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#accurate but idk yet this is still an idea
angelamontoo · 1 year
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Joel Cairo and Renfield
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Idk what my exact train of thought was supposed to be with this, but here you go
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bountycancelled · 6 months
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a pencil, paper and an uncontrollable crush
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opla!luffy x reader
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requested: yes (I mixed 2 reqs so idk if that counts but reqs are still open for anyone)
genre: oneshot but in headcanon form? gn! reader, artist! reader
warnings: none, just some fluff!
a/n: I won't be writing as often becusde I'm writing my final rn, also this is short because i have a hard time imagining luffy being romantic so... enjoy!
♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧
now, it doesn't matter how obviously and hopelessly in love you are with Luffy, he's just not going to see it.
he doesn't see you make starry eyes at him, because his eyes are just as starry on a regular basis. when he catches you admiring him, he just assumes that you zoned out. (because he does that alot too)
so when he finds an incredibly detailed sketch of himself laying around on the ship, he excitedly goes from crew member to crew member, asking who drew it.
when he gets to you, notebook and pencil in hand drawing yet another portrait of him, you hang your head in mortification as he marvels at your work.
so imagine his suprise when he snatches that notebook our of your hands with a quickness to see what else you've steched in there, only to find himself on every. single. page.
I swear that his excited screaming is enough to alert other ships at sea of your exact location, but he can't help it, every drawing you've done deserves a reaction that fits how well you did it.
after he finds out about your habit, he starts striking poses for you and holding them right until your last pencil stroke on paper (or until he gets bored/hungry lol)
one night, you get a frantic knock on your door followed by Luffy's muffled voice yelling "are you still awake? I wanna show you something." so you open the door and he shoves a crumpled piece of paper right in your face.
you back up just a little bit and adjust your eyes, and you see a drawing of... some sort of animal? oh, wait nevermind, it's of you.
it's not the most artistically or anatomically sound drawing you've laid your eyes on, but it's... surprisingly detailed. he's drawn on pretty much every single visible scar, mole, freckle and mark, even some that you didn't know you had.
when you question how he managed to be so accurate, he tilts his head, pursing his lips and farrowing his brows in thought before answering. "Well, it wasn't on purpose, but I always look at you when you're around me. you catch my attention, kinda like food does!"
pause.
did Monkey D. Luffy, the strawhat captain, mister gum gum himself, just compare you to food...? moment of silence, because this is so much bigger than all of us.
after hearing this revelation, you cave and plant a quick kiss on his cheek as a thank you (and as a means to let him know of your more than platonic feelings for him), slamming the door in his face before he even has the chance to react.
p.s. Luffy doesn't have any idea why you kissed his cheek, but he knows that it made him feel good, and he wants to get one from you again.
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velvetydream · 22 days
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꒰ :🥀 [ Blissfull relief ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : Sampo wakes you up from the Golden Hour in a pretty interesting way.
Pairing : Sampo x fem! Reader
Word count : 864 Words
Genre : Smut (Minors DNI)
Warnings ➵ Slight Peanacony Spoilers
Content ➵ Somnophilia (Consented),
Cunnilingus
a/n : Short one to get back into writing, also everything in this is written with consent in mind, reader gave Sampo the consent to be woken up like that. Also idk how lore accurate this is with the pool, but eh let's go with the flow!
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The Golden Hour was buzzing with people like always, people from many different planets and so many different backgrounds. Yourself strolling through the bustling streets to the Clockie statue right now. Sampo had told you to wait up for him there yesterday, wondering what he wanted to talk about.
Watching the storefronts, everything looked expensive and just perfect for this dream world. It was crazy to imagine the Golden Hour even exists, that the Dreamscape overall exists.
Arriving at the statue, you take a good look around, the blue-haired man is nowhere to be seen, he probably would take a while longer. The golden statue of Clockier was reflecting the lights of the city, making it look as if it was sparkling. Further behind it was the poster of Robin, many people walking the streets humming or singing her songs. Stepping over to one of the many benches, taking a seat as you fold your leg over the other, waiting patiently for a certain someone to meet you. Some time goes by, looking at your phone for a second, he is already 20 minutes late, Sampo usually comes a bit later but not this much and especially not to a meeting with you.
Sighing as you put your phone back into your pocket, rest your elbow on your knee and your face on your hand. People were walking by, not one giving you a glance. Everyone here was in their own little world. Somewhere in the background, you could also hear some of those walking billboards pestering the people walking past them.
A while went by when you suddenly started to feel a little uncomfortable. It confused you. You couldn't really describe this feeling, but it felt tight? As if your chest is getting tight. Your chest tingling. Suddenly a jolt makes you bend over, chest pressed to your knees now, your right hand over your mouth. Eyes blown wide, as you feel heat building up in your core slowly. What was happening? Something like this never happened to you here.. Was your body getting sick? We're you about to wake up?
Sampo still wasn't here which worried you slowly, it must have been an hour by now. The heat in your body slowly but surely rises and gets stronger and hotter with every passing second. By now people gave you glances, wondering what was wrong with you, probably thinking you drank too much SoulGlad and were about to empty it again. But this was far from what was happening to you. The urge to slip your hand down to your core and silence the burning desire was getting hard to control. But you couldn't, not here, yet you knew if you were to stand up in this condition it wouldn't work out for you.
Maybe you should just wake up? Finish this awake and in the hotel? But then again Sampo would probably be here soon.. Another flash of burning hot desire was sent through your body, more intense than any before. Your eyes shoot open, as your mouth opens to let out a pathetic moan, hands thrashing around to grab anything around you, which ends up being a head of blue hair.
