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#so much to show and yet i feel like i have nothing to show *for it*
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Yandere Short Stories:
Knight in Shining Armor
Yandere Monster Knight x Princess Reader
TW: delusional Yandere, Yandere behavior, kidnapping (mentioned), etc.
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Ajax had always been princess (your name)’s confidant and source of solace… so why did he have her cornered on the bed of the inn? His large, muscular frame towered over her as his body trembled.
“I can’t do it… I can’t let you marry some other man.” Ajax whispered, his metal mask hiding his expression. There was no doubt in (your name)’s mind that he was shaken up about something. She had no clue why he’d be so upset about her getting married…
“Ajax, it was bound to happen eventually. It’s my duty as the kingdom’s princess-“ (your name) gasped when he closed the distance between them. Ajax’s large palms pulled her into a tight hug. The force of the hug caused them both to land on the small bed with a soft plop.
“Ajax-“ Ajax placed a finger on (your name)’s lips to pause her words.
“I won’t allow it… I won’t allow some other man to sully you.” Ajax’s deep voice made her body anxiously shake. “Not when I’ve wanted you for so many years…”
“Ajax-“ (your name)’s eyes widened when he finally removed the mask that’s concealed his face for over a decade. Ajax was half orc? (Your name) hadn’t a clue and she had been with him for so many years…
“I’m half monster, I thought you knew.” Ajax chuckled as his crimson eyes flitted over (Your name)’s frozen form. She was now a helpless lamb trapped in the maw of the wolf. “It’s why the other knights have been so cruel to me… why the maids avoid me like the plague and your father wanted to send me to war.”
(Your name)’s eyes can only take on his scarred and burned face in shock. Why was half the skin on his mouth missing and his tusks filed down? Who had hurt him so much that he didn’t confide in her, his best friend? What atrocities had he faced while she remained none the wiser?
(Your name) were shocked when he bent down to show you his teeth. His tusks were clumsily filed down to almost look like teeth but they were still rather sharp. “I did the tusk work, but they grow back rather quickly. The skin on my face is still healing from when there was an assassination attempt on you from your future husband’s concubines. Bastard was going to pour acid on your face.”
(Your name) reached up to trace the scars on his face while Ajax gave her a soft smile. “Ajax…”
“You’re the only one who’s never treated me like a monster… you’re so wonderful and kind.” Ajax moved his large, gloved hands to hold her hands. “That old king doesn’t deserve you. No one does!”
(Your name) blushed when Ajax brought her hands up to his lips to press tender kisses over each of her knuckles. Despite how badly Ajax wished to ravish her, he must keep his composure.
“You took this amount of damage for me?” (Your name)’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it made Ajax melt into a puddle.
“Of course I did. I will do anything for you.” Ajax moved himself to crouch on the corner of the bed, his head in a slight bow. Yet (your name) could feel the burning obsessed behind his crimson gaze. “I am in love with you. Madly, deeply, entirely devoted to you and only you.”
Ajax grasped (your name)’s bare foot and brought it up to his mouth to press tender kisses across the top of it. “I will love you until my skin rots off my body and I am nothing but bones. Yet even death could not separate me from you for I will be in every corner of your life like a permanent shadow of protection. I will protect you with my entire being and soul. I will haunt and dismember your enemies if you so much as give them a glance of distaste.”
(Your name) felt her blood run cold when Jax gave her a bright grin that reopened a few of the stitches across his cheeks. The blood dripped down his face and onto her foot, but he merely lapped it up with his longer tongue. “Now tell me… is what I feel not love? I may not be a handsome prince but I swear I’m your knight in shining armor.”
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okwonyo · 2 days
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homeworks, love confessions.
엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader six hundred tutor!reader au fluff potential future relationship + cw. not proof-read skinship profanity; god ( other )
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heeseung
would be so self-conscious; not only about the way he behaves, but also the way he talks. would make sure to not say anything that makes you uncomfortable and whenever he would say something that might have sounded weird, would apologize immediately.
would do everything to have the best grades he can, showing his results to you proudly and taking it as a chance to tell you that you are the best tutor ever. cheeks getting reddish and smile getting shy after you gently praise him.
jongseong
would be such a good listener; writing down all the tips that you tell him, nodding along with a soft smile while you talk and would compliment you by saying that you are a very good teacher— would promise you he’ll so his best on the next exam.
would bring you some snacks for the studying session; knowing somehow what your favorite snacks are. at some point, would even cook some cookies himself and would feel his heart racing when you tell him that they are very good.
jake
would fall, pathetically deeply, into the depths of love as soon as he gaze lands on your unreal visuals— you are beyond pretty and really smart, there is no way he would not be enamored by you. and would be really obvious about it too; giggling and shying away after you would tell him he did great.
would have that cute little habit where his mouth forms into a tiny pout when he doesn’t understand something or is focusing too much. habit which you would find really cute and would contemplate with your head in your hand.
sunghoon
would be an extremely concentrated student; the nose buried in his books and exercises you tell him to do. would get so nervous when he looks at you that he would avoid your eyes and stumble over most of his words whenever he would talk to you.
would, whereupon the tutoring session day has come, get well dressed and hair styled. would, after a while, try to push past his awkward demeanor asking you questions alongside the lines of “have you eaten yet and you, perhaps, like my new hair?”
seonwoo
would not be afraid to ask you any questions; always has a couple of queries to ask you after he had a class of the subject you are helping him with. would be purely amazed about your smart brain, and obvious beauty.
would be so caring, sharing his food with you and fixing your hair whenever he sees that they are a bit messy — which never happens, but he needs to find an excuse to initiate physical touch. although, would not be very hesitant on doing it, you are just too peaceful to be around.
jungwon
would be captivated by you; eyes focused on your face and the way your lips move. would drink every word that fall out from your mouth as if he was a thirsty lamb.
would take the opportunity to compliment you whenever you would break into giggles and ask him what is going on, “i really love your eyes, they are beautiful,” would then tell you continue as if nothing happened right after.
riki
would be extremely giggly and all shy. would think, know even, that you are ethereal and intelligent; which makes you extremely cool in his eyes. god knows he would too mesmerized by you to concentrate on anything else but your pretty face.
would insist on walking with you back home, even though you told him it was no use— with his hand on his heart and leaning towards you a tad, would plead you to let him go with you.
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hannieehaee · 1 day
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DOES HE KNOW ?
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18+ / mdi
summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.
content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 9.8k
a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
Something was clearly wrong with you.
Was Lee Chan hot?
Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.
You could date it back to a little over a month ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.
For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).
After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.
"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.
"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.
"Wanna know a secret?"
"Sure."
"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.
You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.
Maybe he was drunk?
He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.
"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.
Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.
Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).
You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?
"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.
"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"
"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.
"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.
You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.
"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.
He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."
"He has a name, Soonyou-"
"None of us really care enough to learn it."
That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.
"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.
"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.
"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.
With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.
At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.
Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.
Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.
God damn you, Lee Chan.
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"So, when are you gonna drop this game and finally let me take you to bed?", he whispered cockily against your ear.
He was always so goddamn confident about it; a trait you always liked about him but were beginning to detest.
As per usual, you simply jokingly groaned at him and pushed him away in a manner far too light to be considered serious.
"Fuck off, Lee Chan."
With a giggle, he stepped away, usual pep in his step as present as ever.
"I'll get you another drink, 'kay, pretty?", you lost him in the crowd after that.
You'd gone drinking with your friends yet again, though this time at a distant friend's house party. Your boyfriend was absent once more due to his personal disdain for such outings. He was simply not much of a social drinker, which was fine! It just bothered you at times how often he chose staying in rather than going out with you.
Despite your rejections of Chan, you felt embarrassed to admit that you loved the thrill of his interest in you. Never had you ever had someone so shamelessly after your affections despite your lighthearted refusals. It made you feel wanted and powerful. It felt specially good when it came from a guy as handsome and charismatic as Chan; a guy who could have basically any girl all thanks to his unbelievable charisma.
Yet he wanted you. He was after you.
The guy you knew most was currently infatuated with you.
Yeah, you did need that second drink.
"Where's your guy?"
Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from behind you.
You turned around to find Vernon leaning back against the wall, a smirk on his face at having watched your encounter with Chan.
"Shut up," you walked over to recline on the wall next to him, deciding to people-watch alongside him.
"It was a genuine question," he claimed, handing you a sip of the beer he'd been nursing.
"He's working again," you sipped, handing it back to take turns as you waited for Chan to bring you your drink of choice.
"And Channie?"
"What about him?"
"Does your boyfriend know?", he asks, more curious than actually interested.
Men, nosy as usual.
You groan, "Don't ask me that, Non."
"C'mon! Has he not noticed the way Chan's been after you these past few weeks?", he seemed far too entertained by the subject.
"Of course not! Chan's kept his distance around him, but ..."
"But?"
You turned your head to him, back still leaning against the wall, "I don't know!"
"Well, do you like him? Channie, I mean."
"It's- I like the attention."
"And him?", he pressed.
"He's starting to wear me down," you admitted.
Vernon chuckled into his red solo cup, "It's cute."
"What is?"
"The back and forth, the 'will they, won't they.' But if you ask me, I think they will."
"I have a boyfriend, Non," you grumbled, not entirely convincing in your tone.
"Yeah, but are you guys even friends? Wouldn't it be better to date someone who you actually like?"
"Stop doing PR for Chan. It's not like he needs it," you grumbled, already uses to this back and forth with many of your other friends – all of whom were rooting for Chan.
"Fine. But get out of here. Your guy's probably looking for you."
"My guy's not here."
"I meant Channie, now go!"
You grumbled again before walking in the direction in which Chan had left, knowing he'd likely still be in the kitchen attempting to fetch you a drink.
It didn't take you long to find him, nor did it take you long to spot the girl standing next to him, seemingly flirting up a storm. Chan didn't seem too deterred by this either. More than anything, he appeared to he reciprocating.
Maybe this was why you and Chan started off as friends and remained so for the years you'd known each other. He always had a girl clinging onto him one way or another. Though he didn't date much, he sure enjoyed swooning girls whenever he could.
You'd always been very strict about being exclusive with whoever you dated, never wanting to compete for someone's attention or engage in prolonged talking stages. This was something you differed in with Chan. He was quite the opposite, engaging in situationships that never really led anywhere. As his friend, you never really cared much for this. If it worked for him, then that was that. However, now that he was supposedly attempting to pursue you, – despite you being in a relationship – you couldn't help but scoff at the sight of Chan still entertaining any girl that'd show interest in him.
You almost turned around and left, but were promptly stopped by the man himself, who spotted you before you could take one step and disregarded the girl immediately. The girl scoffed in your place, clearly put off by Chan's attention being taken away so easily.
"Babe!", he called out, one drink in each hand, as he approached you, "Sorry I took so long, the line was crazy."
Immaturely enough, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the drink from his hand, ignoring his statement as you sipped it. You really had no right to be jealous of Chan talking to other girls. You were taken, and you weren't even interested in Chan. Were you? Still, you disregarded those thoughts and allowed the bitterness to cloud your mind and began walking away from the boy.
"Huh?", a question mark physically manifested itself above Chan's head as you began walking away from him, "Baby? Wait, where are you going?", his arm managed to reach you before you got far enough and softly turned you around to face him.
The two of you were still standing far too close to the people crowding the kitchen, however, so Chan assessed that it'd be better to move to a quieter spot in order to properly check in on you. With a decisive nod to himself, he grabbed onto your hand and walked you over to an empty hallway before turning to you again.
"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone-"
The concern in his eyes seemed very genuine, making you feel bad for being such a brat at the mere sight of Chan interacting with another woman. You had never had an issue with your best friend being around other women. Hell, you never even cared whenever he would occasionally ditch you for other girls. The two of you were simply best friends. You had always rooted for him in his romantic life, even encouraging him with it.
But things had drastically changed as soon as he began showing interest in you.
It was like his sudden interest had unlocked a part of you you hadn't known was there. It had given you this brand new possessiveness you had never held over Chan before; a possessiveness you didn't even feel for your current boyfriend.
And it made you feel embarrassed. Tremendously so. It also made you feel like a hypocrite. Here you had a guy who was clearly extremely into you, yet he had made no comment nor expressed any disdain over the fact that you already had a guy. Chan had never expressed any type of jealousy over any of your past relationships. Despite having liked you for the entire duration of your friendship (information you were unsure Chan was aware you knew), Chan always respected your relationships and even tried to befriend any guy you brought along. Yet you couldn't hold back your bitterness at him showing interest in someone else; interest you now felt should be reserved only for you.
The hypocritical nature of your feelings made you look down in embarrassment as you interrupted Chan's inquiries, clarifying that nothing was wrong.
"No, Chan. I'm fine, I swear. Just a little tired. I, uh, thanks for the drink."
"Hey, are you sure?", he lifted your face with a finger to your chin, making you hold eye contact with him.
It was quite insane how this was not even meant as a flirtatious move, but rather a demonstration of his platonic worry for you. Yet your heart sped up anyways.
"I'm fine, Chan! It's just the crowds. You know how I get. Nonnie told me to go look for you and there were so many people in the kitchen, and then I couldn't come up to you because of that girl and-"
Your rambles were interrupted by an exclamation mark practically manifesting itself above Chan's head, with the sudden realization of your jealousy hitting him.
"Oh?", he tilted his head and leaned in a bit closer as a grin began making its way onto his face, "'That girl'?", he repeated.
"Chan-"
He got closer to you, now cornering you against the hallway wall, still giving you space but blocking your view of anything other than him.
"I'm sorry, baby. Did that bother you? Hmm? Me talking to some other girl?"
"It's not like that! I just-"
"It's okay. You can admit it. I won't judge you," except his smirk was nothing but condescending.
"Chan! I-"
"But that's kinda funny, though. Isn't it?", he chuckled to himself.
"W-what is?," you stammered at his sudden shift in mood.
Though he was still far too close for a friend to be, and he was still leaning into your touch, his tone had shifted to one a bit more cynical in nature.
"You're jealous? Baby, you have a boyfriend."
"I do, and-"
"So what's there to be jealous about? You've got your guy. Yet you're looking my way? When you've been rejecting me all this time?", he leaned even closer, almost breathing right against your nose, eyes hooded as they bore into your own, alternating between your eyes and lips in a somewhat teasing manner.
"I-I'm not jealous. Just ... Why flirt with me if you're after other girls too?", you made the mistake of asking.
"Oh, baby. I'm not looking at anyone else. Not my fault you're so possessive you can't even stand other girls looking at me," you knew he was simply teasing you, knowing full well that you were not the possessive type. But his words carried a slight weight of truth behind them.
You had no reason to feel any type of possessiveness over Chan. Yet you still felt uneasy at the thought of Chan's eyes on anyone who wasn't you. Now that you had a taste of his attention you wanted it all to yourself.
"I just have one question," he whispered, far too close to you.
You nodded at him to continue, wide eyes on his own.
"Does he know?"
"Know what?"
"That you like me back," his eyes went down to your lips again.
"Chan. Stop. I-I'm not gonna cheat on my boyfriend," you huffed, avoiding his eyes – which was quite hard at his close proximity.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, with your eyes occasionally dropping to his lips. But it was fine, since his own were also on yours – though his expression was more triumphant than anything, while yours revealed your nerves. Had you been in a less restricting position, your thighs would've instinctively pressed together at the thoughts that were suddenly running through your mind at his proximity, but thankfully the situation didn't drag long enough for your lust to reveal itself.
He finally pulled away, smirk still on his face, "I'd never ask you to do that, baby. 's just nice to know my plan's working," he chuckled.
"What plan?"
"I'm wearing you down. You want me."
Unfortunately, you had no rebuttal, knowing that Chan had won this round. Even if you denied his statement (which you had half the mind to do), he had caught you red handed. You had whined about not having his full attention just like a petulant child would. Nothing you said would save you from that.
You managed to move on from that quite quickly, finding Soonyoung and Kwannie just a few moments later and using them as an excuse to move on from the way in which Chan had cornered you. You spent the rest of the party pondering Chan's words. Did you actually want him? Or was it just that you wanted him to want you?
Now you were stuck with embarrassing moisture between your thighs and countless doubts hanging over your head.
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"C-Channie! Oh, Channie, fuck!"
Your cries of pleasure were unparalleled as the pretty boy you liked to call your best friend slurped at your cunt like a starved man.
You weren't sure how long he had been at it, nor were you sure how you'd ended up in this situation, but you had no complaints. His tongue between your thighs was pure heaven, especially with the pathetic whines the boy kept letting out at your taste.
"'sso good, princess. Cunt's so tasty ... Been wanting it since I met you ... Been waiting for you for years," he mumbled against your cunt, getting back to licking and sucking immediately.
While your heart was unsure what to make of such a heavy statement, your body responded with desperation. To have a man yearn for you like that for years was doing wonders for your cunt. It made you gush like crazy, beginning to grind against Chan's face in such a depraved way.
