon in a delicate blush shade, with a sweetheart neckline that highlighted your shiny collarbones, and a hem that fluttered around your thighs. you smoothed it down with manicured hands, turning slightly to check the back.
you'd been getting ready to go out with him for a while now, and he'd been waiting patiently on your bed, watching you do your thing with a lazy smile which you couldn't see for the last twenty minutes like he couldn’t get enough. now though? he was up—crossing the room with his effortless stride until his gloved hands settled on your waist.
you caught his eyes in the mirror—sharp blue, half-lidded with that familiar hunger. “like it?” you asked, tilting your head so your hair brushed his shoulder.
“like it?” he let out a short laugh that almost sounded like a scoff, stepping flush against your back. one hand slid up your side, tracing the curve of your hip through the thin fabric. “you’re killin’ me here, y'know? look at you… all dolled up like a goddamn dream.” he pressed a slow kiss just below your ear, then another. “y'smell so sweet. feel even better.”
you leaned back into him, feeling the solid warmth of his chest, a sudden giggle slipping despite yourself purely because of the shiver that ran through you. “we’re supposed to be leaving soon,” you reminded him, though your voice had already gone softer, breathier.
“yeah?” chuuya’s other hand came up, gathering a lock of your hair and brushing it over your shoulder. his lips found the exposed skin there, pressing a lingering kiss that turned into a soft nip. he turned you in his arms so you faced him, tilting your chin up. your hands came up to adjust his tie, even though it was already perfect, just an excuse to touch him.
his gaze dropped to your lips, then lower, drinking in the way the dress hugged you. “they can wait. let me look at my girl a little longer.”
he kissed you then—slow at first, careful not to smudge your lipstick too badly, but deepening it quickly as you melted into him. his hands roamed, one slipping down to squeeze your thigh, pulling you closer until there was nothing between you but silk and heat.
“keep this on tonight,” he murmured, voice lower now, rougher as he pulled back just enough to speak against your lips. “but when we get back… I’m taking my time peeling it off you.”
you smiled, cheeks warm, and brushed a gentle hand down his chest. “promise?”
chuuya’s grin was sharp and full of promise as he stole one last kiss. “always, doll. now finish getting pretty. the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.”
© mouthfroth — all rights reserved. Do not feed my work to ai. do not translate or repost my work on any platforms without permission or proper credit.
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