"Finally awake.. Took you almost half an hour, amazing how long you did." Above you was Sampo, looking down, the lower half of your body was exposed while still in the pool. Just not the conversation you and he had last week hits you. Telling him how hot you think it would be for him to wake you up by eating you out, giving him your consent to surprise you if he was to do it. Yet you didn't think he would convert that idea so soon.
"Cat got your tongue? Maybe I should just continue so all you can do is moan while you come ondone on my tongue." With that Sampo lowers his body back down, his hot tongue running a stripe up your core, before licking around the sensitive nub. This was bliss. Your right hand was softly tangled in his locks, while the other held onto the edge of the pool, eyes closed while your head was thrown back. His hand was slowly moving under your shirt, pushing it up a little bit while doing so, before finally reaching the sensitive nipples and softly twisting them between his thumb and pointer finger.
With all this build-up of pleasure and the pleasure Sampo was still giving you, you were bound to not last longer and he knew that, from the way you were moving around, his free arm holding you in place by your thigh. With a suck to your clit, you finally come undone on his tongue, making him lap up any last bit of your release, before moving his body over you.
"Now, did that fulfill that fantasy of yours darling?" His green eyes were staring down at you, with a handsome smirk on his face. "Better than how I imagined." Pulling him down by his shoulders now, this was bound to be a long night ahead.
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what-even-is-thiss · 9 months
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hi! if this is too personal i completely understand if you just delete it or something, but you're like the transmasc person i see the most on here so i thought i'd ask you.
i've been thinking about going on T at some point in the near future (don't have access right now but will relatively soon). i'm scared to take the leap, and i'm kinda scared of like... the process? idk i was wondering if you could share like... some of the gradual things that you start to see? i think i'm afraid of just waking up one day and seeing like "oh my god i'm a man suddenly" but realistically i know the changes are slow and gradual.
so i guess my question is how does it feel/what is it like to see those gradual changes and what can be expected? tysm and again no worries if this isn't something you want to talk about :)
So you need a second puberty talk, huh?
Well everybody experiences different things at different rates but here’s what’s up.
In the first week to month:
Your throat may start hurting and/or your voice might start cracking. This means your voice is changing. Your voice could drop slowly and gradually or you could wake up one day with a lower voice. The tone of your voice before T generally won’t tell you how deep your voice will be. Your voice could barely change or it could get really deep. It’s the same for cis men. This is all normal.
Your clitoris will start growing. This is generally one of the first changes you’ll notice in the first two weeks. It may hurt a bit while it’s growing or it may not. It may grow more sensitive or it may not.
You may start smelling different. The things that may smell different range from your sweat to your pee to your vagina. You generally don’t smell worse. Just different.
You might notice a difference in your sex drive and sex and masturbation in general. You may want sex more. You may want sex less. You may want sex with different types of people or the same types of people. Your orgasms may feel different. It may be easier or harder to orgasm. You may wish to inspect your growing junk. This is all normal.
About 2-4 months in:
Your voice will likely have lowered noticeably by the end of 3-4 months, but it won’t be done changing yet. Your singing voice may be very off key or difficult to control. This will even out with practice and as your new voice settles but it could take a while.
Your period will likely be uneven and unpredictable at this point. If you’re lucky it may stop altogether. It’s probably smart to keep carrying panty liners and pads for a while in case of random spotting.
You might get acne and other annoying changes to your skin. That’s puberty.
Your fat will likely start moving around at this point to different areas but it will take a while for it to finish.
You might notice more hair in general around your body at this point. You might not.
You may be sweating more. This is a puberty thing.
It may be slightly easier for you to gain muscle now if you’re the sort of person who works out
One year in:
Your clitoris will likely have stopped growing and top out at 1-2 inches long
Your period will likely have stopped completely at this point
Your body hair and beard won’t be fully filled in to where it will be years from now but you’ll likely be shaving or managing a stringy puberty beard by now.
Your hairline will likely have receded a bit by this point. This doesn’t automatically mean you’re losing your hair. Men’s hairlines tend to be further back than women’s. It’s smart to keep track of that though if it matters to you.
Your body will still be changing but passing will likely be much easier by this point.
Your voice will likely have settled a bit but you may still need to work on your singing voice more if that’s something that’s important to you.
By this point you’ll likely have an accurate idea of how T has affected your sexuality and sex drive, if at all.
Reminder that things happen at different rates for everyone. It’s puberty so it’ll take a long time. You may still notice changes 3-4 years in.
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moonrisecoeur · 6 months
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contentment - leon kennedy
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a/n: this is just me, a dom lady, rambling about leon. idk which leon this is… maybe re4? maybe id? who knows
content: sub leon, afab reader, no pronouns, oral (reader receiving), reader orgasm, manhandling (of leon), degradation, praise, obsessiveness (both), worship, let me know if i missed any!
wc: 3.5k
 —
leon’s hands wrap around your waist as he sighs into the kiss, interlocking behind your back. a part of you wonders if this is his way of telling you all the things he doesn’t want to or can’t say out loud. does wrapping his arms around you (trapping you for all intents and purposes) translate to something like ‘please don’t leave me’? you think you might be right because he seems nervous, and he’s never nervous when kissing you. kissing you makes him not nervous. he’s not shy like he used to be.
he was, once upon a time, when he was a rookie and when he was young and fragile and innocent. maybe then he would have blushed and felt nervous when you kissed him. he likes to think he’s matured since then. that may not be incredibly accurate.
he thinks he’s changed, but you seem to believe that deep down, he’s still that soft, fragile person. maybe you’re right. maybe he hasn’t changed at all.
your lips start to slip away from his, moving towards his neck as you use your hand to hold his jaw exactly how you want, manipulating him into just the right position for whatever you plan to do with him. your other hand is wrapped around him, gripping his shoulder for stability. part of him is glad you find stability in him, that he’s provided something of use to you.
sometimes he worries he plays too much of a passive role in your relationship, he thinks about all the expectations he has of himself and how he thinks he should act around you.