"Just like that, fuck. Fuck my face just like that," he groaned, the vibrations of his voice causing you to grind even harder against him.
"C-Channie! It's so good ... So fucking good, oh!"
He seemed to get off on your praise, you realized, as you felt ruckus on the bed beneath you caused by Chan canting his hips against your mattress and moaning incessantly into your cunt. The knowledge of your taste alone making Chan lose himself in such a way was enough to drive you towards your high, getting closer and closer by the second.
"Gonna make me cum, princess. Got such a pretty fucking pussy," he managed to breathe out despite exerting all his efforts into fucking the mattress.
Surprising to no one, Chan claimed your orgasm on his tongue just moments later, somehow managing to talk you through it and make the experience even more swoon-worthy than it already was. Chan had managed to make you feel a way no one had ever before, making you ache for him with just his words.
It had all ended far sooner than you would've liked, but it was fine. You knew that with a few kisses to his ear Chan would give you whatever you wanted without question.
Yet before you could even get to enjoy the entirety of your high, it was abruptly taken from you the moment your alarm began ringing, awakening you from what you hadn't realized was just slumber.
Waking up from a wet dream was already embarrassing enough on its own, but waking up from a wet dream about your best friend whom you swore you weren't into like that was a new level of low.
As much as you tried to brush it off as some sort of fluke or meaningless dream, you knew better. You had never thought of Chan in such a way, much less imagined him in that context, so it was safe to say that Chan had been right. His plan was working.
~
The following hours were spent on alert (and still incredibly horny). You thought about calling up your boyfriend to help you out, but the thought in itself felt dirty. How could you ask your boyfriend to take care of a problem caused by your best friend? There was that, and the fact that your brain would probably not be satisfied by your boyfriend right now.
You needed to get Chan out of your system.
You knew that if you called up Chan and explained your problem to him he'd come running immediately, no questions asked as he helped you relive your dream. Such a thought had your head spinning and your knees feeling weak. Except you had a moral compass that was preventing you from doing so. So, you spent the next few hours extremely sensitive and attempting to take care of yourself in any way you could think of.
Unfortunately nothing compared to your dream. Nothing felt as warm and loving as Chan had felt. There was not a single thing that could bring back that feeling of want Chan had towards you; a feeling you were so desperate for. This led you to spend the rest of the day sexually frustrated, unable to reach your high as you felt something was thoroughly missing.
Even when your boyfriend stopped by to see you after work, things had gone awry. You'd received him at the door in a desperate manner, dragging him in with you and inciting him into fucking you. You didn't care if you had Chan in mind anymore, you just needed some satisfying release. Sadly, your boyfriend did not match your energy, opting to slow you down and have his way with you in his own way. This led to yet another unsatisfying release to add to today's tally. You were unsure if you could even call it a release, as it felt entirely underwhelming and had been mostly accomplished by your own hand.
Going to sleep, still sexually frustrated, you cursed at yourself for letting Lee Chan get in your head.
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Spending time with Chan after your incident was nothing less than incredibly awkward.
Despite Chan being fully unaware of what had gone down in your subconscious, you couldn't help the blush that would take over your face any time the two of you made eye contact. He had all the power at the moment.
You had also made the mistake of discussing the occurrence with your closest friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. Purposely, you had not mentioned the name of the culprit behind your wet dream, but it had not been hard for your nosy friends to figure it out on their own.
"You had a sex dream about Channie?!", Soonyoung had all but whispered, causing some old ladies across the diner to look your way in judgment.
Fortunately not too many people were present at the diner you were currently hanging out at, but it didn't really help the embarrassment you felt at the words even being uttered. This was the only time in which you could see your friends without Chan's presence, so you couldn't be too picky about the setting.
"Soonyoung! Shut the hell up!", you whisper-shouted at him, throwing a rolled up napkin at him in punishment, "I never said it was about Chan."
"Please. Who else would it be about? Sure as hell can't be about your vanilla boyfriend. And anyone else like Mingyu or Wonwoo would be too obvious for you to be so embarrassed about it. It has to be Chan," Seungkwan butted in nonchalantly.
"I- It's- my boyfriend is not vanilla!"
"You didn't deny it! It was Channie!", Soonyoung was far too excited at having guessed correctly.
Giving up, and knowing you needed some external input on your predicament, you nodded in shame, admitting to your sin in order to maybe get some advice on the situation.
"What do I do? I ... I can't stop thinking about it. Fuck, I can't even look at Chan in the eye anymore."
"Was it good?"
"Soonyoung, stop! That's not the point."
"He has a point. Not really worth ruining your relationship over some mediocre head," argued Seungkwan.
"Shut up! It- Fuck, it was so good," you groaned into your hands in utter embarrassment.
"Dude I knew Chan would be good at head. It's in his eyes. I'm telling you, people with those big doe eyes are freaks in bed," Soonyoung couldn't seem to stop spewing his headcanon of Chan at you.
"Or at least dream-Chan is," agreed Kwan.
"What do I do?! It won't leave my mind. I- I've already tried fucking it out of my head, but even then-"
"Hold on. You had sex with your boyfriend while thinking about Chan? Does he know?"
"Soonyoung!"
"Man, he'd pass out if he heard that. Do you know how many time's he's walked us through his sex dreams?", cackled Soonyoung.
This obviously caught your attention, making you widen your eyes and fastening the speed of your heartbeat.
Chan had had sex dreams about you too?
I mean, it should've been obvious considering the amount of dirty innuendos and straight-up proposals he's given you these past few weeks, but you had never actually thought about it in depth.
Fuck.
Chan wanted to fuck you.
The thought made you gulp and press your thighs together, actions your friends thankfully did not catch onto.
"He, uh, he's told you about his sex dreams about me?", you asked with a complete lack of confidence in your voice.
"God, don't even get him started," grumbled Seungkwan, slurping his almost empty americano before continuing, "It's Hoshi who keeps instigating him into telling us every excruciating detail."
Soonyoung nodded in confirmation, "Dude, he gets nasty," he whispers as if it was a sin to utter out loud – despite having previously aired your own sex dream to the whole diner.
God, were you interested in knowing more. But you couldn't blow your cover. You were far too horny and pent up already. Hearing about how your sexy (yes, you were at the point of shamelessly admitting it) best friend giving it to you in the nastiest scenarios imaginable would probably make you combust in front of your best friends and every other unsuspecting person in the establishment.
With dry lips and wetness already gathering between your thighs, you simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved on with the conversation, eventually managing to change subjects without giving away your cover.
~
Never in your life had you ever had such urgency in getting home.
Upon locking your front door, you immediately ran to your bed, undressing yourself in the process and getting ready to rid yourself of the ache between your legs that had been bothering you since that wretched dream.
You knew that you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself as well as you wanted without Chan's aid (you'd tried endless times just a few days ago), but trying was better than nothing.
Getting yourself started was easy. All you had to do was remember the very vivid image of dream-Chan slobbering between your legs, begging you to use his face however you saw fit and claim your orgasm as if it were a god-given right.
But imagination wasn't enough.
You had half the mind to call up Chan right there and then and crying to him to please come and take care of you. The repeated knowledge that Chan would likely come to you with no question nor judgement made the task of holding back even harder. It made you cry at the frustration your fingers were giving you; they just weren't enough. Not even after the endless attempts these past few days had you been able to calm the fire between your legs. The last time you saw your boyfriend – just after your damned sex dream – had been yet another failed attempt. It seemed like nothing could truly get you there.
That's when you thought of the perfect thing.
Chan always had the tendency of either taking you home himself or sending you a short voice message to ensure you had arrived home safely – always insisting on one in return. This message always contained Chan's raspy voice after a long day of shenanigans, usually calling you one pet name or another as he checked in on you.
No matter how ashamed you felt at it, the burning between your legs did seem to diminish upon turning up the short voice message he had left you just last week. His words, accompanied by his voice, did wonders for your imagination.
"Hey, babe", it had started, "Just wanted to check in on you and make sure you got home okay. Need you to send me a message back as soon as you can, yeah?"
This had been enough to start you up again, the usual 'babe' nickname and the soft command causing an effect on you it never had in all your years of friendship.
"You looked so pretty today," he sighed, "Did I tell you that? Need to be telling you that every day. You're gorgeous. Don't even know how such a pretty girl puts up with us," he chuckled.
Oh, Channie ...
He'd always been so sweet to you. Such a fun friend, but also such a sweet boy who'd always coddle you and treat you better than anyone else. You could almost picture him swooning at you as he reminisced on the pretty dress you'd worn that day.
You couldn't think of anyone else who thought of you that fondly. Yet you were currently too busy using an unsuspecting Chan to get off after days of being pent up due to that same boy.
"Miss you already, gorgeous. Should've taken you home myself, ugh," he groaned at himself, "That way I would've at least gotten a goodnight kiss," he paused, chuckling, "on the cheek, of course."
It was probably just your horny brain talking, but had Chan been in front of you at that moment, you would've done far more than just kiss him. You didn't know where all this sudden lust for Chan had come from, but that dream had come with an epiphany. Maybe you'd been attracted to your best friend all this time.
"'Kay, Imma leave you now, okay, princess? Message me back when you're ready for bed, alright? You know how I worry. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you," he ended the recording with a soft kiss.
The short voice message wasn't enough to work yourself up to an orgasm, so you revisited as many of his old messages as you could, recalling some specially soft ones he'd send you where he'd call you all the petnames known to man and praise you enough to make you blush.
You also thought about what Soonyoung had said, how Chan's dreams about you would get nasty. You thought of every nasty thing the man was probably itching to do to you. You thought of how easily you'd let him if he was here at this moment.
Throughout it all, you pictured Chan and the actions that would accompany his words if he were in the room with you. You imagined the soft touches and the praise he'd spew endlessly at you. The eyes full of genuine love – mixed with a little lust – that would watch you as you came undone.
And come undone you did. It wasn't as good as it would've been with the real Chan present and taking care of you, but it sure beat the multiple unsatisfying orgasms you'd had in the past few days.
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"We broke up."
Those were your opening words upon approaching the usual table you shared with your friends.
This time Seokmin had decided to join.
"You what?"
"Because of Chan?"
"Really?!"
All responses were delivered simultaneously, making you groan as you sat down, knowing you were in for a lengthy interrogation from the three nosiest men you knew.
You covered your face in your hands and exhaled before unmasking yourself and facing your friends with seriousness in your demeanor.
"Didn't feel right when I kept thinking about Chan," you started, "He understood, which made it worse. Said he'd been too busy with work lately, was thinking of taking some time apart anyways."
It had been a few days since your wet dream about Chan. After your lonely escapade the night after – the night with the cursed voice memos – you had gone over to your boyfriend's place to end it. You hadn't hung out much in the past few weeks. There had been no spark for a bit. The goodness of your short-lived relationship was probably just the honeymoon period, which ended around the same time Chan decided to make his interest on you known.
It was all too much to deal with, so breaking it off seemed easier.
"Wow," aired Soonyoung.
"Yeah. Wow. How are you feeling?", asked Seokmin.
"I'm fine. Just, you know, feel kinda bad. I didn't want to be with someone if my heart wasn't fully in it," you mumbled, a little solemn.
"Does Channie know?"
"God, no. I've been avoiding him since," you eyed Kwan and Soonyoung, "uh, you know," you didn't want Seokmin to be yet another one of your friends to know about your sexual escapades in your slumber.
"Oh, you mean the sex dream?"
Your stare turned menacing, facing the only two possible culprits, "Who told him?"
"It was Soonie!", Seungkwan revealed immediately.
"Wait! No, I-"
"Did you tell anyone else? Oh my god, does Chan know?!"
"No! I only told Seokmin, I swear! He asked why we were meeting while Chan's working, so I told him."
"Don't worry, I won't tell. Scout's honor."
Seokmin held an innocent pinky towards you. Already done with the situation, you halfheartedly intertwined pinkies and moved on.
"So ... Channie?", Seungkwan asked once more.
"What about him?", you feigned curiosity.
"Playing dumb isn't gonna help things."
"What, do you want me to tell him about my dream?"
"That'd be kinda weird, man, I don't know," added Seokmin.
"I think it'd be hot."
"Soonyoung, shut up!", you told him for the nth time since the subject of your 'crush' on Chan had first come up.
Seungkwan side-eyed them before continuing, "No, but you like him, don't you?"
Did you? Did you actually like Chan?
Before Chan had showed interest in you, you had never considered it. Ever since you'd met him, Chan had always been nothing more than your best friend, your partner in crime. You had never felt as safe and comfortable with anyone as you had with Chan, and that was still the case. No boyfriend had ever made you feel as at ease as Chan always did.
His crush had brought out something in you. Had it been any other friend who suddenly revealed their feelings for you, you would've reacted in horror. But it was different with Chan. For some reason, you didn't feel put off by it, nor did you try to chase him away for his feelings for you. It wasn't one of those situations where the boy suddenly decides to pursue his girl-friend and ruins the friendship altogether. This had opened pandora's box for you, making you realize that Chan's affections would've always been welcomed by you.
Even if you jokingly rejected him or told your friends you had a boyfriend, it was all simply due to your moral compass. You weren't a cheater, so you couldn't take Chan too seriously even if you wanted to. But now you were single, and now you had to figure out if you really wanted Chan in the same way he wanted you.
"I know that I want him, but I need to make sure that I want him, you know? I'd never want to hurt his feelings or jeopardize our friendship just because I was horny one day."
"So you're scared it might just be that you're sexually attracted to him?"
"No, it's just ..."
"You want to know whether or not you like him and not just the attention he gives you."
It was surprisingly Soonyoung who had deciphered it.
"Y-yeah. Fuck. Does that make me a narcissist?"
"Nah. It's better to be sure. You've been friends with Channie since forever. It makes sense for you to wanna be cautious."
"You should probably stop avoiding him, though. He's, uh, starting to notice," revealed Seokmin.
"Yeah, he won't stop whining. Just put him out of his misery already," said Soonie.
"Okay, I guess I'll talk to him next time I see him."
You didn't really feel ready for it, but the time to confront Chan would have to come sooner or later.
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Next time you saw Chan was actually far too soon for your liking. Just the following day you found yourself at yet another house party; a small gathering among your friend group and some other people. It wasn't anything too big, so you knew that you'd inevitably bump into Chan.
It had only been about a week since you last spoke to Chan, but that had been a week too long. Throughout the duration of your friendship, the longest you ever went without constant communication had been three days, which had been a total accident on both your parts. The two of you would at least text once a day, even coming to have an unbroken streak of endless texts.
Fuck, you missed him.
Chan obviously must've noticed your lack of communication these past few days. You weren't even sure why you had decided to keep him in the dark. It wasn't just the wet dream (which was still haunting you, but had moved to the back burner for now), and it wasn't your breakup either. You were just confused about your feelings for the boy, but punishing him by icing him out had been far too much. Now you felt guilty.
You felt extra guilty when you finally spotted Chan across the party, sitting alone on a loveseat while he attempted but failed at discreetly looking over at you. He looked like a wounded puppy as he did so, pout on his lips and furrowed brows. It made you want to kiss the pout right off his face.
It was easy to tell that he wanted to approach you, but was simply trying his hardest to respect the boundary you had seemingly put up out of nowhere. This meant that you'd have to be the one to talk to him.
Then you took action, throwing away the drink you had been nursing and walking over to him, ignoring his shocked expression when you wordlessly grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty room in the shared house. You locked the door and turned to him, unsure on what to say first.
Chan was the now the one to surprise you, immediately trapping you in a bear hug and burying his face in your shoulder, loudly breathing you in.
He didn't let go for a couple of minutes, even nudging you to keep hugging him back when you went to pull away.
When he finally let go, you finally had the chance to look at the boy for a moment.
Yeah, you liked him.
You had missed him far too much to be able to deny it.
You liked Lee Chan, and you were ready to let it be known to the world.
But then he started speaking.
"I'm so sorry," he started, utterly confusing you as to what he could be apologizing for, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I, fuck. I must've crossed a line with my flirting, and I never meant to. You're my best friend, and I need to respect you, an-and I need to respect your relationship. I thought that maybe somehow I could get you to see me as more than a friend, but it was stupid of me to assume you'd drop your boyfriend just because your dumb friend suddenly had a crush on you – which, uh, isn't the case, by the way," he looked down, embarrassed, "I've liked you since we met. So much. I assumed Hoshi must've told you by now. Anyways, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll stop. I will never bring it up again, just, fuck, please don't be mad. I'll take anything you give me. If friendship is what you want then I'll be the bestest friend you've ever had, just-"
It was impossible to take his senseless rambles anymore. You were getting too emotional at the thought of having put Chan through this turmoil when you had spent the last few days tending to the ache he had caused between your legs and subsequently breaking up with your boyfriend in order to figure out your feelings. It made you feel equally embarrassed and ridiculous, yet the effects of your silence made you begin to tear up at the apologetic boy in front of you.
Interrupting him, you hugged him again, somehow even tighter this time. This thankfully shut him up, allowing his body to lose its tension and letting himself become limp in your hold.