….but then again, no one who’s upset about having to do everything, enjoys doing everything as thoroughly as you do. he decided that you just prefer giving, leaving hickeys and touching all over him. you crave reactions, whether verbal or physical. you want to see an effect, the effect you have. so he shows you the effect you have on him. he sometimes feels his life purpose is giving you everything you want. 
your lips touch the sweet skin of his neck, but your sharp teeth puncture it. he hisses, body tensing in an almost comfortable sensation of pain.
something deep inside of his soul is mournful at the idea that he has only been able to find comfort in the burning, aching, stabbing, searing sensations that come with pain, because they’re familiar and numbing. only those things bring him back to baseline: moderately miserable.
and yet, he finds himself even more soothed by the way you’re sucking on the skin around the bite and leaving apologetic kisses behind in between. not that you should really have to apologize. leon certainly wasn’t in a place to be expecting apologies when he’s enjoying this so damn much.
plus the cherry on top was always you pulling back to admire your work, maybe even a drop of blood on the corner of your lip. you touch a finger to the sensitive skin, and he doesn’t give a verbal reaction, but he felt it, noticing how tender he’s becoming under your control.
“i think you could stand to have a couple more love bites, don’t you?” you ask him, but it’s obvious how you feel. you’re not really asking him because you want his input, you know his answer.
and he does, because under his tall, dark persona, he is a fragile mess of a man and he’s painfully infatuated with you.
“yeah…” he groans, your hand resting on his neck is distracting at best and dizzying at worst. part of him is screaming at you to just tighten your grip. he thinks it would be super hot if you were just a little bit meaner to him. 
“leon,” you whisper in his ear, unintentionally bringing him back to reality.
“yeah?” he responds back, just as low as you. he’s not nervous; he’s never nervous around you, but something in his voice feels.. smaller than usual.
you choose not to push. not now.
“i love you,” you tell him, “thought you might want a reminder, just in case you forgot.”
“i’m not that forgetful,” he laughs, but you see the smile on his face. he never really has a big smile, usually just a faint smirk or a small grin, “i love you.” he says, emphasizing the word ‘you’.
you’ve always known of your feelings for leon. they hit you fast and hard and immediately, like every moment spent in his presence was accompanied by thousands of butterflies aching in your stomach. loving him is an ache in your chest that never quite goes away.,
leon describes his feelings towards you differently. he doesn’t love hard, he loves deeply. him falling for you was a slow maneuver, a quiet and calm descent into a form of madness. he loves from behind the scenes, caring endlessly, but it’s not loud or in your face.
your love is infatuation and ache, his love is protection and devotion. you both love differently but not any more or less.
his love is expressed in how he holds you, hands shifting from being interlocked behind your back to holding onto your hips. translating this moment gives you the impression he’s saying ‘if you don’t do something to me in the next 10 seconds, i’m gonna go insane’.
he groans impatiently as you run your hands across his chest. you almost can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at reading him. although, you can’t take all the credit; he doesn’t exactly make it difficult.
“you’re so easy to rile up,” you say to him with a giggle, a teasing tone laced in your voice. he eats it up, as usual.
he lets out a deep and pathetic groan, “god, you-” one of his fists balls up, pulling away for just a second. he’s slowly unwinding, slowly losing self control.
it was exactly what you wanted. right from the moment you met him, you wanted leon fucking obsessed with you. it was the only way to create some kind of balance in a relationship in which one person was painfully infatuated and one person was (seemingly) unaffected. you wanted him to spend every moment of every day thinking about you, wanting you. that would only make it fair to you, considering how every thought is about him.
turns out the universe gave you exactly what you wanted because leon is everything you crave and so much more. sure, it’s miserable when he has to leave, but he comes back so desperate for you, with maybe millimeters of self control left in his body. he graciously give you a few seconds to recognize what’s happening before he presses the most hasty and desiring kisses to your lips with his hands grasping for anything he can get them on.
in short: he’s obsessed. just how you like him.
even looking at himself now, he notices all the little physical effects of you. the rope burns on his wrists, the bruises from your mouth on his neck, collarbone, thighs, fucking everywhere. he’s almost nervous for when he has a full week off and you take the opportunity to consume him completely.
“what do you wanna do?” you ask, softly. this time it’s a genuine question. he seems kind of out-of-it and you don’t want to push him further than he should go right now.
“can… can you- uh, well, what do you want me to do?”
you shake your head, almost disappointed but not surprised, “no, don’t do that, you know i don’t like that,” you say, hands resting on his waist, fingers brushing against the cotton material of his t-shirt.
what exactly did you not like? him deferring to what you want? not voicing his wants or needs? him trying so damn hard to cater to you? you berate yourself for the harshness of your words as he stands before you, silent but with soft, inquisitive eyes.
“i’m sorry,” you murmur, pressing an apologetic kiss to his lips that he accepts gladly, pulling away just to whisper, “tell me what you want. i’ll give you anything.”
“want you,” he whispers back, but it’s so obvious that you could roll your eyes, “maybe i could.. give you head?”
“yeah?” you groan at the thought of the image of putting him on his knees, pulling his long hair as he gladly puts his mouth to better use. you’d call him a desperate and pathetic mess and he’d adore it, groaning and whimpering against you, begging and pleading for something he’s not quite sure of. maybe he’ll notice the bruises on his knees when he showers in the morning. a nice little surprise for tomorrow.
“can tell you like that idea by that look on your face,” he grins, and you wonder if he can read you just as well as you can read him. you bring a hand up to his jaw, caressing the sweet skin with your thumb, and he hums.
his fingers dance impatiently along your sides as you get lost in your internal fantasy and briefly forgetting the man in front of you.
“hey, if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’m going to catch a cold,” he jokes, and you hate that you laughed at one of his corny one-liners again.
you pull at the edges of his t-shirt, not moving to take it off (you’re certain you don’t have time to do everything you want to him right now, gotta save that for another time) but instead just rest your hands on his bare waist, leaning closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder, and closing your eyes. you inhale his scent in and really take in the moment with him, fleeting and innocent. he’s here. he’s here with you and not out somewhere saving the world.
that’s probably leon’s biggest weakness: his goodness. he’s always caring, always helping, always trying so fucking hard. screw saving the world, you care that he makes it home safe to you. he’s learned to be less reckless only at your request.
“get on your knees,” you say, suddenly, shockingly. leon was clearly in some other universe when you spoke those words to him, judging by him jumping a bit at your sudden command. it’s not one he hesitates to give in to, because he takes a small step back and falls to his knees immediately. 
you discard your pants and underwear, throwing them to some unimportant corner of the room. you get up close to him, so close that if he just leaned in a little more, he could taste you. but he’s learned that while you wouldn’t stop him nor say anything if he moved to devour you then and there, there’s something else you like more. if he holds back and begs for it, for you, for you to use him to get yourself off without any regards for him or his pleasure (he could get off just watching you cum but that’s besides the point), you’d go crazy. he likes you crazy. 
oh, the look you’d give him. he can picture it. you’d roll your eyes to the side, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. he loves to watch you lose yourself in the fantasy that builds in your head, the intense power trip you get is so plainly displayed on your face.
he loves it. loves watching you lose your cool, slipping from funny and goofy and sarcastic to fiery and dominant and uncontrollable. it’s like all those fantasy books that describe eyes getting darker with desire, that would be you. he sees how badly you crave him. serves you fucking right for taking up so much space in his head.
“use me,” he groans, and you silently caress his face with your hand, letting your thumb drag against his lips, pulling the bottom one down slightly before retreating.
“yeah?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. so long and pretty, so perfect for pulling.
the motion had stunned him briefly, but his confidence returns just after, “use me and grind against my face, pull my hair so i cry out in pain for you,” he knows you like that, given by the weakness on your face. you’re cracking. he’s got you, “take what you want from me, and leave me a desperate mess. please.”
the voice crack he lets out when pleading for you wasn’t intentional, but not unwelcome, because you really seem to like it.
there it is. the look.
your eyes roll to the side before centering on him, darkening just as he imagined.
“fuck, babe,” you groan, your voice raspy as your head fills with possible images of him, but you stop yourself from daydreaming. not when leon was right in front of you, begging you to be selfish and take what you want from him. so, you let yourself be selfish.
your fingers in his hair grasp tightly at the strands, and he gasps before being thrust between your legs.
“you’re such a fucking slut, baby, god- i love it,” you say as he gets right to work, lapping up the juices of your wet pussy with vigor and brushing his nose against your clit. your legs give out for a second, but he grips your thighs to steady you. even in this high of being between your legs, he’s still looking out for you, as always.
something in his stomach burns when you say that word. s-l-u-t. his ego hates it because it couldn’t be further from the truth. if anything he was just a little promiscuous. who was that really hurting?
but his dick apparently loves it when he’s being degraded, because he feels it twitch in his pants.
he moans while eating you out, intentionally most of the time, because 1) you like it when he’s vocal and 2) the vibrations of his voice against you feel immensely good. but the whimpers are never intentional. you pull especially tightly on his blonde hair, and he cries out in a temporary pain.
he thinks he likes servicing you more than you doing anything for him because it makes him feel useful to you, and it’s easier to let himself be loved when he can justify it to himself. it may not be the healthiest way to go about his relationship but nothing compares to the high of being called your-
“good, good fucking boy, leon, shit-” you gasp, eyebrows furrowing as you close your eyes, grip on his hair tightening, “let me go real quick, i need to be laying down for this.” he does and you stumble backwards into his bed. if you wouldn’t slap it off his face, he’d smirk at how affected you seem already. instead, he just internalizes your praise, letting it stick to him and hoping it never leaves, “well? what are you waiting for? come finish what you started.”
he stands to walk over, kneeling down again by the edge of the bed and leaning his head down back to your pussy, picking up where he left off. except this time your legs are wrapped around his head.he thinks he could die here and die happy. 
“god, leon, fuck,” you mutter, briefly wondering if he was actually the god you were calling out to, if he was the answer to all of your prayers towards the universe. if the horrors you had to face was the price to pay for a god to be worshiping you on his knees, a literal god, then it would have been worth it ten times over.
you muse over what kind of god leon would be. in his infinite goodness, perhaps he’d have been a merciful, kind god, granting serenity and happiness wherever he touched. which was ironic, considering he didn’t ever touch those emotions with his own hands, unless yours was holding his.
he works silently, but tirelessly, feeling himself get fatigued but pushing past the feeling until you tell him to stop. you use your grip on his hair to manipulate his mouth to exactly where you need it.
“you’re so good, so fucking good to me,” you say, playing with the shorter hairs at the base of his neck, then dragging your nails against his neck and scalp.
even though the gesture is not a foreign one, you physically feel him shiver and twitch beneath your hands. he curses under his breath.
talk about a fucking power trip. how were you not supposed to be a narcissist when leon crumbled beneath you at the simplest things?
“you-! fuck, use your teeth, baby. don’t be gentle,” you tell him. he does like hurting you, but he still does it, begrudgingly loving the desperate sounds you make. you cry out, readjusting your tight grip on his hair, and he can’t stop his hand coming up to your outer thigh, resting gently, reassuringly, and apologetically. isn’t it funny that he did what you told him to and yet he’s trying to apologize?