After some more moments of silent hugging, you were the one to pull away this time, giving him a sympathetic smile as you raised a hand to caress his cheek. It made you soon the way in which he leaned against your palm and gave you the sweetest smile known to man.
"Channie, you did nothing wrong ... I'm sorry for cutting you off like that, that was so wrong of me. I should've talked to you and told you how I was feeling. I wish I was half as confident about my feelings as you are, but I just felt so-" you paused, not knowing what you were even trying to express, "a-and then I just started avoiding you to avoid my feelings all together. I'm sorry."
"No, you have nothing to apologize for," he put his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were understanding his point, "I should've respected your boundaries. I never even should've tried to pursue you when I know you have a boyfriend, it was so-"
"had", you clarified, shy.
"what?"
"I had a boyfriend. We, uh, we broke up a few days ago."
"You ... Fuck, was it because of me?"
His eyes were like saucers, but you could see a small hint of a smile that he quickly wiped off when he realized the context of the situation.
"I want to say no, but ... yeah, I did."
Still feeling unbelievably ashamed at the memory of what had first led you to consider breaking up with your boyfriend, – a stupid wet dream you still couldn't get out of your mind – you avoided eye contact. Now you knew that that had only been the catalyst of realizing your feelings for Chan, but it still didn't help matters much, specially knowing that Chan would find out sooner or later.
"God, I'm so so sorry-"
"Chan! Stop apologizing! It wasn't because of anything you did. I just ... I realized some things these past few weeks and .. I realized we weren't really right for each other," you took a breath, "Not when you were all I could think about."
"Y-you ...?"
"I'm going to be candid, okay? Just, please don't interrupt."
He nodded, giving you the green light.
"A little over a week ago, uh, something happened. And then I couldn't keep you out of my mind. I tried talking to the guys, I even tried using my boyfriend as a distraction, but nothing worked. I started avoiding you because I just felt so awkward realizing I was beginning to develop feelings for you. It was wrong of me, but I needed time. I broke up with him because it didn't feel right to be with someone else while you were the only person I wanted around."
Saying it felt like a breath of fresh air. Not only were you admitting it to Chan, but also to yourself. Your friendship with Chan had never been your average friendship. Even before he had decided to begin shamelessly hitting on you, he had always been the sweetest and most caring boy you'd ever met. Sending you voice memos every time you went home alone, always being in charge of getting your drinks, driving you wherever you wanted, being overly affectionate with you any time he felt you might've needed it. The boy had always been the perfect match for you, you just couldn't grasp it until he began to literally shove it in your face.
"What made you realize it?"
Not expecting him to question you, but rather just accept your sudden change of heart, you hadn't thought of how to explain to him that a sex dream was what had brought you to this epiphany.
But what did you have to lose at this point? Most of your friends already knew, and to be quite frank, you still wanted Chan extremely badly. Telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.
"I, uh, I had a dream about you ..." you muttered, eyes avoiding his own.
His already wide eyes widened even more, a smirk forming itself on his features as he tilted his head in question.
"Uhm, care to repeat that for me?"
"Chan, shut the fuck up. You heard me."
"I didn't! Just tell me. Please?"
With a sigh, you repeated yourself, this time a little more clear, "I had a dream about you."
"Uh-huh. What type of dream?"
"Chan!"
"Princess, please. I embarrassed myself for you for weeks. I pined for you for years. Just give me what I wanna hear," he pleaded, somehow cocky in the way he did so.
"Fuck, fine. I had a wet dream about you. I dreamt about you between my legs, giving me the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced and begging me for more. I dreamt of your pathetic whines while I ground my cunt on your face. And then I woke up before I could cum. I spent the entire day trying to get that feeling back but nothing worked, Chan, nothing. I couldn't look you in the eyes after that so I just avoided you."
Finally giving him the most candid version of the events made you feel a weight leave your shoulders, specially upon realizing that the boy who currently held your heart had been rendered unable to use this as ammunition against you as you watched his cocky expression turn into one of lust.
"Oh," he breathed out. Taking a few moments to regain his composure, he spoke up again, "W-was that it? Or do you, uh, do you also like me back?"
"I like you, Chan. So much. The dream was just what made me realize that I wanted you in every way imaginable."
A decisive expression now took over his face, nodding to himself before moving closer to you, taking up all your personal space.
"That's all I needed to know," he declared before claiming your lips in a heated kiss.
Chan kissed you with everything he had to give. The kiss immediately grew lustful, with Chan licking into your mouth for access the second you made the smallest sound of surprise. And, fuck was Chan a great kisser.
His tongue was practically making love to yours, rendering your legs weak and shaky. Thankfully Chan realized this, pushing you to the nearest wall so that he could continue to take over all your senses.
Scratching and pulling at his hair, you caused Chan to moan against your lips, only making you whine in return. Chan took this as a sign to move forward, beginning to grind his expert hips against your own. Already hard, Chan's clothed cock felt like heaven against your burning cunt. You had begged for a proper release for days, and you were now afraid that some light dry humping would be enough to take you there before you could finally relive your dream.
But did you care? Did you care enough to halt Chan's movements when they were already making your eyes roll back? Your body made the decision for you, pushing your hips against his own and making him release a gruttal groan against your lips.
"N-need you so fucking bad ..." he breathed against your lips, barely able to get a word out as you insisted of licking into his mouth as he spoke. This made him groan again, "Princess, please ... You're gonna kill me."
Pulling away, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, making eyed at him as you spoke, "Channie, just touch me. Don't care what you do, just ... just take care of the problem you caused."
He whined at the feeling of your body at his palms, immediately groping and feeling up every inch of your body before trapping your mouth in another heated kiss. His hands soon became too desperate to feel you through your clothes, carelessly unwrapping you from every piece of clothing he could. He left you in your underwear, having thrown off your dress and holding onto your hands so you could haphazardly kick off your shoes. Chan's clothes joined soon after, with his own hands throwing off all but his boxers.
Before he could claim your lips in a kiss again, you grabbed him by the hand, leading him to a nearby couch in order to sit him down. Sitting on his lap, you kissed him again and again, thoroughly enjoying how liberal his hands were in the way he touched you.
Finally throwing off your bra, you felt up your tits a bit as Chan watched you with a pained look in his face, mouth open and eyes glued to your breasts. His lips attached to your tits immediately after, going crazy in the way he suckled and bit at them.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled against your tit, "Fuck, dreamt about you every night ... This pretty body and all your pretty noises. Can't believe I get to have you now," he kissed his way back up to your neck, hands never halting in their caressing of your body.
He pulled away to look into your eyes – though his eyes kept dropping to your lips, "You're embarrassed about your dream?", he chuckled, "Want me to tell you some of mine? Hmm?", he began to manhandle you, positioning you so that you could lay horizontally on the couch and he could lay above you, "So fucking nasty, baby, it'd make you blush."
"Channie ..."
"Gonna do so many nasty things to you. Want me to whine for your pussy? Oh, baby ... Gonna beg for pussy every day, shit," his hand went down to rub your wet cunt through your panties, "'sso wet," he groaned, "Gonna lick it all up again and again. Need to suffocate between these thighs," he made his way down your body as he said this, eventually coming face to face with your cunt.
Leaving a kiss on your weeping cunt, he licked through your panties, causing you to arch your back for him and throw your head back. The warmth of his tongue could've been enough to claim your orgasm, but somehow you persisted.
Chan became desperate for you quickly after that, removing your panties and lifting your thighs so that he could finally bury himself between your legs the way you'd been wanting him to for so long.
"Channie, fuck!," you cried, pulling at his hair while pushing his head further against you.
"Use me. God, just ... Grind that cunt against me ..."
And so you did. You took advantage of your pretty best friend's desperation for you and employed your own desperation for him. To any outsider, you must've looked like the image of depravity as you used Chan for your pleasure, but Chan was just as depraved. You could feel the couch shake from under you, indicating the way in which Chan ground against it as you claimed your orgasm on his tongue.
Riding your high was an incomparable experience. No one had ever made you feel as much pleasure as Chan had. Not even dream-Chan lived up to reality.
You could've sworn you lost consciousness for a few moments after your high, feeling completely weightless when it had finally died down. Your ability to think only came back by the time Chan had climbed back up your body and kissed at your chest once more, smiling at you when he finally reached your lips.
Instead of sharing a sweet moment with him, you claimed his lips once more and licked every last bit of your essence from his mouth. He groaned and allowed his tongue to mingle with yours in such a nasty manner that it made you blush when you remembered that Chan was nothing more than your best friend less than an hour ago.
"Let me fuck you," Chan pleaded when he finally managed to pull away from your greedy lips.
"How do you want me?", you asked as your lips tried to reclaim his yet again. Fuck, he was such a good kisser.
"Fuck. I get to choose?"
You couldn't help but be endeared by him. Also incredibly turned on by how much he clearly wanted you.
Without another word, he repositioned you so you'd be on your hands and knees, running his hand down your back to press the arch of your back a little deeper. He groaned at the sight of you arching your back as deliciously as you could, wiggling your ass as you looked back at him with a cheeky smile, lip trapped between your teeth.
"I've been waiting for this for years, shit. I'm not gonna last."
That made you giggle, continuing to press yourself up against him to get him to break.
"Just fuck me, Channie. Promise it's gonna feel so good."
"Yeah, baby. Gonna fuck you so good."
His tip then finally made contact with your cunt, being dragged up and down your folds as you whined at the feeling. He finally began to penetrate you after becoming too desperate himself.
"You're so fucking warm ..." he breathed out.
Sighing out at the fullness, you pushed back against him, encouraging him to begin fucking into you. Chan took no time in following your lead, adopting a desperate pace almost immediately.
The sounds of skin slapping took over the room, only accompanied by sighs and moans of pleasure from you or Chan. The occasional whiny praise also left his lips every so often. The needy way in which he fucked you had you reeling. Chan had the ability to make you feel extremely desired and like getting to fuck you was the greatest privilege known to man. The way his hands caressed you and his pleas for you to 'please push it back on him' made the experience all the more dreamy to you.
Dream-Chan truly stood no chance to the real one.
"Princess, gonna- fuck, gonna fucking cum. W-where can I?", he grunted from behind, his thrusts somehow becoming even more animalistic.
There was no moment of hesitation in your voice – though shaky from the way in which Chan rutted against you – when you gave him the green light to cum inside you. His groan upon your confirmation only made your back arch even more. Chan's want for you continued to make you feel lightheaded.
Halfway through his own orgasm, Chan triggered your own through the way his hand dipped under you and toyed with your clit. After only one day with you, your best friend already knew how to get you there immediately. He talked you through your orgasm, giving you endless praise about how beautiful you were, how he didn't deserve such a pretty bestie to fuck so good, how he'd beg for you day after day if necessary.
Upon your highs wearing down, Chan managed to reposition you so you could lay next to him. (though almost entirely on top of him) He held you close to him, soft in the way he ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm, enjoying the goosebumps forming. His hand would eventually go over to your face and caress your cheek while his nose rubbed against your own. Treating you like a doll, Chan made you swoon yet again.
"I love you."
Then the world stopped.
"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. It wasn't just a crush. I'm in love with you. And ... and I want you to be mine. Will you be my girlfriend?"
It was all whispered against you, with a soft smile accompanying the whispered words.
"I love you too," the words left your mouth so naturally you were sure they'd been stuck there forever, "Yes, Channie. I'll be your girlfriend," you couldn't help but smile as you said those words.
"Fuck, thank God," he breathed out, hugging you to him, "I never would've gotten over you if you said no. The guys never would've heard the end of it."
He made you laugh, as per usual.
You knew things would only change for the better, so you weren't scared about the change in dynamic that was to come from letting Chan out of the friendzone. All you felt was excitement to finally be with him without guilt.
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content: established relationship, chan's pov, banter, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of lingerie, teasing, dry humping, riding, etc.
wc: 695 (teaser); 1773 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
Chan had waited for this moment for years. The moment he finally had you all to himself and the moment that would start the rest of his life with you.
Sleeping with you last night had somehow surpassed his craziest of dreams – and he had dreamt about it a lot.
The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you moaned against his mouth as his tongue suckled on yours, the sight of your bare body, the feeling of your hands caressing every inch of his body, the taste of your wet cunt ... fuck. He could go on forever reminiscing about you and how obsessed with your touch he had already become.
It had only been a bit over a day since he had woken up next to you on that couch. Granted, the sleep had been slightly uncomfortable, but he had gotten to feel your warm skin against his own as he slept, so it had been worth it.
After some sheepish reaffirmation of your feelings for one another, you had redressed and left the shared house, pinkies intertwined as you went home. Sadly, you had busy days, so you weren't able to see one another at all throughout the following 24 hours. But! You had agreed to see each other tonight for a quiet dinner at Chan's apartment – courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.
Opening the door to his apartment, Chan's chin practically hit the floor when he spotted you in that dress.
Chan had seen you in all types of getups throughout all his years of knowing you. He had obviously seen you in the prettiest of dresses, the tightest and most sinfully tailored pieces. But nothing compared to the pretty little thing you were currently donning.
It was a black slip dress. It wasn't too tight nor too loose. The fabric barely covered his favorite parts of your body, making him reminisce on how they looked without anything covering them at all. You were also shamelessly donning the few hickeys he had left on you just one day ago. Chan was convinced you'd been sent on this Earth to ruin him, to make him a shell of himself and rid him of any ability to act as a functional human being.
The dinner went quite well. You and Chan were far too used to each other for it to go anything but perfect. Your usual banter was present, though Chan now had the privilege of running his hand up and down any sliver of skin he could reach as you teased him about one thing or another. He enjoyed the innocent touches he could give you without any sense of guilt you might be taken by some loser who didn't deserve you. The right to touch you was now entirely reserved by him, just as it should've always been.
It was all perfectly innocent until it wasn't.
Eventually moving to the couch to entertain yourselves with some streaming service, you cuddled against each other. This was an ordinary occurrence between you even as friends. Sure, the cuddling was now a little extra close – with you practically sitting on his lap – but it wasn't anything too intimate so far.
It seemed like this wasn't enough for you, though. It didn't take you too long to move onto his lap, now sitting on top of him while his arms wrapped around your middle. Chan chose to just follow along with whatever position you wanted to cuddle in, just happy to be there at all. Your hands would play with his own, clearly not attentive to the movie at all.
Innocently at first, you rubbed your own hands up and down his arms. This later came to you leading his hands to rub up and down the expanse of your thighs, coming up high enough to lift up most of your skirt. This then evolved into you dipping one of his hands to rub against your panties.
Chan's eyes rolled back when he felt the warmth of your cunt under his hand, already moist and ready for him. You kept pressing his hand against you, so Chan took the hint to play with you.
...
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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Could I request Argenti, Sunday, Sampo, and Gepard finding out their s/o made different plushies of them to cuddle?
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Gepard;
This poor guy is blushing to the high heavens upon meeting his plush counterpart that bore a cute yet stoic expression.
The lil guy was no bigger than your hand.
‘There isn’t more of them is there?’ He’d ask and you smiled as you then proceeded to show him the countless others that you’ve made in your spare time.
The poor man was even more flustered than before if that was even possible to begin with. I mean you even made one where he’s holding a cute -but dead- potted plant while pouting!
Despite how flustered he may seem upon seeing himself in cute plushy form, he was really impressed with how good they came out and found the attention to detail you had amazing because it meant everything he’s ever told you was incorporated into each and every plush with love and affection.
‘I’m just curious, what made you want to make these plushies?’ He’d ask and when you told him it was to cuddle something while he was away doing his job.
He feels guilty for not spending as much time as he’d like with you because he throughly enjoys being with you and becomes visibly upset when is needed elsewhere, but he’s never been one to not uphold duty. ‘I’ll do better next time.’ He’d tell you.
You put your hands on his shoulders. ‘You already are doing better Gepard, I know how important this job is for you and I’m not going to ask you to choose between me or your job, that’s cruel of me as your partner to make you chose between two things you love with all your heart.’ You tell him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling it grow warm under your lips.
‘But-‘
‘But nothing.’ You cut him off. ‘I’ll always be here waiting for you and bedsides,’ you lifted the plush!Gepard, smiling when you saw the blonde blush. ‘I’ll always have you close by in plush form to love on and cuddle with.’ You added cheekily as Gepard held you close and burrowed his face into your neck, cuasing you to laugh at his cuteness.
Argenti:
Is utterly in love with us plush counterpart and appraise your attention to detail made to the plush also, from his pretty eyes, cherry red hair and so forth.
Asks you if there’s more plushies that you’ve made of him while kissing your hands in thanks for their creativity and skill.
You of course said yes.
‘You have a true talent here my beloved flower,’ Argenti praises as he holds the plush of him gently in his hands. ‘This is truly magnificent.’