“leon,” you catch his attention, and he worries you’re about to tell him to remove his hand. he would, but it would sadden him, “make me cum,” you order, and that’s more his speed. a command. a mission. something he can fulfill a purpose with, something quantifiable for him to use to justify to himself that he deserves you.
so he sets out to complete that mission. he fucks you with his tongue, breathing heavy and nose rubbing against your clit rhythmically. his hand on your leg doesn’t move, still gentle and he even uses his thumb to caress the skin of your thigh. he’s copying your chosen method of comfort, like how you did when you gently held his jaw, soothing him with your touch on his cheek.
while leon is your god, you are his. he worships the ground you walk on, abiding to your will, giving in to you. you would never (because what has he ever done in his life to deserve it?) but you could walk all over him and he’d grin and bear it. he’d take it. even enjoy being of use to you.
he looks up at you, angel eyes as always. sometimes you forget that behind his harsh features, like his furrowed eyebrows and usual frown, his eyes are the softest, lightest blue. like the calm waters that lure you into a false sense of security. he could be a siren, luring you in for the kill, and you’d let him do it.
you look down at him, power and dominance exuding out of you. leon crumbles under the intensity of your gaze, breath hitching as he gives you his all, because he always is. when is he not giving you his everything? you could ask him to rip his heart out of his chest for you. and, ironically, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
he pushes you over the edge, and you feel it hit you like the waves of the waters of his eyes, the oceans that surround you when he’s near, drowning you in his touch and fire and soul. it envelops you, the warmth spreading throughout your body as you grind against his face, intent on getting the most out of one measly orgasm as possible. he lets you use him, because using him means you want him and need him and that’s all he could ever ask, ever crave.
you let go of him, the force pushing him back sitting on his heels. you motion for him to get up and lay with you with your hand, and he follows. you feel his strong arms hold you close and your bodies collide into one. you look at him, his lips swollen and the wetness of your orgasm covers his chin and nose, but he licks it off of his lips, making an erotic amount of eye contact.
“you don’t have to go,” you whisper to him, voice suddenly softer than before. you wish, considering how good he was at listening to you most of the time, that he conceded. he doesn't.
but he does. he has a few precious hours left before he has to leave. he doesn’t want to, but he knows better than to go against the people that threaten the lives of those he holds dear. he thinks about sherry for a moment. he thinks about claire, and ada, and you. 
he has to go. and he has to come back. for you. he never used to care whether or not he made it out alive during missions, but now that he knows you’re waiting patiently for him, he can’t ever let you down, ever let you feel that pain.
he won’t leave. not permanently, at least. 
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koolades-world · 10 months
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Oh my god. Nightbringer Satan crushing on MC and Demon brothers freaking out because it's the same thing that happened with Lillith. Lucifer acts like a clown. (Maybe tries the atic). Belphie too.
NO BUT you think exactly like me, like omg are we secretly twins… The idea is still so fresh in brother's minds since it literally just happened, and Satan is none the wiser. He didn’t live through it after all. He hasn't really had a real conversation about what happened to them since he hates being around them. And honestly, anything that pisses off Lucifer must be the right choice for him. And the thing about the attic! Kinda like to think that Lucifer realized that attic was the perfect place to hide his brothers after sticking Satan up there. If it could contain Satan, what couldn’t it contain? it’s too perfect! I think I just love anything Satan angst
idk if this was a request or not but I kinda wanna write something for this idea anyways so,, ty anon you're literally so cool, sending my love :)
I haven’t gotten through all of Nightbringer’s story yet so sorry if this isn’t totally accurate to what happens. I'm on like chapter 5 and I haven't seen any spoilers... Honkai Star Rail recently came out and my friends are also playing that game so we’ve been playing that. Will go back to Nightbringer soon!
brewing just under the surface
It has been some time since Mc had been outed as a human. It has taken everyone except Solomon time to adjust. At first, everyone was furious in their own ways. Belphie, Satan, and Lucifer showed it in the typical way. It was the most they had truly let themselves go after falling. Everyone in the Devildom was advised to stay inside. Levi and Beel holed themselves up inside, hiding away from the world, fearing that if they showed themselves, they would be burnt again. Asmo found himself drinking into a stupor almost nightly, as when he laid in bed trying to fall asleep, all he could think about was Mc. Mammon was similar. He was rarely home, afraid he would see Mc so he went out gambling or exploring the Devildom to take his mind off everything. Eventually, they began to warm back up to Mc.
Mammon, however, was also the quickest to find himself missing Mc. He began to forgive them and understand their situation. They had been nothing but sweet to him, so he felt like he owed it to them. They had been a friend in a tough time. He began taking them with him on his adventures and gambled less. With them, he felt happier, more like himself. Part of him was kind of giddy they could exist in a state like this, despite everything. He felt like he could forget everything with them. He had them all to himself, after all. Even if they were a human, they were still the same deep down.
Eventually, Beel and Levi came around, followed by Asmo. The remaining three brothers thought they could never forgive Mc. Lucifer had placed so much trust in their attendant only for him to learn they couldn’t even tell the truth about who they were to him. He might be able to come around one day, but for the meantime, he needed to be alone. Belphie had vowed to hate humans for as long as he lived, so forgiveness was out of the question completely.
However, Satan wasn’t really sure why he was so mad. He struggled to find a reason to be mad sometimes. He would rage until he wasn’t really sure why he was raging in the first place, which would make him begin to rage all over again. He had no substantial relationship with this attendant. He was always locked up, locked out, or just too mad to interact with, making him unable to connect with them. It wasn’t on his brother’s behalf either. He didn’t really care about them too much, not enough to be this upset. Mc did technically lie to him, but that thought didn’t really provoke him. So, what was it? That's the mess he had found himself in for the past week or so. He wasn't really sure when he started thinking about it, but he was really tumbling down the rabbit hole now.
Satan was tuckered out after a long night out of causing destruction. He found himself at peace on very few occasions. One of the things that gave him the time to think in peace was after he was tired, or after he had just woken up. When he wasn't angry, he found himself enjoying things, such as thinking or the beauty of the world around him. Because of this, he was seated at the edge of a cliff, looking over the ocean. His legs and tail dangled over the edge. He looked minuscule compared to everything else. The sky was dark, so he stared down at the waves crashing against the cliff. Sometimes, he would overhear his brothers complaining about how it was always dark in the Devildom, but he actually thought it was nice. It comforted him. Not too far away was a road. One of the moons hung low in the sky. The others were not visible at the moment. In another moment of blissful clarity, he had taken the time to learn about the Devildom sky from a book. It had been a gift from Mc. Why they would give him a gift like that was beyond him, but he had found himself enjoying it despite that. It was one of the few things he had not destroyed in his rage.
While staring at sea, he simply thought. With a clear mind, he began to wonder why he still found himself mad at Mc. He hadn't seen them in a while, so maybe the feelings had calmed down. It was positive that he was able to think about it calmly, anyways. He was still unsure why exactly he was mad at Mc in the first place. Perhaps he had thought he had finally found someone that he could somewhat relate to. But then again, they still didn't know each other that well. As he was trapped in his thought, he heard the crunching of gravel behind him.
“Mammon? You out here?” The person he has just been thinking about had suddenly appeared as if it was magic. They had a motorcycle helmet pinched between their arm and torso. They froze once they realized Satan was there.
“Hey, Mc.” He turned back to look over the ocean.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were out here. You haven’t seen Mammon recently, have you?” They remained standing awkwardly behind him.
“No.” He kept his answers short, not really sure how to reply.
“Right, thank you.” They didn’t move at first. Then they spoke again. “Do you mind if I sit next to you for a moment?”
Satan thought about it for a moment. “I don’t mind.” He had a lot of questions. They settled next to him. Most anyone who sat next to him sat at least an arms length away. But Mc sat just within reach. Not too close to invade his personal space, but close enough to talk to him on a personal level. If they wanted, they could reach out and touch his shoulder. They set their helmet on the side farther from him.
“What brings you out here?” They asked, looking at the sky too. He had to stop and think about their question again. If it had been anyone else, this would have bothered him by now.
“I’m not sure. It’s beautiful, mysterious. Maybe that’s why.” He looked at them from the corner of his eye. Their looked out at the connection between the ocean and the sky.
“I’ve always loved nature. It’s not the same as home, but it’s beautiful in a different way.” The way they referenced the human works so casually made something within him twinge. Lucifer hated that place, and he should too, but he found himself curious.
“What was it like there?” He asked. They looked surprised, but answered nonetheless.
“It depended where you were. I grew up in a place where everything was always green with life, and you could always find some sort of life somewhere. But I traveled to places where all you could see was sand or the endless sea, like now. The biggest difference was the rising and setting sun. It wasn’t always dark. The sun always rose in the morning, to chase away to dark, and the sun always set to welcome the dark back. I used to wish it could always be night so I didn’t have to go to school and spend all my time at midnight reading, but now I miss it.” They reminisced. He finally turned his head to look at them. The stars and sea reflected in their eyes. “You eyes remind me of the morning. The forest and the rising sun illuminating it all.”
Satan paused again. He has never taken the time to look that closely at his eyes. He would have to look at them the next chance he got. “Thank you.” He finally said. “Do you miss the human world?”
It was Mc’s turn to stop. They still hadn’t realized he was looking at them. “Sometimes I do. But the Devildom has a charm. I’ve spend so much time here, it’s hard not to love. I do love it here.” They looked furthered down at the rocks below, reflecting the crashing waves in their eyes instead. “Someday, I would like to take you there. You would love some of the remote nature locations.”
This statement made Satan heat up. He couldn’t comprehend how they could say such kind things to him, the embodiment of anger. “That sounds nice.” His mind began to wander and suddenly, everything he has been feeling dawned on him. Mc was his friend. He had a friend. It was warm feeling that he didn’t know how to describe, but it did make him want to hold and care for Mc.
“Can I hug you? It’s fine if you say no, I understand.” He nervously looked back over at them again. This time, they were looking back at him. They hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. They scooted over to him, and wrapped their arms around him. They placed their head on his shoulder and inhaled. Satan was sure this was the most amount of affection he had gotten, probably ever. He was almost overwhelmed at first by the emotions he felt.
“You give really good hugs.” Mc seemed to really enjoy the embrace, but he didn’t dare respond. He wasn’t even sure what to say. He didn’t want to let go. This was probably also one of the most peaceful, sweet moments he’d ever had. “I should get going. Mammon is still missing.” Mc sighed.
“Alright.” He let go of them, but they didn’t scoot away quickly. They sat there for a moment, thinking.
“I’m making dinner tonight, if you’re interested. I also have something for you back at the house, so let me know once you get home. See you later.” They then got up, picked up their helmet, and left. They turned around a final time to wave, and he paused for a moment before waving back.
That was the beginning of it all. After that, he found himself by Mc’s side more and more. They went to see more remote scenery, and eventually, they went out in public together. He was still the same irritable, hotheaded demon, but he found it happening less often in the presence of Mc. When it did, they were always there to pick up the pieces of what he has done and comfort him. He was worried he might harm them at first, but they quickly proved they could handle themselves. They knew what made him tick and always seemed to know what he was going to do next. He would still have outbursts pretty frequently, but Mc mysteriously was always right on top of it.