Your flustered at this point from all of his genuine and sincere comments. ‘Oh they aren’t that great-‘
Argenti then looks at you with wide eyes. ‘Aren’t that great? My beloved rose, your plushies are beyond great! They are beautiful in their own right.’ The cherry haired knight says as he holds your face in his hands. ‘So please don’t doubt your capabilities when they are only just beginning to shine.’
Probably Alamo cried when you tell him the reason you made plush!Argenti was so you could still have something that reminds you of him to keep you company while he was away.
Sunday:
Finds it amusing and adorable as he watched you cuddle against the plush version of himself as though your life depended on it.
‘These are truly impressive my dear.’ He’d say as he looks upon the other plushies of him that you’ve made this far, all dressed in different attires and bore different expressions with deep interest before looking back at you. ‘Is there a reason behind them all? Revisiting an old habit perhaps in crocheting?’ He adds.
‘No, not really, I just wanted to make a plush that I could cuddle with when you’re away.’ You admitted truthfully and Sunday felt his heart melt at your sweet confession as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
‘I apologise for making you miss me and I apologise for the lack of time between us but I’m glad you found a way to compensate for my absence.’ Sunday says as he boops plush Sunday on the nose. ‘Though now I’m here, I’m sure our plush friend here can be relived from his duties for the night?’ He then adds and you blink at him.
Was he…was Sunday jealous of his plush counter part? How cute was that.
‘I’m sure he can take the night off.’ You obliged and set the plushie down on your desk and you joined Sunday in bed, cuddled up and quickly lulled by his bodily warmth into a comfortable sleep.
Sampo:
Can and will show off his little plush counter part to anyone and everyone within view and would listen to him for longer then five minutes.
But imagine his surprise when he finds out that you have other variations of him, his ego skyrockets to unfathomable heights!
‘You must be super in love with me to make a plush of me! How embarrassing!’ Sampo says.
‘Sampo we’ve been dating for a while now.’ You replied with a blank face.
Anyways Sampo loved the little plushies of him and would even take one with him when you weren’t looking to send you pictures of the adventures of plushie sampo through the entire day.
You couldn’t find it within yourself to get made at him for stealing your plushie because the pictures were too cute.
Hell you might even find him cuddle up to one of them if you were carful enough.
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rjchocobi · 2 days
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HOLD STILL, PRETTY BOY, lee haechan
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♡ . . . synopsis ; when your pretty boyfriend can't seem to stand in one place for a moment for you to snap a picture.
♡ . . . genre ; haechan × idol! fem reader, oh so silly fluff, inspired by the pictures from inkigayo bts they posted that took my breath away, established relationship.
♡ . . . notes ; i've been writing a lot these past few days and i think i'm over my slump. but i always start overthinking and never end up posting anything. here's to the first post on tumblr! just taking baby steps till i can put together something that lives up to my standards.
p.s also, requests are officially open!
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"Lee Donghyuck, if you don't stop moving in the next second—"
Your exasperated yell does nothing but fuel his laughter as he ducks away from the frame of your camera, hands shoved in his pockets. Beside you Mark has given up wrangling his bandmate and stands under the cherry blossoms as you take a few stills of him.
All of your group members and theirs are spread around on the mostly empty street behind the SBS Open Hall. Beautiful pale pink flowers shower you with petals at the slightest wind blowing over them.
"Honestly, would it kill you to stand straight for a little bit?" You huff, putting the lens protector back on.
"I already have my whole day being filmed to be put on YouTube. I think I'm fine having a few minutes to myself," he says wittyly, making you pout.
It's not like he's wrong. He's just so infuriatingly correct about everything, and if you weren't such a sucker for capturing these moments, you would have been equally resistant to having a camera shoved in your face all the time.
"Hey, _____? Can I borrow your camera for a bit?" Jaemin's calls make you march over to him, handing over your precious Nikon DSLR with utmost care. Yet, if anything, he's the only one that understands your awe at such a whimsical sight.
You fish your phone from your pocket next, sheepishly approaching Donghyuck as he stares at the bright blue sky dotted with clouds. You can't take your eyes away from his face—from the sunlight peppering his skin in a delicate glow and making it's already lovely colour appear otherworldly; right down to the moles you loved to map constellations on.
Catching yourself before you could be found staring, you clear your throat. "Haechannie, can I please just take one picture? Pretty please?"
His eyebrows quirk up in amusement but he holds out hand towards you. You blink at it owlishly. "Only if we take a selfie together."
You smirk, seizing the golden opportunity to tease. "Oh, you looove me."
Contrary to what you expected—maybe a snarky reply or equal amounts of nonsensical teasing being reciprocated—Donghyuck only pulls you closer by hooking an arm around your waist, plucking petals off your curled hair. "That I do."
Feeling the familiar heat creep up you neck and towards your cheeks, you lower you head. "You're awfully sentimental today."
He scoffs. "What? Like I need a specific day to declare my overflowing feelings for my girlfriend." He pauses for a moment, staring at your dolled up face, a finger coming to press lightly on the gem sticker shaped like a star at the corner of your left eye. "You look really pretty."
You're practically beaming, soaking in this soft side of him you that adore just as much as his dramatics. "Yeah? You look very pretty, too. Now, hold still pretty boy and let me take a picture?"
"I guess one is fine." Donghyuck didn't let it show but you know he is flustered. Avoiding eye contact with such vigor was a telltale sign. You chuckle, going on your tiptoes to press your lips against his cheek, right as you click the shutter button.
Before you could pull back to inspect the product, he grabs the back of your neck, placing his pillowy lips on top of yours and you positively melt against him.
For all it was worth, you ignore the hoots and whistles of your friends to cherish these stolen moments wedged between hectic schedules.
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ask-caine · 5 hours
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ok ok what’s yours and moons love story. Beginning to end
OOC POST
It's a bit of a crazy story, actually!
We originally met online through TADC, when she messaged all the Caine accounts she could find for a shitpost "wedding" thing. We ended up hitting it off and talking about random things for a while. It started with my random fact about Kentucky marriage laws and how a couple used them to get married by cocaine bear (hence the below picture)
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We ended up learning about a shared interest in plague doctors, as well as discussing several very random topics. Anyways, she invited all the Caines to a discord server, and I ended up being the only one who actually showed up. We would end up talking for hours upon hours day after day there. It was genuinely shocking how much we had in common.
At this point, I had been kinda been picking up on some of the flirtatious undertones behind some of the things she was saying, but I wasn't 100% sure about it yet and was still kinda testing the waters. I'd heard the term love at first sight, and looking back on it, that's pretty much what it felt like. I had been developing a crush on her up to this point, and I kept thinking about her as I was getting ready for bed. I had to keep stopping myself from falling head over heels, reminding myself we barely even knew each other and telling myself "no, she's just being nice. Don't be weird, there's nothing behind this, she's just being friendly."
...As it turned out, she wanted to be a little more than friends... Given my feelings up to this point, I was a little overwhelmed when she told me. I had to take a minute to collect my thoughts, to process everything (hence her jokes about me pulling a Caine and running away). But I liked her, too, and was willing to try a long-distance relationship. So, that's what we did.
It was only a few days after we first got together officially that I told her I loved her. It just felt right. Apparently I caught both of us off-guard with it, since she was sure that she'd be the one who would've said it first. ...We both dived in a little too headfirst from there. From my side of things, it was just so exciting and exhilerating to have this feeling I'd been searching for all my life, and I wanted more of it. We took a step back and both agreed to try and take things at a more reasonable pace from here on out.
We ended up learning a lot about each other. It was like we were the same person, split apart and put in two entirely different situations but turning out the same way anyway. ...This similarity became concerning when we realized we both had the same last name, as well as the fact that we both had Scottish ancestry. But, one family search check later, we confirmed that we are not, in fact, related. Just another insane coincidence that further proves that we were made for each other...
We shared a lot with each other. Our interests, hobbies, ideals, feelings on various topics. Our experiences throughout life, good and bad. The darkest parts of us. Every day, we grew closer. There was no denying that there was something special between us.
That isn't to say everything was perfect. We both still had a lot to learn about ourselves and about each other. There were ups and downs. Things were far from easy. There was a lot of avoidable pain both ways. As time went on, we started to become a little more distant...
Eventually, the stress of life and school and worries and everything going on got to be too much, and she called for us to take a break from the relationship. This hurt, of course... But, taking a break and being done are very different things. I was okay with taking a break, since we would still hang out and such sometimes, just not as romantically.
But, that still wasn't enough. Everything continued to be really stressful, and she felt like she wasn't a net positive in my life and was dragging me down (though the truth was exactly the opposite). So, she decided to fully end the relationship. Which... Really hurt me. Badly.
I kind of fell into a depressive state for a while. I had opened myself up like never before, let myself be more vulnerable than at any point in my life. I had finally found love, the one thing I'd truly wanted all my life, the only thing I've ever needed, and then it was just taken right away. The one thing I feared more than anything else in the world had come to pass.
We would still talk occasionally, but not like before. I already hurt so much, and just talking with her without being able to say the love I still felt was torture for me. So, I distanced myself a bit. I dealt with things on my own. I learned a lot about myself as I came to terms with how things had ended up.
Eventually, I started to feel a little more okay. I knew I could never stop loving her, so I decided to try and turn that love from romantic to platonic and still try to be a friend. Because while I may have lost her, she didn't want me out of her life completely. I could make do as just friends.
But, when I started to come back and we started to talk more again, she realized how much she had been missing me while we were apart. She figured out that some of the things she'd been feeling had been more than she'd realized. She learned that she actually was happier when we were together, and that she still really enjoyed being with me.
So, she began to give little hints again, like before. And, again, I picked up on them, but I didn't want to believe them 100% because of how much I'd been hurt last time. I told myself that she was just showing platonic love, the same way I was. Things would never be the same again. They couldn't be. If I was good for her before, she wouldn't have left...
It was actually Randy who got us actually talking again, first on our blogs, and then regarding what we were being sent. This eventually led to us talking just in general, about all sorts of things... Including what had happened between us. It was emotional, but we both came out of it feeling better about things.
That said, it took until this post before I realized she still loved me and that it was okay to love her back, the way I'd been holding in all this time. We had a heartfelt reunion, though we weren't officially dating again just yet. It still took me a while after that to fully accept everything and let down my guard again, after how much I was still hurting from last time...
But I didn't like the feeling of keeping her away. Of having a barrier between us. I desperately craved that deep, personal connection of love with her again. So, I opened my heart up again. And I'm so incredibly grateful that I did.
Soon after that point, Randy showed up and all those shenanigans ensued. But they only managed to get us talking more about things and uniting against it, which actually brought us even closer together. So, I guess if one good thing's come out of that dumpster fire of stress and stupidity, it's that.
Things have been absolutely wonderful since we got back together. We both learned a lot about ourselves in our time apart, and things have been much better between us. The rocky, uncertain road from before the break had smoothed over. And we fell so much deeper in love the second time.
Add in the stress of the past several weeks, with all the Tumblr drama with these blogs and the hiatus and everything (which I'm not getting into because you can see all that for yourself by looking through our blogs), and you're caught up to the present day. Life is still very stressful for us both, but a lot less so than when we first got together. We understand ourselves and each other so much better, which helps us make less mistakes and treat each other more tenderly and personally in the ways that we need most.
As for the future, immediately after finishing school, I plan to find work and save up to visit her in Canada sometime in the summer. After that is a little hazy at the moment, but we'll figure out our lives and put together a plan to find stable jobs and create a good life for ourselves up there.
And that's it, that's our story. From when we met all the way to the present day. You said beginning to end, but I'm afraid there is no end to our love. The story's still being written. Our lives are still being lived. I hope to be able to add to this years into the future, when we're living together and when we start our own family. But it might still take a while to reach that point.
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sleepyangelkami · 1 day
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BRO I NEEDDD MORE OF PERVERTED!!!! OMG LIKE YOUR MIND>>>>>
PERVERTED III (c.g)
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a/n: the long, the awaited, part three.
pairing: carl grimes x fem!reader
summary: after the perverted thoughts consume carl whole, he realises he needs to act on them and soon finds out that you need him to act on them just as badly.
warnings: smut, heavy innocence kink, corruption kink, pervert!carl, fingering, dom!carl, sub!reader, size kink, pussy eating, cum eating, aged up characters, thigh riding-ish, manipulative carl, praise kink, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🤎
words: 3,639
series masterlist
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after that night in your bedroom, carl was downright desperate.
he realised that he needed to act upon his thoughts before it drove him over the edge of insanity. but there you were, prancing around in your little skirts and dresses, ditzy as ever. how was he ever supposed to explain his need to you?
that was just it, he was going to have to show you.
carl had been your best friend for a long time. you could trust him with anything in the world and carl would know if you'd ever done anything. that was the beauty in it. your innocence was bliss.
you were so innocent to the corrupt minds around you, not a single notion of the horrid thoughts of others. not a clue in your mind of just what carl wanted to do to you. no what he needed to do to you.
he knew he was going to have to ease you into it.
the first time carl had let you feel anything was during a rainy night of alexandria. the clouds were dull and full, slapping down on the outside windows. rick and michonne were on yet another supply run, no surprise there, and you and carl had been put in charge of taking care of judith.
it wasn't until she had been laid down asleep in bed that carl began to shift his mind back to you.
the clouds dulled until they were long gone. the night sky had settled in.
the tv displaying pretty images illuminated the room as you sat on carl's lap. when he'd asked if you'd like to sit there, it came as no surprise. you'd sat on carl's lap tonnes of times. whether it was just you two alone, sitting on the bed or perhaps you were in public, choosing to sit on his thigh rather than the bench occupied by the others.
however, what you didn't know was carl had much more in store for you than just watching the stupid movie that was playing.
you were engrossed in the flashing pictures, watching as each changed to another. you were the type of person to pay all your attention to one thing at a time, finding it hard to focus on more than one.
that was when your attention shifted.
it was a mere, 'innocent', bounce of carl's knee.
he did it as some sort of a test. he'd waited until you were so interested in the movie to do it. your two thighs had splayed at either side of his own. he'd waited until your cunt was snug on the jeans of his leg to rub it gently against you.
and by the sudden breath that left your lips, he deemed that you were almost as satisfied as he was.
nevertheless, you shook the feeling. you assumed the boy beneath you was merely trying to get comfortable so you tried to do the same, writhing yourself in the slightest.
that was when the smallest of whimpers left your mouth. with wide eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, hoping carl hadn't heard. "you okay?" he spoke softly in your ear, alerting you that he had heard.
only, you weren't trying to do anything wrong. like i said, you'd sat on carl's lap tonnes of times. but this time seemed... different. you were suddenly hyper aware of your skirt that was riding up ever so slightly and the way that fixing your position on his leg felt... good?
being in an apocalypse and all, you never really got too much education on... down there.
that was what carl was for, you supposed. he was basically your teacher in everything, any question you had went directly to him.
but what you did know was that parts like that were private and not to be shared. which is why you merely let out a small 'mhm' to indicate that you were, in fact, okay.
"alright." he mumbled back, his voice low as if not to disturb the serenity of the room.
you let a breath out, relaxing once more onto his leg.
carl knew he could have stopped there, letting you be all confused for the rest of the evening on just what that feeling you had was. but he didn't know how much you'd taken in, he needed to make sure that the feeling you felt was going to stick.
which was why he waited mere seconds before bouncing his leg again, like a kid in class riddled with ADHD.
you'd seen carl bouncing his leg like a maniac many times before. he'd do it under a table when he was nervous or angry or anything really. he often cracked his knuckles even when there was no air left to crack and shook his legs like there was no tomorrow. carl was always moving.
so how could you tell him to stop?
what would you even say?
did you even want him to stop?
there was an odd feeling in your stomach as he continued to bounce his leg up and down, hitting smoothly against your covered area. your breathing picked up but you did everything in your will to steady it.
some called carl grimes an ADD nightmare, this was a normal thing for him.
why was it suddenly not so normal for you?
perhaps it was the way his chin gently rested on your shoulder, gentle breath hitting against your neck or the way his hands soothed around your waist, his own calloused hands against your gentle skin where your satin dress lay on top.
the skirt of your dress bounced with every bounce of his leg too, exposing more of your thighs with each steady movement.
he was calculating and gentle, as if he knew you were becoming dizzy.
your throat itched too. you couldn't fathom why though you had a feeling it was a noise trying to crawl out.
you couldn't so much as stop yourself before your hands outstretched onto his thigh, stopping his movements.
he did so with the slightest smirk on his lips, knowing he'd gotten you exactly where you wanted. the way your thighs gently shook around him, you wouldn't so much as turn around. oh yes, you'd definitely felt it.
before he could question you in that gentle, condescending tone, the front door could be heard unlocking.
"gotta get my jacket." was the mumble that fell from your mouth as you helped yourself off of the boy's leg, grasping the pretty coat that sat on the other couch, where you'd originally been sitting. carl got up too, glancing down to his thigh. it was a wonder that there wasn't a large wet splotch on his jeans.
shortly after, rick and michonne entered the house, looking tired as ever. they asked a couple questions about judith, making sure you'd both been taking care of her right before they found themselves stating that they were heading up to bed.
carl gave somewhat of a disgusted look to the way they were looking at eachother. he din't even want to imagine what they'd be getting up to the minute they stepped into the bedroom.