Of course, his brothers, if he even dared call them that, noticed. They claimed they didn't care about their attendant but at the same time got upset with him for hogging their attention. Many times, Mc broke up fights between him and his housemates for this very reason. Even if he wasn't the Avatar of Wrath, he wouldn't have backed down. He still wasn't sure why. He wanted to hold them, love them, care for them. He was smart enough to know this wasn't how a friend would feel about another. Still, he had no clue what it could be if it wasn't that. As much as he didn't dislike Belphegor, he kept finding himself thwarting his attempts to kill Mc. They used to be his least hated of his "brothers" but now he had to say Beelzebub was the least hated now since he would help to control his unruly twin.
He found himself turning to books for answers. There was no one he could ask for advice besides Mc themselves, and he didn't feel comfortable bring this up with them. He was trying to grow more independent anyways. Books reminded him of Mc, since they had been to one to show him how useful they could be. They held the answers to everything, as long as you were holding the right one. Occasionally, he would find himself wanting to rip one to shreds but refrained since he knew it may be useful in the future. Besides, what would Mc think?
All of the books he consulted said the same thing. They described this feeling as a "crush" or whatever that might mean. He thought that word was stupid. The actual meaning was to destroy something with intense pressure and he definitely didn't want to do that. Other than that, he found the definition clear. He thought the word love might describe how he felt better, but he was too afraid to call it that. He did think they were attractive, and he would say it happened rather quick. But what was he supposed to do? They were the only person willing to get close to him.
He was in the middle of reading this book and processing this information when Lucifer threw open the door to his room. His room wasn’t barren anymore. Mc had built a small shelf for him to place his small book collection on. They had done it by hand so he was very careful with it.
“What are you plotting with that human?” He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.
“Nothing. Get out.” He didn’t look up from his read, but his tail lashed about like an aggravated cat. He prided himself for not tacking him the moment he walked in.
“If you would just tell me, I won’t have to do anything the hard way.” Lucifer didn’t relent. He rushed forward to grab his collar and suspended him midair. “I know about your little crush.” Satan immediately stopped struggling. He was stunned. He couldn't bring himself to form a response.
"That is strictly prohibited. You are to maintain a professional relationship with the attendant.” Satan looked into Lucifer’s eyes. He still wasn’t great at anything relating to emotions, but there was something more than anger stirring in his piercing eyes.
“And since when has that mattered to you? You filthy pig.” Satan snarled, moving to grab the hands at his collar.
“There’s so much you don’t know. You have yet to learn. I don’t care if you hate me. I refuse to lose another one.” The air stilled after those words. He had never sounded Lucifer so upset. It made Satan begin to think. Compared to his housemates, he was nothing but a blip on the radar of time. Before he could even think about forming a response, Lucifer was moving, still holding him. Satan protested and struggled, causing a ruckus.
Mc had been sitting with Mammon in his room, giggling together quietly over another stupid outfit Mc had made. They both went silent as they heard the struggle pass the door, the mood spoiled. They glanced at each other before cracking the door. Mc knew that Lucifer and Satan hadn’t had a physical fight in a while now, so when they saw Lucifer carting Satan off somewhere, they pushed the door open all the way.
“Lucifer. What’s going on here?” When Lucifer didn’t stop, Mc ran after him, causing Mammon to follow as well. He ignored their insistent cries. Mc grabbed onto his lowest pair of wings at the base and dug their heels into the ground in vane. They felt themselves begin to pale as they marched towards the stairs leading to the attic. The attic only held terrible memories, but they were determined to help fix whatever was going on.
As the parade went upstairs, Mc tripped on the first step. Lucifer continued without them, not even acknowledging that they fell. Their knees stung. Mammon was quick to appear at their side and give them a hand up. He had never asked why they seemed so traumatized by the attic, but he knew they even hated being anywhere near that spiral staircase. Dust showered the both of them as Lucifer stomped angrily up the stairs. Their ascent was anything but silent.
“Are ya sure ya wanna go after ‘em?” Mammon whispered to Mc.
“I do. Will you go with me?” They gripped his hand tightly.
“I would go even if ya didn’t ask.” After taking a deep breath, Mc began to ascend the stars as quickly as they dared after the duo, gripping Mammon’s hand. Upon arriving at the top, Mc swallowed nervously as they were greeted with an all too familiar sight. The metallic, enchanted bars looked newer than the last time they had seen them. Lucifer was currently standing behind them holding Satan. Standing as tall as they dared, Mc spoke up.
“Lucifer. What do you think you’re doing?” Their voice came out weaker than intended. Satan had never seen them so fearful. Sweat glistened on their forehead. As Lucifer turned around to face them, they stumbled back a little.
“This does not concern you, Mc. I thought I made it clear that I did not need a human meddling in my affairs.” Anytime Lucifer moved even a little, Satan noticed they seemed ready to dive to the ground or throw their hands over their head.
“Satan is my friend. I’m here for him. We can talk about this.” Their voice wavered.
“What part of leaving my private affairs alone do you not understand? You are merely an attendant. I have attempted to speak to Satan in the past. This hasn’t worked before. It will not work now.” Lucifer shook Satan a little. He growled.
“I understand you don’t want me to be part of that, and that’s fine, but I know a more healthy and less, uh, strenuous way of communicating. If you would just listen to me-“ Mc gently patted the air as a way of showing they were trying to tone down the situation.
“I will not repeat myself again. If Satan wants to act like an animal, I will treat him like one. Since you seem so keen on talking, I’ll just throw you in there with him. If you’re still alive when I return, I’ll consider it.” Lucifer moved Satan to hold him with one hand. As they reached for Mc, they went into a flurry of movement.