"you sure you don't wanna stay the night?" he questioned, walking you to the front door of his home. you didn't live too far away which was the only reason he was letting you walk out in the dark alone. with his luck, he'd see you getting settled into your house while he still stood at the door.
you looked up at him with slightly wide eyes, you looked a little dazed. your hands were holding eachother behind your back, ignoring the feeling throbbing through your cunt. how had he done something so simple and left you feeling like this? "mhm." you hummed.
he gave you a look. "and you're positive you're okay?" tilting his head. "you seem a little off." he knew exactly why you were off.
but you weren't going to let anything on. "no, i'm okay." nodding your head, trying to convince both him and yourself.
"you know you can talk to me about anything, right baby?" he stepped forward, his words a little quieter as he spoke to you. his eyes flickered down to your bottom lip between your top teeth. "anything at all..."
you looked like you were contemplating, unsure if it was exactly appropriate to share with anyone even if it was just your best friend.
though your eyes quickly turned back to rick who was now standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water. "I'm okay." you quickly quipped.
rick turned around, swallowing the water. "you off, y/n?" you nodded, swallowing thickly. "right, night then, and thanks again for watching judith."
"anytime." you mumbled back, eyes flickering up to carl. "g'night, carl."
"night, angel." and so, you left.
the sky rose just as soon as it had gone down. carl hadn't steadied his movements since. hours passed, merging into days and carl was getting braver by the second. he couldn't help it, you were like putty, just so easy to mold.
by the time the saturday sleepover rolled around again, the boy was near ecstatic.
he'd gotten you exactly where he wanted in many ways, with little fluttering touches and words whispered gently, that could have been taken in any way. but he must say, his favourite place to have you was sat atop his thigh, gently bumping against it as he shook it from the ground.
he did it again now, maggie and glenn were long gone on yet another supply run, stocking up on the foods. they wouldn't be home until the next morning, possibly the morning after that.
but there simply wasn't anything else carl could think about other than the girl sat perched on his thigh. your hands were near your stomach, fiddling with themseleves, pulling on your fingers gently, contemplating.
carl didn't stop the bounce of his knee, moving it so accurately that you could feel a pool forming in your panties. you'd never felt like this before. and you were sure that carl knew this too.
this was the longest he'd ever done it, he should have stopped ages ago, knowing he didn't wish to push you too far. however, your little shaky breaths had his head spinning, he couldn't stop, not now.
you were contemplating asking him to stop. something about his shaking leg beneath you had you feeling awfully funny. but you couldn't decipher if it was a good feeling or not. besides, you couldn't understand why it was that his moving leg had your head feeling dizzy.
"carl?" your mouth got the better of you. it was supposed to come out as a steady question, voice stable, however, it came out more breathless than you'd intended, a slight whine to the back of your throat.
carl's hands had gently been resting against your waist. "hm?" he took the hint to stop, though.
beneath you, his leg froze.
your mind went sort of fuzzy then, that was when you realised it had, in fact, been a good feeling. your mind raced back to moments ago when the wet patch was forming on your satin panties. you couldn't even register what was going on before you slid yourself against his leg, not once, not even twice.
"sweetheart?" his voice was soft, calculated. it had you realising what you were doing, but still, your aching cunt dragged across his jeaned leg. "what're you doing? hm?"
a breath fell from your lips. you gently willed yourself to stop your movements before turning your face to the boy. you had pinched brows, lips bitten, desperation written all over your face. "carl, i―" the words left had you frowning.
carl merely rubbed his fingers against your waist. "somethin' wrong?" he questioned softly. "'s just me, you can tell me, baby."
and suddenly, it was your last straw.
but carl had already known that.
he'd moved his hands so gently around you for the past week, bounced you against his thigh every chance he got and whispered meak things to you, calling you such pretty names. he knew sooner or later you were bound to snap.
"you..." you let out a sigh, eyes avoiding the boy. "you can't laugh."
without a second thought, carl's fingers hooked themselves beneath your chin, angling your face up and forcing you to look at him. "'m not gonna laugh at you, angel." and his comforting features looked as though they were telling nothing but the truth. "jus' tell me what's going on."
you sighed, trying to avert your eyes. "everytime you bounce your leg... it feels funny." you tried to keep your voice as low as possible, throat closing and your cheeks heating up. it was hard trying to keep your composure in font of him, especially when talking about such a private thing.
"yeah?" seemingly unfazed by what you'd told him. "where's it feel funny?" again, your cheeks heated up, only this time you were sure that you were as red as a tomato. "baby, i can't help you if you don't tell me."
and you were sure you needed his help. after all, he was the only one that had made you feel so... worked up. instead of uttering a word, you practically whined before pushing your head into his shirt covered chest. you grasped his hand, sucking in as you guided it downwards.
carl couldn't help but smirk as you moved his hand to cup your shorts-covered cunt. you whimpered at the touch of his hand, quickly moving your own away, as if scared you were going to mess something up.
carl placed his palm against the pale shorts, his thumb moving up towards your clit and gently drawing circles. you whined loudly. "here's where it feels funny, huh?" you nodded your head quickly, breaths falling ragged as his gentle, tight circles moved against your clit. "y'gonna answer me?"
"y-yes." coming out as more of a moan rather than an answer. you were suddenly thankful that maggie and glenn were nowhere to be found in the house.
there was a sudden smile splayed on his lips. "good girl." he mumbled, sending electric shocks through your body and right down to your aching pussy. you couldn't understand how two simple words were enough to have you rutting your hips against the boys hands.
though instantly, your face heated again. embarrassment flooded you as you realised what was happening, stinging tears finding it's way to your eyes. "carl." you spluttered out, whimpering as you did so. carl merely shushed you, his free hand coming down to land on the back of your hair, holding your head close to it's place on his chest.
"wh's wrong, baby?" he waited for a response, all you could give him was a second whimper. "want me to stop?"
"no!" was your much too enthusiastic response that had his lips curving upwards. so you did want it as much as he did. "no, please don't stop."
"then tell me what you want." you shied away, cheeks evidently rosy and pink. but you didn't utter a word, much too sheepish.
suddenly, the feeling he was giving to your clit completely stopped. his hand still hung low but they didn't touch you. the whine you let out had your eyes turning glassy. he reminded you that he'd asked you to tell him what you wanted. but you could barely hear his voice now, mind too clouded with the previous pleasure. "f-felt..." your own hand attempted to replace his, rubbing at your covered cunt but it didn't give you the pleasure his had.
you felt his hand reach up and snap your wrist between his fingers, stopping your movements. "you wanna feel good, huh?" you nodded your head, tears stinging. "then the only hands that get to touch you are mine, understood?" you nodded before he squeezed on your wrist, not hard enough to hurt. "understood?"
"yes." was the breathless word as his fingers let go of your wrist.
"now, tell me what you want." almost instantly, his stern voice had disappeared and turned into one of softness again. it was almost scary how quickly he could turn from one demeanour to another. but you were much too hazy now to question anything.
you breathed heavily, cheeks warm. but carl just waited, his eyes looking at you full of admiration, a stark contrast to the stern look he'd had before. "i want..." he waited, not rushing you, patiently. "want you to make me feel good." your voice was so quiet, so small and you were looking anywhere but his face. you thought it was somewhat awkward in a sense, more scary really. he'd shrug it off for your natural shyness that simply never went away.
"see?" his voice gentle and loving. "wasn't hard, was it?" you shook your head no despite it being the hardest thing you'd done all year. "now get onto your back, angel." you did what he said, not wishing to disappoint him. he followed by climbing on top of you, watching your doe eyes slightly widen.
a breath.
he was so close, lips practically brushing against your own. you'd known carl a very long time but you were sure this was the closest he'd ever been. "'m gonna kiss you, okay?" you nodded, slightly unsure. you'd never been kissed before and you had no idea that it related to the feeling that you'd felt earlier. "it'll all make sense in a second, sweetheart." he mumbled, hands on your waist. "just... relax."
and suddenly, his lips were on yours.
his lips were even softer than they looked. and if that was what you thought of his lips, you could only imagine what he thought of yours. he kissed you gently, open mouthed kissing with his tongue slipping past yours.
now you understood.
it definitely related to the feeling.
as he was kissing you, you had the sudden urge to roll your hips upwards, into his own. carl had this way of making you feel so comfortable that you didn't have to worry the outcome. so you did. rolling your hips gently yet desperately.
you felt him let out a harsher breath into your mouth. his lips moved from your mouth. you felt him press a kiss to the corner of your lips, then to your chin and down to your neck. the feeling of him sucking against the supple skin had a whimper falling from your lips, then another and a long stretched whine.
his lips moved away and his tongue soothed down the hurt skin.
you supposed, you knew what sex was. it was an intimate form of love on your partner. was that what you and carl were going to do? sex? carl wasn't your boyfriend but he was the only one in the entire world you'd felt such a connection to. you supposed, if anyone was to have sex with you, it may as well be carl grimes.
"sweetheart." he breathed against your neck. "keep making sounds like that 'n i won't be able to last." to last? for what?
you didn't even care what he was saying, just the sound of his voice was enough to have you reeling. "carl, please just..."
"shh." he hushed you, practically cooing. "s'needy." before his hands moved back down towards your shorts. "can i take this off?" though he wasn't just grasping the band of your shorts but of your panties too. however, you couldn't seem to care. nodding enthusiastically before helping him guide the material off your body.
carl's breath hitched in his throat. he'd seen you before, he'd seen you when you were sleeping and he plunged a finger inside you, tasted you even. even so, it was like seeing you for the first time all over again.
he could see you red as a tomato above him, covering your face. you'd known carl forever, but something about being nude with him over you on your couch seemed like something a best friend shouldn't do. carl didn't allow the shyness to continue, peppering gentle kisses across the skin of your face. "hey, hey." gently removing your hands. "you're beautiful."
your hands suddenly pawed at the end of his shirt. if you were going to be bare, he should too, right? "can you..?"
"wan't me to take of my shirt, baby?" you only nodded, pressing your lips together. he nodded himself before placing his hands at the end of his shirt, bringing it up and above his head, tossing it off the couch. "your turn." he mumbled, pressing kisses to your neck before grasping the bottom of your own shirt. you allowed him to pull it over your own head.
it was no surprise that there was no bra found underneath, your perky tits bouncing gently. he moved his lips downwards, sucking on one and grasping the other between his fingers, flicking over your pretty nipple. you whined, back arching off the couch and hands finding his hair, tugging at the strands.
his lips popped over your nipple, letting go with a string of spit attatching the two of you. he pushed his large hand onto your chest, thumb at one end of your tits and other fingers at the other, pushing them together. you were so small compared to him, it had his own mind reeling. "so fucking pretty."
"carl." there was desperation in his eyes. the amount of times you had uttered his name would have made anyone think you were reciting it as if he were god himself. "need you." you didn't even know what you meant yourself. all you did know was that you needed him, in whatever way possible.
"i know, pretty girl." his fingers traced your cheek, cupping it ever so softly. "'m gonna touch you, okay?"
nervously, you found yourself nodding. you knew by him touching you, the ache would go away. how you knew that, you were unsure. perhaps it was because you put so much trust in carl to do what was right.
you expected the soft flutter of his long fingers, the gentle tracing of the pads against your skin. what you hadn't been expecting was the mouth that suddenly landed on your core.
as if on cue, your back arched against the couch once more. a moan of both surprise and pleasure fell from your lips. you felt the vibrations of a chuckle throughout your body, from him. he'd been waiting for this moment for too long to let it slip from his fingers.
the foreign feeling of a face between your thighs had you writhing. you allowed his tongue to explore your cunt, whining and whimpering while your hands clung to his hair, overcome with a foreign pleasure.
never, had you felt this good in your entire life.
an eerie sense was embedded right in your stomach, telling you that this was all wrong. the feelings you felt and the way his hands moved against your body, it had to be wrong. but the pleasure of his tongue lapping against your cunt told you that no matter how hard he tried, nothing carl could do would ever be wrong.
you felt him insert a finger into your hole and you were sure you'd lost it.
"carl!" you moaned out, unsure what words to use. "carl―nughhh!" no words could grasp your tongue signifying how good it felt.
your wetness seeped onto his tongue, decorating it with your pretty juices, and his finger had a rim of white surrounding it, belonging to you. his face moved up from your pussy, glancing to your own face. your head was thrown back, eyes shut and reflection twisted. "i know, baby." pumping his finger in and out of you in quick motions. "feels good, huh?"
you nodded your head, babbling incoherently despite the fact that carl couldn't make out a single word you said. he nodded with a smirk, anyway.
this was so much better now that you were awake.
"uh huh?" he was practically testing you, your moans coming out strangled and harsh. "yeah, told you i'd fix it, huh?"
and boy, did he fix it.
the sensation grew and you began to get a sudden knotted feeling in your stomach. it was foreign, new and strange. but despite that, you were sure you'd felt it before. perhaps in a dream? one of which carl had remembered all too well.
a sudden panicked state came over you. "carl" you babbled out, a hint of worry in your voice.
carl placed his free hand on your thigh, gently rubbing against it and shushing you. "shh, shh, you can take it." his mouth travelling back to where you needed him the most.
you couldn't even give him a warning.
the orgasm fell over you before you could even register what was happening. your back practically lept from the couch, good thing carl's hand had been keeping your stomach steady against the material. mewls fell from your lips, shameful mewls that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
your legs shook from around his head, his name falling from your red and swollen lips like a prayer, fingers tight around his little curls.
finally, his head reappeared from it's place between your thighs, a grin on his face.
your eyes were low, sort of red. and he swore it was the prettiest sight he'd ever seen.
"feel good, huh?" pride on his smug face. he came up to meet your own by the arm of the couch, hand moving your hair past your ear.
you had this sinking, gnawing feeling as you glanced up at him. "but... what about you?" thinking that surely couldn't have made him feel good. you'd never experienced pleasure like that before, you were sure everyone in the world should get to experience it at least once.
"don't worry about me, sweet girl." peppering gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. "next time." he spoke despite his hand moving against his dick, straightening it out after his own cum leaked through his jeans.
he came in his pants because of you. again.
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main masterlist/carl's masterlist
a/n: this was not my best work, sorry guys!!
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erwinsvow · 6 hours
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i feel like pogue!reader with rafe would have an interesting dynamic with barry. like, he doesn’t particularly like her - knowing her connection with the pogues, especially jj but at the same time he’s dealing with rafe and pogues as a collective have gotta stick together. he’s also just morbidly curious about how she and country club have became a thing.
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barry laughs when he sees you walking into his place, attached to rafe's side.
"ain't that-"
"that's my fuckin' girl. so watch your mouth." rafe cuts him off before he can finish the rest of his sentence, which is sure to have something to do with the fact that the few times barry's seen you before, you've been with the pogues that rafe supposedly hates so much.
"your girl? is that right? well, pleasure to meet you again, m'barry-"
you look up hesitantly at rafe, wondering if you should say something back, and you briefly reflect for a moment just how different things used to be. with your best friends, with jj and john b and pope at your side, the group of you would go and make yourselves comfortable anywhere. they'd charm their way into the good graces of the host and you never felt like you couldn't just speak your mind.
rafe is different. you don't know if it's bad, if he's bad for you, or not. talking to someone when you know he doesn't want you to feels wrong, feels bad. and you like him taking lead, him showing you the way and calling all the shots.
so you smile at barry but don't engage, looking up at your boyfriend instead. he looks down at you for a second, but you can tell you did the right thing.
"sit down and shut up. c'mon, we got shit to discuss."
"tells me to sit down. in my own fuckin' house. i gotta tell you princess, you picked a real winner here in rafey boy-"
"did y'not hear the shut up part?"
a laugh escapes, though you try to keep it quiet. they go on discussing something that doesn't mean much to you, while you go on your phone and text your friends. rafe's phone rings, and he just steps away for a minute to answer. barry doesn't hesitate a second to get the answers he needs from you.
"so. you and country club. how long's that been goin' on?"
"um, a couple months."
"your boys know 'bout him?" you bite your cheek. they don't, yet.
"not yet. but, soon, i guess. waiting for the right time.." you mumble, playing with a loose stitch on your skirt.
"yeah. i'd get on that. not gonna be too happy, are they?"
"maybe."
"don't they hate your boy as much as he hates them? ain't that.. awkward?"
you think you should be offended by the line of questioning, but rafe talks about barry often enough for you to know that he's not a snitch, that he doesn't care. he's just curious.
and he should be. up until a few months ago, you were never seen without your boys, as barry put it. you used to be attached to jj's arm, permanent passenger princess in pope's truck and the twinkie. it all feels like a lifetime ago.
"i'm hoping we can all make amends," you finish softly, fresh waves of guilt washing through your body. it burns where it goes, a stinging similar to what your friends are gonna feel soon, when they find out you've been dating the boy who's been terrorizing them.
"for your sake, i hope so too."
"what're you two talkin' about?" rafe asks, coming back inside and taking his place next to you. he puts his hand on your knee, brings you in close without having to ask.
you hope it's all going to be worth it.
"nothing."
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beenbaanbuun · 17 hours
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Hey!! I just read your most recent Addams!MATZ fic and the angst is DELICIOUS. Your talent for writing is incredible and your creativity really shines through with each and every fic. The fluff, angst, and even the smut are so wonderfully well done, you're one of my favorite ATEEZ writers.
If you're up to it, and feel free to ignore this, but I'd love to see a part two to the angst Addams!MATZ where seonghwa talks to hongjoong and hongjoong comes to apologize. If that's not something you see yourself continuing, I completely understand!
Make sure to keep yourself healthy and hydrated and get plenty of rest.
thank you for the compliments!!! they mean the world to me. i’m glad that my passion for writing and my love for these boys shines through in my work. here is a continuation <333
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seonghwa doesn’t even bother to knock before barging into his husbands office. yes, he thinks anger is an ugly emotion, but that doesn’t mean he is immune to it. in fact, it’s the only thing running through him as he steps through the doorway and slams the heavy slab of oak behind him. hongjoong hasn’t shown you the courtesy of being polite; why should seonghwa show his husband the same.
upon hearing the bang of the door, the overworked businessman turns around, pen still in hand and glasses low on his nose. he was half expecting to see your feisty little self again, but instead he’s met with the sight of his husband. if it weren’t for the sneer that twisted up his husbands pretty face, he might’ve explained the same thing he’d tried explaining to you. something tells him that seonghwa wouldn’t have appreciated being told ‘i’m busy, i’ll come and talk to you when i’m finished designing these pieces.’
“what’s wr—” hongjoong doesn’t even get to finish before seonghwa cuts him off with a scoff and a petty roll of the eyes. it’s hardly like him to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and yet hongjoong can see each one of them clear as day. hurt, anger, disappointment; emotions that he never wants anyone he cares about to feel. his heart sinks just a touch as he realises who those emotions are aimed towards.
“you are a piece of work, hongjoong,” seonghwa spits, sounding beautiful even with venom laced through his voice. hongjoong knows that’s the last thing he should be thinking right now, but he can hardly help admiring his husband, even when he is seething. it takes the man a second or two to knock himself free of the love-induced haze and allow the words to sink in. “do you think you’re in the right for yelling at our darling? do you think that just because you’re overworking yourself it gives you the right to make her cry?”
hongjoong’s world comes to a standstill. the clock on the wall stops ticking, the heart in his chest stops beating, and most importantly, for the first time in weeks, the brain in his head stops thinking. finally, finally, it’s no longer filled with a myriad of complex ideas, each one overlapping yet individual in its own right. finally he just has one singular thought. it’s just a shame it isn’t a good one.
he made you cry…
hongjoong made you cry…
it repeats in his head, over and over like a mantra. it taunts him, the idea that he’d upset you so much feeling like nails on a chalkboard. his hairs stand on end and his breath catches in his throat. lord below, what has he done.
“where is she?” his voice is weak, pathetic, nothing like he usually sounds. seonghwa has to admit that his resolve takes a hit when he hears it leave his loves mouth. he reminds himself to remain strong; your pain is his priority right now. “seonghwa, please—”
“take a guess, hongjoong,” seonghwa replies, once again cutting his husband off. this time it wasn’t out of anger but of fear that he might cave if he has to listen to hongjoong’s heartbroken pleas for much longer. the pained look on his face is enough to send seonghwa’s heart into overdrive; he doesn’t need any more distractions from the real reason he’s here. “where might you usually find her when she isn’t with one of us?”
the rug in front of the fire—jongho.
hongjoong almost feels ashamed that he even had to ask; he should’ve realised the second you silently left his office that you’d gone to seek comfort in your favourite onikuma. realistically, though, he should’ve realised a lot of things. it hurts him to know that he was too focused on work to do so.
he stands, and he’s grateful when seonghwa shifts to the side to allow him past, even going as far as to re-open the heavy door for him. hongjoong isn’t quite sure he deserves the soft hand that’s placed against his back as he walks through the doorway, but he appreciates it nonetheless. now isn’t the time to be wondering how he ended up with such a beautiful individual as a soulmate, but he finds himself lingering on that thought as the two of them begin their journey to the living room. it’s hard not to when the warmth of seonghwa’s touch never once leaves him.
in fact, it’s only when the two of them step through the archway that seonghwa gives a small shove to the bottom of hongjoong’s spine before going to reclaim his spot on the couch. with a single nod in your direction, seonghwa redirects his husband’s attention and hongjoong lets his gaze flicker to the floor.
the first thing he’s met with is a glare from the mutt he’d been so reluctant to allow into his abode. normally, the beast would be scolded for being so bold as to openly disrespect his master, but he let it slide this time. he can hardly tell him not to give him the attitude he so clearly deserves. in fact, this is light compared to what he would’ve expected from the overprotective creature.
at least hongjoong knows he’ll make a wonderful guard dog…
“dove,” hongjoong coos softly as he dips down to your level. he can’t remember the last time he’d sat on the floor, but this feels necessary. the closeness is something that he finds himself craving, wanting nothing more than to have you next to him again. he won’t lie and claim that the sole purpose of this is to comfort you; he needs it too, to stave off the guilt that has begun to eat him alive. “can you look at me?”
there’s a certain element of pain in his voice that tells you he’s being sincere. that he truly does feel remorse for how he treated you. whether or not it’s seonghwa that forced it upon him, you don’t particularly care. all you want is to feel hongjoong’s warmth again, so you listen. you turn your head until your watery eyes meet his.
“there she is,” he gives you a humourless chuckle, a sad smile twisting the corners of his mouth up and the corners of his eyebrows down. the warmth of his hand as he places it on your cheek is comforting; more so than any words he could say. you just need him close. he seems to realise that as he turns to the werewolf, dangerously aware of the way his ears twitch angrily above his head. “may i take her, yeosang? i promise i’ll be gentle with her.”
“you weren’t gentle with her earlier,” yeosang growls, behaving more akin to what hongjoong expects from him. it almost has hongjoong flinching back in fear of yet another bite-shaped bruise on his hand.
“that’s true, but i would like i make it up to her,” hongjoong is soft as he speaks, less so for the sake of the angry mutt, and more for the sake of you. he doesn’t want you to see any more anger from him. “besides i really think it should be my little dove’s decision as to whether i get to hold her, don’t you?” yeosang snarls, huffing in dismay as he unravels his arms from you and lets hongjoong swoop you into his. manipulation never really has been the man’s style, but he has to admit that it works wonders with the mutt. use you as leverage, and yeosang will behave like a fully trained lapdog. he’s just like them in that respect; so desperate to make you happy that they’d risk everything, dignity included.
it’s not hard for you to let yourself be passed around like some kind of teddy bear as a pose to a real, living human. you’re tired from crying, not to mention desperate for the confirmation that you’re still hongjoong’s good girl. in fact, as hongjoong tugs you into his grasp like a rag doll, you find yourself leaning into his grasp. it’s so soft compared to his sharp words and cutting tone earlier, and his familiar scent of spices fills your nostrils. it dizzies you, but hongjoong is there to catch you…
“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear as he pulls you up to straddle his crossed legs, “my darling dove, will you forgive me?”
you don’t answer. you don’t find it necessary to. the way you see it there’s nothing to forgive; you annoyed him, he yelled at you. it’s give and take, and despite your emotions getting the better of you, you refuse to place the blame on hongjoong. not all of it, at least.
“only if you forgive me too,” is the answer you finally settle on, mumbling it into his neck. he squirms a little at the tickling sensation, and in your own mind, you find yourself thinking he’s cute.
“you have nothing to forgive, my dove,” he answers, “but if it will make you forgive me, then yes; i forgive you…”
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fallenneziah · 12 hours
Note
Hello I saw your Alpha Ghost x Omega reader fics and I was wondering what if reader was an alpha and Ghost was the Omega
(If you can make reader a timber wolf and make it fluff no smut)
Aw, I love making these things. You'll get all the fluff.
Alpha!Reader x Omega!Ghost
Omega!Ghost who actually was very sheltered about telling people he was an Omega. He didn't tell anyone for a long time and went through years just to try and hide it.
Omega!Ghost who after being captured and held by Roba couldn't help seeing his body as nothing but an object, wanting to hide it more.
The generational shame that came with being an Omega and wanting to hide himself continued for many years that he was like this.
Alpha!Reader whose distinct senses and abilities made them a prime recruit for the military. Joining without incident and pushing through rank.
Omega!Ghost whose been used to hiding so long the feelings he's attempted to keep dormant deep down bubble back up slowly when he sees you.
Your capable, your strong, your scent hits his nose and it's like his knees are weak and he can't get enough.
Alpha!Reader who sees the big lieutenant and it's honestly scary to see him looming and watching you. He's an alpha probably, making sure you don't cause shit for the others.
Alpha!Reader and omega!Ghost don't get too close yet, Ghosts intense heat blockers keep most of his identity a mystery. If anyone got so close as to figure it out that was an accomplishment.
Alpha!reader who starts trying to prove themselves for the alpha watching every day.
Price can only laugh, looking over at Ghost whose watching behind the mask with the lovesick eyes of a puppy finding a new owner. "Do they know?"
"No."
Price looks back at you, flexing your hardest and trying your best to impress. "Didn't think so."
Omega!Ghost who is relishing the attention. He knows you're showing off for him, and whether he will admit it or not, he likes it. He enjoys watching you flex your muscles and show off the wolfish side of yourself.
This gander goes on for a while between the two. Ghost watches as he feels that Omega inside him purrs and leaps. Like a cat awake from a nap ready to stretch its back legs and take off.
Alpha!reader who's tired, a day of showing off to the man who won't even speak to you. They head back to their common area and whose there?
Omega!Ghost whose finding that his omega is much more prone to cuddling than he remembered. Snuggled up in a blanket watching whatever was on tv.
"Sir, lieutenant." You attempted to greet casually as you sat down. The taste of peppermint and lemon citrus. The scent makes your stomach twist and your head whip around.
Omega!Ghost who could care less hunkered in his blanket like a turtle poking his head from his shell while your instincts stir and confusion sets in.
Ghost is very used to your scent because he smelled it first. But as you smell this new smell you realize it's coming from him.
Alpha!reader who realizes the man you've wanted to impress all this time has been an omega. Which, honestly? Not a bad thing. Not at all.
Omega!Ghost smells your growing scent, looking over at you. Your scent swarms the room like a thick cloud. And you look over at him. His pupils expand and close, as if trying to resist relaxing into the presence.
Alpha!Reader who lets the scent fill the air and swarm his nose. You smell of woods, fresh dirt and the familiar smell of a mutt wet from the river.
"You think this is that easy?" He asks curiously as he flips through his book.
You watch his fluid motions, seeing the way his fingers grasp so gently at the pages. You look at his face, seeing his beautiful lashes casting over his brown eyes.
"I didn't realize I'd have to be chasing you.."
"Does that turn you off??" He asks, and looks to you briefly.
Your canines show behind a smile. You reach your hand over and rub his thigh, feeling the muscle tense under the subtle touch. "No, no it doesn't at all." You reply, moving boldly closer to him.
Omega!Ghost usually didn't let people into his space, but hell, you'd worked your ass off for it. "Mm." He replied and you snuggled up to him, your hand drifting around his lap to capture his waist. When that didn't make him move, you nuzzled his scent glands, shifting his mask and giving them an experimental lick.
Ghost jumped, his cheeks going bright red. "That's enough you- mutt."
"Ouch, Ghost... You like it."
Alpha!Reader who proceeds to gently groom Ghost. Ghost hadn't ever been groomed before. Maybe the occasions head scratches from Price but this was... So much different.
Omega!Ghost who can't help whining for your attention and affections. His resolve is slowly crumbling beneath him as your smell is the tip of the treat. He's held it off as long as he could, now he just needs the experience he's missed out on from people he can trust.
Alpha!Reader doesn't pull his mask up too high, but enough to lick and kiss around his neck and shoulders. There was no intention of lust behind them, merely to help his shoulders relax with warm, sweet lips tending to them.
Omega!Ghost who sinks into it, nuzzling against you. Every instinct in his body he'd pushed down for years over years pooling out in an instant. His trust issues scream at him, and he partly pulls away. "Keep your hands where I can see them... Mutt." He mumbled, attempting to make it clear where his line drew.
Alpha!Reader who fits him in their arms, nuzzling him. As any wolf would, you continued to groom him. "I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want." Ghost is completely lax. Whatever you did... Fuck you did it right.
Something felt so... New. It felt like your arms were a barrier between him and everything else. Your arms kept him safe, your scent, your presence, this was safety.
Alpha!reader who watches his eyes so effortlessly flutter closed. They nudge his cheek and press a quick kiss to the mask, feeling their heart jump for joy.
"We'll take it slow ... But I think I've found what makes you tick." You chuckle, seeing him fully blissed out, getting a mere taste of what true safety feels like. After years of hiding, worrying and screaming. You've given him just a smidge of what he could have with you.
Safety and companionship.
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dancingmonbelum · 13 hours
Text
simon x gn!reader
cw // deaf reader, simon being ableist, mention of hearing loss/deaf, simon being toxic.
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Communicating was hard enough for Simon, given that he wasn't a very social person. One was sufficient; two were demanding; and three were exhausting. Although that much was forgotten when he met you, the only person who was patient enough to crack that wall– allowing him to open up even to the smallest details of his life.
As time went by, the accumulated words he had said to you was greater than to anyone he had even knew in his whole life. That alone showed just how much he appreciated being heard by you, he never knew his words– his life, could be so interesting to someone to elate excitement and adoration.
But, the house– once full of spoken tales was quieted down when you found out that you're experiencing hearing loss. To the point that you could lose it forever. From there, Simon would find his words falling on deaf ears and him having to constantly repeat everything to you. Not just once– sometimes twice, and on special occasion, thrice. This moment was no exception to that problem.
"Sorry, Si, what was it?"
Silence erupted between them after the second time Simon had already repeated himself.
"Nevermind. You taken your meds yet?"
"Oh– right, let me do that right now." You went to grab the bag of medications on the nightstand that Simon had carefully prepared for you this week. But, seeing the bag untouched only made Simon sighed in response, your carelessness to this whole thing– It baffled him. 'It's like getting better was not important', he always thought to himself.
"You keep forgetting to take it."
The way you nodded to acknowledge your constant mistake ignited a flame of anger in Simon's heart– letting out a deeper sigh, calming himself in attempt of not letting it spread to his head and blow up.
"Oh, well... you know me, Si. Thank goodness I have you to remind me." You chuckled to your own words, earning a loud grumble from Simon about how it's careless to forget about things like this.
In attempt of downplaying your mistake, you avoided his glaring eyes. Hoping that he'd let it slide, again. But, it didn't work this time.
"Just– please, why're you not taking this seriously? It's like you want to go deaf." He dramatically flailed his arms around, before they made its way to tug on his hair in frustration. You don't want to believe the words he's saying right now, because you swear nothing had been this crystal clear to you since you lost your hearing.
"It's always 'can you repeat that?' with you. Why do I have to keep repeating things?"
His words would only grow harsher, and you knew you had to stop it before it worsen. But, there was no stopping Simon as he stood up from the bed and turned around abruptly to face you.
"It feels like I'm the only the one who cares about this! So, lemme ask you this– again and again, and again– why are you doing this?"
"Si, you know I'm not doing that on purpose–"
"And I'm supposed to buy that?"
"Well, I didn't ask to be like this, Simon–"
"Well, I also didn't ask to be with someone who's going deaf so fucking quickly. But, life's not always sunshine and rainbow, huh?"
It always hurts to be honest, but a part of Simon of have always wanted to throw those words at you. But, what hurts even more was seeing your face contorted to despair and guilt when he knew you heard him clearly– the only moment he wished you hadn't.
"I'm tired of this."
And with that, Simon slammed the door behind him– leaving you blanketed with the unbearable silence and the wrenching guilt of letting Simon bear with your situation.
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a.n. it's my first time writing something...
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cod-dump · 3 days
Note
Hello, Mike! Sad question incoming!
In the au where Nikolai is Soap’s bio dad, how would he react to his death?
First post mentioning Nik being Soap’s bio dad
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Regret
———
He didn’t go with them when they went to spread his ashes in Scotland. He gave Price a part of them then took the rest, no one saying a word about him not being there.
Nik took them there, flew them out and told them about Soap’s favorite trail that they would go on when he was a kid. It was sad he couldn’t really name any current, something that would haunt him. Nik would have regret not doing more with his son outside of work. He should’ve been there more, tried to reach out sooner even though he believed his boy wanted nothing to do with him.
He will forever be haunted by that regret, that anger with himself for not doing more. But he couldn’t imagine the pain his mother was dealing with. Nik chose to be the one to tell her, even though it had been years since they last spoken in person. He felt so numb during it all as he went to her house — The house that Soap would grow up in without Nik being a part of it.
He knocked after a deep breath. Nik had to steel himself, ready for the onslaught of emotion that was to come from his ex-wife and the mother of his child. The look on her face when she opened the door and saw him was first shock, then anger, then confusion.
“Nikolai?”
“Linda.”
The crack in his voice made fear take over her features, every muscle visibly tensing as she gripped the door frame.
“What happened?”
Nik’s voice failed him for a moment, knowing what he was about to say will break them both. He hadn’t said it yet, out loud, of what happened to Soap, to their Johnny. He had heard it plenty of times before, almost immediately after it happened. He’s screamed, cried, raged — Every emotion he has felt. And now he’s settled at silent regret, and once he says it out loud, it’ll start all over again.
“Johnny’s dead.”
It came out blunter than what he intended but there is no gentle way to tell a mother her son is dead.
Linda stared at him without a change in her expression for five seconds before she started shaking her head.
“No… No-“
He couldn’t look at her, he felt a crushing weight shake him as he watched Linda’s world come crashing down under it. She clung to the door frame, chanting ‘no’ as tears began to stream down her face.
As expected, she turned to anger.
“You’re lying!”
“Linda-“
“He’s not- Why would you say that?! Do you hate me that much? To cause me that pain?!”
Nik said nothing more, he knew his voice would give out if he tried. He just listened to her yell, deny their son’s death, and cry. It was devastating watching the woman who he once loved, the woman who he had a child with, break. Her rage would melt away to pure devastation, and she would look him in the eyes and scream.
Then the door would slam, and Nik would be standing there alone. He didn’t even make it off the porch, failing onto the steps with a great heaviness before he broke. He didn’t scream like he did the first time, didn’t feel the intense overwhelming feeling of it all. He just cried, feeling like a true failure. A father who failed his child.
A child without parents has a name: Orphan. What is a parent who lost their child called? For Nik, no single word could ever describe what he was feeling, the hole in his heart that will never be fixed. There was no word for that. No word that truly showed that pain, no word that when spoken someone would understand it.
He would sit there, truly broken. And the door would open behind him, and Nik would tense as a hand lightly touches his shoulder. He turned his head to see Linda, drained of life. Her hand remained on his shoulder.
“I… please come inside.”
And he did.
Linda asked about what happened and they cried together. They were the same in that moment, they had both lost something irreplaceable. Johnny was gone and neither would ever be the same. He had expected her to bring up his career, repeat that old argument that he negatively influenced Soap and made him idolize the military and war. But she didn’t. She didn’t need to, Nik had thought it moments after he was sat down and told what happened.
That regret was a complex emotion. He didn’t just regret not being there for his son, he regretted him being the one putting him there. Johnny was so smart, Linda and Nik wanted him to go to college and get an engineering degree. Pursue that persistent fascination of the stars and space he had since he was a toddler. But Johnny didn’t do that, he wanted to be just like his dad.
Nik would forever have that hang over him, and Linda knew that.
Under Linda’s request they cremated him. Nik had made no objections, neither wanted to have a funeral. That is not how they wanted to remember their boy, cold and dead before them. She gave 141 some of his ashes, the rest was for her and Nik.
And as Price, Ghost, and Gaz made their way up that trail to those cliffs, Linda and Nik went elsewhere.
“He loved it here… told me he missed coming here with you.”
The house that Nik had owned when he still had split custody over Johnny was a place he had a hard time being. He never sold it or abandoned it. He maintained it but never lived there. He couldn’t, especially not now. That place was for him and his son. It was not a home without him.
The woods behind the house was Johnny’s playground, Nik would’ve bought him an entire forest to make him happy. But the fifteen acre patch of woodland was just enough for Johnny. The stream behind the house was one of his favorite places to go. He would try to catch fish or any small critter and bring them back to the house. It still flowed gently, even after all these years. The birds sang, the breeze was welcoming. It felt unfitting for the occasion.
“I remember that model boat I got him. Took us a couple weeks to build it and seal it… just so he could watch it flow down the stream.”
Linda sniffled before she reached into her bag and pulled out the small wooden vessel. It was more cardboard than wood, biodegradable. And it held what was left of Johnny.
“I was so mad when he came home for the school year with his new church pants torn…” Linda smiled sadly, looking at the tiny boat.
“I told him to change but he didn’t listen,” Nik spoke, smiling softly at the memory.
“He was a stubborn boy, nothing you could’ve done.”
Nik swallowed hard, looking away from the stream and into the trees.
“Nothing we could’ve done to change his mind,” Linda said softly.
Another breeze would sweep through the trees, birds singing another chorus of their wordless song and the stream would continue to flow and laugh. The world would continue spinning, no matter what.
Linda kneeled by the stream and Nik would follow. She would stare down at the boat before she placed it in the water. And the stream would take it. They watched it go down the stream, and for a moment Nik could see a boy racing alongside it, dirty pants and wild hair.
The stream would take him everywhere, just like the ocean and breeze will. He was always so free. And now he forever will be.
———
Is this canon to this au? Nah but it’s good writing practice. Little projection at the end
MWIII didn’t happen :)
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barbiiecams · 3 days
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Hiii angel 💓💓 you have to do more of sugar daddy rafe plss 🙏 how they meet?
nsfw
i feel like you were already a kook. a rich, spoiled one at that. then because of your behaviors towards other people (both pogues and kooks you didn’t like) your parents had really had enough. like to the point where they cut down your allowance, yet that still didn’t seem to work on you.
one day your father told you “you need to get a job. no more funds from us.” which completely broke you down. you had been so dependent on them you’re entire life, because now you were 19 about to turn 20 with no real experience of having a job. in all your years, you grew up so wealthy. there wasn’t a need to have one. but here you were, begging your dad to keep you in his good graces.
“eventually you’ll need to work. where do you think i got all my money from?” he reasons, and now it’s starting to click.
“where would i even work?” you’d ask, almost on the verge of tears.
“a friend of mine named ward needs a gardener. he pays pretty well too. just start from there.” he says. this really blew you. who did you look like being someone’s maid?
“you’re joking right?” you stared at him blankly.
“it’s that or nothing.” your father gets up and walks away. now you really could cry, but you were more angry than anything.
you’d spend days holding off on actually contacting the cameron’s, but when the allowance money started to run out after a major shopping spree, you were ultimately left with no choice.
you called ward and asked if he still needed a gardener, and he most definitely did since he gave you the job on the spot. “you can start tomorrow at 8, if you’d like.” he said. money is money.
“of course, see you then.” when you hung up, you let out a breath of air, fully accepting your place and status now. you were the entitled kook princess, now turning into someone working for the cameron’s.
when the next morning came, you introduced yourself to ward, rose and wheezie. rose had instructed you on what to do, and ward explained the payment plan which was good enough. sooner than later, you’d started working in their front yard planting all kinds of flowers.
that’s pretty much how it looked for weeks. on top of that, not many people knew, which was a good thing.
you’d show up at 8, rose would make you something if you were hungry, then you’d get to work. but one day, it seemed like the angels were on your side.
you were working on figuring out how to keep that damn rosemary alive when you heard a voice behind you. and it didn’t belong to ward.
“who are you?” the man said. you turned around to see who was asking, and it was no other than rafe cameron.
“why?” you questioned. rafe recognized you too. everyone knew who you were, and it was embarrassing enough that the son of the richest person on the island knew you were working for his family. y/n y/l/n was supposed to be immune to working.
he smirks. “i know you.”
there was no refraining from the eye roll that crept up. “yea i bet you do.”
“why are you working here? don’t you just get what you want?” you were surprised he knew all this about you, aware of how much older he was.
“my dad cut my allowance.” you explained while working on the rosemary again.
“ouch.” he said while walking inside, abruptly ending the conversation. this kind of pissed you off but you paid no mind. moments later, he came back out with a glass of water.
“here,” he hands it to you, “it’s scorching out here.”
“thanks,” you accepted it, and took a long sip. for the rest of the time you were working, the two of you made small talk. even though the age gap was there, you still found enough to talk about.
an easy few hours later with rafe talking to you, and occasionally helping, your shift was over. and now suddenly you were perched on the bathroom sink, sundress bunched up and panties pulled to the side. rafe was balls deep, hitting that good spot and ready to bust one at any moment.
his hand covered your mouth to keep your moans quiet, and had the door locked so not a single soul could interrupt.
“fuckk,” he groans. “best pussy i’ve felt in a while, i’ll tell you that.”
a few more thrusts and you were done. your head falling onto his shoulder and ragged breaths for air.
your release sent his off, him quickly pulling out then sending you to your knees.
he jerked himself a few times, “open.”
doing exactly what he said, your mouth opened and you had your tongue stuck out. he finally cums, aiming for your mouth but some ended right below your eye.
when he was done, he wiped the remains from your face with his thumb, and had you suck on it. you stood up from the floor, wobbly and really hoping that no one heard anything.
rafe gathers himself, “a tight cunt like that doesn’t need to be working.”
you let out a laugh. “well here i am.”
“nah, not with me.” he zips his shorts back up. “i’ll take real good care of you. no more gardening.”
and ever since then, you were back to being the spoiled princess you were destined to be.
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plush-rabbit · 2 days
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Word Count: 3.5K A/N: No name again!! Part Three this time. Woo! Um, I just miss writing. I have some request that I wanna do, and like honestly, i need to make time. And I'm slowly making time! So, one day. I wanna write an Adam chapter, but like idk. Like I could. I'm the writer, but like also, I wanna do this other one, and like i thought it was gonna be super quick, but ya know me. I like words and sounding deep. So who knows. It gets like updated whenever its slow at work, so one day.
-
You pace around the room that you occupy. It doesn’t feel like home. You’re afraid nothing will ever feel like home again. You look at yourself in the mirror, and trace your tongue over your sharpened teeth, and you can’t recall the change to them- whether they grew into fangs during your fall, or when you were in your unconscious state. 
“‘S probably why my jaw hurt so much,” you mumble to yourself.
Despite not showing much interest in most things, Lucifer has brought it upon himself to make your room as comfortable as possible. He’s brought candles, and pillows to add color. He’s brought you different types of creams and perfumes for you to try, telling you to let him know what scent you like best. The shower adjacent to your room is kept clean, and stocked full of sweet smelling soaps. Your closet is full of clothes, so soft that you played with the fabric between your fingers until you feared you’d ruin them with your nails.
While your back no longer aches like it once did, you still avoid looking at it. The morbid curiosity to touch it grows every second, but you can only let your fingers ghost against the edges of the scars, feeling the pulled skin against yours, chills making your body rise. You feel bile in your throat when you touch a scar that runs thin and farther down your back- skin that stayed stuck and only released when it was far too thin and weak to hold on any longer. 
It’s sensitive, and almost ticklish. The tags of shirts make you uncomfortable, and you gently pat yourself dry after showers. You stare at the fogged mirror after every shower, and you have yet to wipe it clean and turn around to see what you’ve lost.
Lucifer has assured you that it’s not nearly as rough as it once was. Perhaps he’s right about that. Yet, you hate that he knows what you’re going through. You hate that you can’t be angry at him, that you can’t throw a fit and tell him that he doesn’t understand. But he does. He’s one of the few that will understand what you’re feeling, and you can’t bring yourself to talk to him.
There’s a knock on your door, and you look away from the mirror. “Come in,” you say out loud, already knowing who is on the other side- speak of the devil, and he shall appear. You give a small smile as Lucifer walks in with a tray of food, taking careful steps to not let the drinks topple over. 
“I brought dinner,” he says with a smile. 
You sit on the bed, legs crossed and watch as he places the tray over your lap. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you say. There are two plates, two sets of cutlery, and two drinks. Once again, he’ll be having dinner with you in the confines of your room. 
Lucifer takes his place in the chair beside you, and with a wave holds the plate in his hand, carefully balancing it as he holds the silvered fork in the other hand. Your fingers wrap over the silver, as you poke and prod at the food. 
“I hope you like it,” he says. “It’s been a while since I cooked anything, so I’m hoping it’s good for you.”
You pierce the food with the prongs of the fork. “I didn’t know you cooked,” you mumble, before taking a bite of your meal. The taste is savory, melting on your tongue, and you cut another piece before even swallowing the first one.
“It’s been a while.” Silver clinks against porcelain in a melody, behind his words. “It’s been ages since I’ve had proper meals.” You catch his eye, and he clears his throat. “Running Hell is a bit of a task. Hardly ever lets me enjoy my peace,” he says quietly, nudging his food with the sharpened point of the fork. 
“I can’t imagine the type of work it takes to run it all,” you reply, wrapping your lips around another forkful of food. 
Lucifer hums in response, and you take a sip of your drink. He hardly ever talks about Hell in detail. He’ll focus the conversation on you, trying to pry out your interests and likes. At times, he’ll talk about his daughter, Charlie. He tells you how she’s off somewhere in the Pride Ring, about how she was when she was young, how he would have her sit on his lap and watch as he’d tinker in his office. The stories are always in past tense, and you never like hearing the sorrow that are entangled in his words. Not only that, there’s a lack of mention of his wife, despite the ring that he still wears. 
The conversation comes to a still, and you frown. 
Dinners in Heaven were hardly ever quiet. There’d always be some type of noise, some gentle hum of a song, laughter, talk about slaughter that made you queasy. You’d eat with Adam most nights. Some nights you were accompanied by Lute and you always welcomed those shared meals, where she’d sit beside you, her wings folded neatly behind her, compared to Adam’s prodigious wings which graced the floor. She’d remove her mask when dining, and would grace you with a gentle smile. 
Home was the only place you’d ever see Adam without his mask. The horns curved and the bright lights a warning against others, looking down on others with heavenly light. He’d wear his mask in public, it was loud and showed who he was. Newer souls always looked at him with awe, and he hungered for the way that they would trip over themselves to speak to him. They may not have known his title, but they knew he was important, they felt the power that he held, the authority that he carried. He was someone to be admired. He was someone that you wanted to be around with. 
Even though you were just an angel, you didn’t hold power that others didn’t already have. But Adam still chose you, and you chose him. 
You should have chosen to run away when you had the chance.
The food tastes bitter, and you drop the fork, the clinking making your flinch and turn your head. Your name is whispered, and a hand places itself over your arm. Your eyes are shut tight, and you feel like a fool. “Are you all right?” Lucifer asks in a soft voice.
You suck in your lip, teasing it between your teeth. “No, I’m sorry, Lucifer.” You shake your head and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over. Turning to him, you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m fine, I’m sorry. I was-” your voice wavers, and you cover your eyes with your hand- “remembering Heaven. I remembered how my meals-” tears drip down, and you wave your hand. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to cry.”
With a wave of his hand, the tray of food, and his own plate disappears from your sight. It’s quiet for a moment, and he pushes his seat closer to your bed before breaking the silence. “Do you think of Heaven often?” Shamefully, you nod. “What do you miss?” 
Adam. You peek at him between your fingers, and when he hands you a tissue, you take it wordlessly. “The view,” you answer. The tissue dabs at your eyes, and you let your hands fall beside you. Fingertips nudge against your hand, a silent encouragement to continue to speak. Your fingers jump, and there’s a sudden urge to take his hand in comfort. Rather, you let your nails scrap against the bedsheets.
“When I was still-” Lucifer’s voice pauses to take a breath- “I would sneak off to this forest. I’d watch all of his creations frolic among the fields. I’d have a few of my own creations rest against me. It was serene.”
You stretch your legs, and pull the blanket over your lower half. “I was a lower rank angel,” you start. “No one hardly needed me unless they wanted me to fetch something. But there was-” you bit your bottom lip and flicker your eyes towards Lucifer who listens with his attention on you- “an angel who would take me to see the stars.” You smile softly, and rub the corner of the tissue between your index and thumb. “It was a vast space, where the sky was lit by the radiance of the stars. It was the first time anyone thought of doing something for me,” you say out loud. 
“You were an angel, were you not?” Lucifer asks, his body leaning towards you, a hand wrapping around your wrist, and you let him take your wrist.
“Just an angel, nothing more. I don’t even know why he was so nice to me.” You smile at him, but you look away, smiling at the end of the bed. “I still don’t get it.” He was praised for so much, given everything and perhaps that’s what made his ego bigger than what it needed to be. “But he was kind to me.”
“Another angel?” He sounds surprised. You wonder what angels were like back in his days.
“A higher ranking than I,” you shrug with your answer. There’s a reason why he was able to get away with so much.
“For all that Heaven was, the views were ethereal.” You hum in response. It’s silent, and his shoes tap against the floor. “I’m sorry that Hell doesn’t have views like those.” His thumb arches over your wrist, and you dig your nails into your palm.
You stay silent beside him. Heaven’s land and warmth, nothing but a memory for you to return to. The room smells of rosemary and wine, and your blankets are thick in the stench of it. You turn to him. “Lucifer, why don’t we eat at the table?”
He stiffens at your voice, his mouth opening and closing without an answer. “I didn’t know you wanted to,” he replies.
“I’m stuck in this room all day, I want-” more is what you want, more than the four walls of your bedroom- “I want to see the other rooms. I’m not like I was before. I can move now.”
His eyes scan over your body, and with a nod, he clears his throat. “Okay,” he nods once more. “Breakfast will be in the dining room. I’ll be here to walk you at the usual time that I arrive.”
“Thank you, Lucifer,” you say kindly, a smile ghosting over your lips.
“You’re welcome,” he says your name softly, twisting meaning into the syllables and letting it fill the air.
-
Your room is shrouded in darkness, vast and consuming. Perhaps it’s because you’ve spent so much time awake in the night, that you can recognize what’s beside you, or maybe it’s your vision, heavenly eyes now able to see in the night, almost as if it were day. You aren’t sure which option brings you more comfort- that you’ve spent so long in a place that you should call home, or that parts of your angelic nature have contorted into something else.
Sleep has yet to take you into its arms. You lay awake, unable to do much else, hoping that if you’re still long enough then maybe you rest. However, you do nothing all day but read and draw in a book Lucifer had given you. The television remains in an opened box, pressed against a wall. He had attempted to attach it to the wall, but grew frustrated when he could not figure out the wiring. When you offered that he call someone who could, he just placed everything back in the box grumbling under his breath.
His pride is the reason you still rely on books and his company for entertainment. 
The scars on your back are no longer tender as they once were. They’re soft, and ticklish. You squirm against the cotton of the bed and feel a chill pass when you think of them for too long. Your arms coil themselves around you, fingertips tracing over the scarring lines. You wipe your hands on the comforter, filth still etched into you.
Your legs kick the bed, and you find yourself unable to sleep. If it were Heaven, you’d have Adam beside you. It would be hours until he finally rested, staying up until dawn peeked through the blinds in gold. He’d keep you company. Even if he was tired, he’d grumble and whine, but would continue to hold a conversation with you until he could no longer. 
Truth be told, it was rare for you to struggle to fall asleep. You had no trouble resting your weary head, but when you did, you at least had Adam with you. 
As much as other angels complained about not being given bigger tasks, you hardly minded them. You had no real power over anyone, no real responsibilities. The only real duty that you were given, was to calm Adam when he became crass- at least more so than usual. Heaven was blissful, the only worry being whether Adam would call you a crass nickname in public.
He hardly listened to anyone. He might have quieted down when a Seraphim or even Lute would give him a look, but when it came to you, he would mumble under his breath, still simmering, but at least he'd hold your hand. A chill runs through your body. In quiet moments, you can feel the weight of his wings over you, the heaviness, the softness of his feathers, how they would cover you like a blanket. 
Moments with him were plenty, never did you ever have to miss him unless he was called out. The few times you both were separated, he was bitter- snapping and complaining to anyone who was unfortunate to speak to him. and you felt pride at being the one that he wanted, being the one who could calm him. All these weeks- conscious and unconscious- is the first you’ve ever spent without him- without knowing that you would see him again. You wonder what he’s doing. The thought hurts, a sharp pain in your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. 
You wonder if he’s upset with Lute. A part of you wants him to be, to know that he did care for you, enough to be upset at another for hurting you. And the other part, hopes that he isn’t. You hope that he understood that it was a task given to her, that he doesn’t hold it against her. You hope that she doesn’t hold it against herself. You close your eyes, and your hands scratch against the comforter. 
You need to think of something else.
There has to be something else that you can think of. Something that doesn’t have to do with him. Anything at all would work. 
Mornings. 
How the sunlight would cast gold in the room, peeking between the blinds and making his wings shimmer. The warmth of the light would only encourage you to dig deeper into bed, pulling yourself closer to him. Your wings would brush under his, and they were never as grand as his were. Where yours were iridescent, and fit to your body perfectly, his shined in gold, carved by Father and molded to be fitting of the first soul to ascend to Heaven. 
You cry, and a sob escapes, whimpering past your lips. You need another distraction. 
Your wings. 
Think of how your wings were ripped from you. How Lute was the one to perform the severance and how Adam was adamant to watch. How he wanted to be there for you. You think of how you’ll never have your wings again. You’ll never fly again. There will  always be a scar to serve as a reminder of what was taken. And despite not having them, you can still feel them. You feel their weight, and in the mornings, you can feel a ghost of an ache, as if you’d slept on them wrong.
You sob, crying like a child and you press yourself against a pillow, trying to dull the cries. You can’t recall ever being so teary-eyed, so sad and lonely. Even after your creation, you were greeted with love and open arms, and past the time when you were simply an angel, you at least had Adam and Lute to keep you company.
Crying seems like a foreign concept. You never cried much in Heaven. Not out of sadness, at least. You hadn’t realized how exhausting it was to cry. You heave, whimpering and clawing at the bed sheets. Your chest is tight, bones constricting themselves around everything delicate, gold burning inside of you. When you laid in bed with Adam and spoke of your fate, and even when your wings were removed, you hadn’t cried like this. You shed tears, and you begged for forgiveness under your breath, but you accepted it until you cast out. Some nights, you wake up and you think it’s all been some horrid dream, only to be reminded when you wake to a ceiling that is not yours. 
Your door swings open, the back of it smacking against the wall.
“What’s wrong?” Lucifer asks, his voice tense. His presence serves as a reminder of where you are, and where you can never return to. “Are you okay?” He’s inside your room, and the door closes with a smack the further he goes. 
You are unable to answer him through your cries, mumbling incoherently. A hand places itself over your arm, and flutters away when you flinch. He sighs your name, and the side of your bed dips under his weight. “Do you want to be alone?”
You hiccup, and after a pause, you shake your head.
“Is it okay to touch you?
You nod, and turn over. Your hands grasp and pull at his clothes, you make a note that he hasn't changed out of his daytime attire, and that his eyes sag with exhaustion. Despite it all, you need him here. You want him here. His hand cups overs, and he lets his thumb arch over the back of your hand. Lucifer shifts under your touch, unable to be comfortable in your bed. Your nails scratch against the fabric of his clothes, fisting the shirt in your hand, and you need him to stay. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, another one of his hands cupping over the corner of your head, gently stroking you. “Just cry it out,” he whispers.
You cry beside him, the touch of his clothes barely enough to keep you satisfied. Your face is barely hidden between the pillow and the mattress. You weep, unable to catch a breath, unable to think of anything more than just missing home. 
“I hate crying,” you mumble, hiccupping and hiding your face.
“Yeah,” he breathes out, tracing shapes over your forearm, “you get used to it.” Your body still shakes, whimpers and other pathetic sounds filling the room. “I- Um, I remember that angels were rather touchy- always together in flocks, and never really alone, so I-” he clears his throat, and you peek up at him through teary eyes. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but do you want a-” His face deepens in color, and he squeezes your arm, unable to manage the word out loud. “Or I can get you a pillow or something?”
Your hands let go of him, and the push against the mattress. “Lucifer?” You say softly, picking yourself up. He hums in response, his eyes wide and focused on you. “Can you hold me?” You gasp, your chest tight. 
“Yes- Yeah,” he croaks. “Of course. Whatever you need- Oh!” He gasps, when you cling to him, your arms snaking around him, pulling at the fabric of his clothes. You hide yourself in the crook soft curve where his neck and shoulder meet, your dewy face kissing his exposed skin. “It’s-” you can feel his hands pat nervously at your back- “okay.” You pull him closer to you, desperate to not have him leave you. “You’re-” at the sound of another of your cries, his arms tightening around your shaking figure, hands pressed into the soft of your skin- “You’re okay. I got you, you’re safe,” he coos. 
He’s warm, and he holds you close to him, his head knocking gently against yours. Your cries soften into whimpers, gasping breaths tickling over his skin. In a room where the glow of red peeks into the room, letting glass and skin flame under a dim hue, you find yourself reminded of home. You find comfort in someone holding you, you find yourself held together by sin, stitched and handled with care. Hands are gentle against your back, the pressure against the scars enough to make you crave for more, to have him touch more of you. You let your eyes close, and you tell yourself that you’ll ask him to leave, but you need a few minutes where you can feel safe, where you can feel wanted.
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cordelia-cardale · 6 hours
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A lot of rumours have been circulating around the spoilers dropped about Colin and his sexual life. My main thought on this is: intimacy.
Of course, I have to start by saying that if it’s true, I don’t like it, I don’t agree with it, and I feel uncomfortable seeing it. But hey! The man is single and a grown adult, so he does what he wants.
However, I do think that if we want to see half of the things in the book, including some kinky talk and female sexual pleasure on Pen’s part (help, I’ve been in naughty jail for quite some time now) it is crucial for Colin to know a minimum about what he’s doing. That only happens if he’s had time to discover his own sexuality (although it does take away from the sweetness of them discovering themselves with each other).
Yet, that sweetness might still be here and this is where intimacy comes in. If it’s true and Colin is well and truly in his slutty era, I actually don’t think it’s so ooc of him. We’re talking here about a man who, after his first trip abroad, brought home drugs to get high on.
You know what that is? A sort of escapism.
I see his thrysts in brothels as another sort of escapism. Especially if he’s having threesomes.
No strings attached, no single person to focus on = no intimacy.
We know this man is seeking escape. We’ve also been told he has some demons of his own he needs to wrestle with this season. I think one of those demons might be an intimacy issue.
I mean we’re talking about a man who believed he was so in love in season one he was ready to marry immediately. Only to later find out that his trust had been abused (I’m not commenting on what Marina chose to do, I’m just saying that he most likely felt extremely betrayed). And even if he says that he’s moved on in season 2, which his sexual experiences in season 3 will attest to, that boy is probably quite scarred on a mental level and is probably still escaping all sorts of real attachment. I mean even the swagger shows it. He knows he’s handsome and he’s having fun with it, but he is probably nowhere close to being ready to commit when the season starts.
And in comes our beloved Pen and she’s taking none of his shit. Worse, she will see right through him and eventually confront him about his need to escape, which will lead to a passionate carriage make out scene (mind still in the gutter, I do apologise, honestly send help). And for Colin, who possesses all that swagger, is visiting brothels and having threesomes, for his knees to buckle and to have trouble breathing because Pen gives him a compliment about his eyes in the context of a suitor lesson? It’s absolutely hilarious.
That man will always melt into a puddle when he’s with her because it is her. It is Pen, his Pen, a part of the family and someone who brings out the vulnerability in him he is so desperate to hide away.
I think, just as much as she needs to grow in confidence, he needs to grow in his trust in a relationship and to stop running and seeking escape. And I think they will help each other grow in that way. They will discover themselves with each other because there will be that intimacy and that vulnerability that these two do not have with any one else.
Of course that is also what might make the reveal of Lady Whistledown even worse for Colin. Because she is in part responsible for the pain and the betrayal he’s experienced. She did try to warn him and he did not listen so she felt like she had no other choice. But it was badly handled and he says that too. So we might get a duality where Colin finds that intimacy and that trust in Penelope and only her, but he also cannot just ignore how she’s responsible for his demons. And they will have to learn to grow around each other’s best and worst parts and decide whether they are what they want or not.
Anyway all this rambling to say that the sex scenes (if we do get them, I’m still not totally convinced) are probably a way to explore Colin’s demons but mean nothing. And I think (hope) we’ll be able to see the stark contrast in his attitude when he’s with Pen. Because after all, this is Pen, and this is love, and this is nothing like he’s ever felt before.
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sunnysam-my · 3 days
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Hazbin Hotel redesign ideas p. 2
I am a bit of fashion, especially men's, history nerd, and I'm also a bit of radio nerd, so here I go, biblically accurate Alastor.
ALASTOR:
Alastor was a radio host (a radio star?) who lived and died in Louisiana. He was shot during a hunting accident, in the head, somewhere in the 1933, during radio's golden era. He cares greatly about his image and always smiles to show no weaknesses. He hates modern technology and doesn't allow his face to be captured by video recording or non black and white camera. His is mixed-race Creole.
Nothing about Alastor design make sense and it pisses me off. Not only it doesn't fit the time, it also doesn't fit his character! Besides, he is too red. He disappears into the background, especially walls of the Hotel.
Alastor cares about his image greatly, yet his clothes are torn. He is supposed to be like Hannibal, yet he looks like an edgelord wannabe. It's awful. I learned nothing about him from his design, other than "he's and old-time radio deer guy", and that's really bad.
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Fashion in 30s was inspired by Hollywood, and sport and movies celebrities.
Back and white fashion in this period wasn't that different, at least for men, as long as you weren't poor, but here are some photos of specifically black fashion in 30s. In general I recommend that website if you want to look more into the fashion of this period.
His hair is completely wrong. And it's also really ugly lol. For richer black men a shiny straightening hairstyle was the go to since 1920s. One such style was "the conk" where one would chemically straighten their hair. It left hair shiny, but the process was painful and expensive. It literally could burn your scalp.
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Another popular style was the brush wave. It's creating narrow waves rolling on top of head with the sides cut short and smooth. This hairstyle is still present to this day, but nowadays it's done on the whole head.
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Other than that, men just wore their hair naturally, but short.
There is no focus on trousers or vest in Alastor's outfit. (Which is wild considering zipper fly was introduced in the early 30s, but was got popular by the mid ’30s). This was time of experimenting a bit with vests. If you wanted to look fancy and/or formal, you would wear a vest. Pants were wide legged, had a high waist and a single pressed line down the center of the leg. Some trouser waistbands were unique in the 1930s, for example a Hollywood waistband trouser. It had an extra wide band with a double row of buttons. They fit very high, overlapping the ribs. they often had netal ring tabs on the sides to tighten the pant to the correct fit without the need for belts or suspenders.
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Also, monocle? Really? …Really? Here you go, read this if you're curious. Lots of pictures of glasses included. Glasses stayed essentially the same in 30s as they were in 20s. They were "round with a center bridge in the early years and an upper bridge in the later years. Frames could be tortoiseshell, black plastic, or thin metal." 
Moving on from fashion, because I could never shut up, microphones!
The most probabale one that everyone who is redesigning Al is drawing is a good old classic Carbon mic. It looks like a ring with a metal star and the microphone inside. It can be hand held or a staff.
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But, if you wanna draw something different!
Other than Carbon mic there is also a Ribbon microphone (first row) and Moving Coil mic (second row). Unfortunately, they killed Alastor in the best part of the radio golden age, so the mics are still a bit ugly, not gonna lie.
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How would I design him:
First things firsts, either he is mixed or he is white, because right now it just feels like a cheep excuse to have an "evil voodoo" character without getting too much backlash. Let's be honest, nobody thought he was a POC and that white face doesn't help. Again, just like I mentioned with Vel, when you're drawing a character with human like skin tone you have to be careful and think how it ties to their race.
Second - fashion. His outfit and hairstyle is a disaster. He has always tried to 'dress to impress', so obviously I would give him well maintained clothing and that 'high quality', formal style. I would give him the dark brown Hollywood trouser with buttons and dark crimson shirt, like dried blood almost. Under a coat or jacket he would have a brow vest, both the same colour as the pants. Highlights would be golden and green or purple. I for one would love to see him start out with a jacket/coat which he stops wearing inside the hotel after he bonds with the people inside it more, but he would still wear it outside and in the finale would put it on again, after his breakdown in the tower. This would show he began to trust the hotel residents a bit before he 'realises his mistake' after the battle. I would give him short haircut, because not even white people wore hair like that. (What in the Karen-core is it supposed to be?). Say goodbye to that monocle. Why is it even there there? Because he is old-timely? What is he, a children's cartoon villain? His design doesn't need more soulless clutter. Give me something that tells me about him as a character. I've seen people give him old radio as teeth or chest and I love it! When it's not too detailed, it's a great idea to make Alastor less like a living human but also less of… just a deer. He just looks like a deer demon. I would keep his shoes, hands and antlers, and give him ears that would fit the hairstyle I would go with.
[Edit: I forgot to mention, I would give him a time accurate hat or a free wavy lock of hair to cover the mark on his forehead where he was shot]
Thirdly, the microphone! My love. I remember the microphone used to be able to talk, but now it doesn't, unless I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure. Now it's just a weird look staff microphone with an eye and that's about it. But imagine something like a moving coil with the metal sign on top of it were the letters on it change. It could be a way it's communicating, in a simple way. This was it could still have a unique shape. That would have been fun to see. I can certainly imagine it being something of an 'unfiltered voice' of Alastor, where it would change it's writing into "Shut up", "Die" or something like that and he would hit it in a reprimanding way to reverse it to "Smile!". I'm just saying, that's a cool idea.
Well, this took forever to make, I actually forgot about this, so it just sat in my drafts. Anyway, if you want to see brilliant use of costumes and detailed, accurate depiction of fashion (especially black and queer) through history in New Orleans I recommend "Interview With The Vampire" (2022). It's also a great show.
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