“No!” The shriek they let out pierced even the ears of Lucifer. They grabbed onto anything and everything to get between them and Lucifer. They continued to scream loudly, telling Lucifer to stay back. The only thing that truly proved a barrier between Lucifer and the human was Mammon. He seemed shaken by everything, but refused to move.
“Luci. I love ya and yer the best older brother I coulda wanted, but doncha think this is too far?” Mammon crossed his arms, hiding Mc behind himself.
“I warned them already. It’s time they pay the consequences of their actions. Humans are bad news.” Lucifer tried to reach around Mammon, but he caught his arm. Without another word, Lucifer grabbed Mammon’s arm right back and threw him over the edge and down the staircase. With him out of the way, Lucifer easily grabbed the human by the throat. They abruptly stopped making any noise. He shook them a little, seemingly enjoying how they swayed under his grasp and then threw both the entities in his hands into the attic. The door slammed shut and Lucifer disappeared. He could be heard yelling at the bottom of the stairs at Mammon.
For the first ten minutes, Satan wasn’t even sure if Mc was alive. They held completely still and remained exactly how they had been throw in. They were on their side facing away from him. Once Satan was sure nobody was coming back, he crawled over to them. He flipped them onto their back and was met with their familiar face. They quickly made eye contact with him, holding it. They way they stared at him made Satan nervous. Now was not the time to be getting butterflies. The attic was barren. There was no bed, or hundreds of spare boxes. There was little besides a layer of dust and what seemed to be some of Diavolo’s old things.
Satan ghosted his hand over their forehead. They were sweaty. He didn't know what to say. Mc was always better at dealing with emotions, but he knew they needed him. He thought back to what they would do after he had a meltdown. "Does anything hurt?" He first asked. They didn't do anything at first. He just sat and waited for them to respond, because sometimes he didn't respond right away either.
"Just my feelings." Mc cracked a smile. He was glad that they were feeling good enough to try to joke, but he also wasn't sure what he would have done if they had said they were physically hurt.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" That was the next thing Mc always said to him.
"Did you ever read that one book about the stars that I gave you?" He was taken by surprise by the question.
"I did." He had really liked it.
"Let's look out the window then, and you can point out your favorite stars." They pushed themself up with a wince. He held a hand out, to which they accepted without thought. They had lied to him about not being hurt. They leant the window sill as he began explaining what he had read. Eventually, he let Mc begin to explain things he had questions about. Again, he found himself looking at them instead of the stars. The lengths they went for him were beyond him.
He wasn't sure how to approach confessing how he felt. Now didn't feel like the right time. For now, he could just admire and appreciate them. Hopefully, that day would come...
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deathbxnny · 1 month
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Alright! After debating which characters i want to use for this idea, i chose Lyney! So can i request Lyney x reader where he and reader does a ballroom dance under the moonlight. The Merry Go Round of Life ost is honestly a perfect song for a ballroom dance so i have to request a ballroom dance! Also this ask is kinda similar to your Furina post, but..
Let me explain:
So the reader is Lyney’s crush and Lyney is also the reader’s crush. Their love for each other is mutual but both of them have yet to confess. The reader is wating for Lyney to be the one to confess while Lyney… Lyney plans to never confess to them. Despite really wanting to, he can’t. He won’t because if he does that would mean getting the reader involved in the Fatui which he vehemently does not want to happen. So he trapped the both of them in this dance of Will They or Wont They because while he doesnt want to be actual lovers for their safety, this dance will at least let him believe an illusion that they are one. He knows the reader will get tired of this dance but that’s fine with him. He will enjoy every second of this dance until the reader eventually finds a new dancing partner lover.
But until then, he will let himself believe this illusion as it lets him forget all his problems and be in love for once.
(I should probably mention that i have yet to play Fontaine so idk how accurate Lyney is in this request but even if he does date someone, i still think he wouldnt be too keen on having his S/O involved in his Fatui business. Am i right on that assumption?)
- Flower Anon 🌸
I love your brain, Flower Anon! This is such an interesting idea, but I might change it up a little, so I hope you like it anyways and I thank you for your request!<33
(Part two)
Content: Heavy angst?, Mutual pinning but no confession, hurt/kind of no comfort, ballroom dancing, hints of depression, Lyney is a bit of a liar, sfw Reader has no metioned pronouns!! ((Not fully proofread))
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《No happy endings. (Lyney x Gn!Reader)》
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In a way, Lyney always knew his love for you would backfire eventually.
Whether it was due to his own actions or his family's "business," he knew this couldn't ever turn out the way he wanted to. That eventually, he'd have to pull away from you for good. But he was selfish for way too long, perhaps even in denial. He ignorantly thought he could manage his many lies with the same ease he balanced his magic tricks on stage. And yet, it all came to a head the day "Father" told them of their important mission.
A mission he knew would end in nothing but heartbreak and loneliness.
He ofcourse tried to prolonge his doom for as long as he could, mainly because he just couldn't let go of you. He didn't want to, and it was so painfully obvious to everyone around him. It didn't help that he knew that you loved him back, too. Neither of you ever dared to confess, however, something he was thankful for until now. It made things a little easier, or at least it did, until you one day visited him at one of his street shows with a letter in hand, inviting him to a grand ball in the theater.
You were glowing under the bright sun, your smile wide enough to make him breathless. Lynette gave him a glance, an unreadable one he still understood anyway. After their last meeting with their "Father", she had bluntly asked him what he was going to do with you now. This wasn't the first time she had asked him this either. But everytime she did, his words would dry out in his mouth and he'd be left there speechless, unable to come up with a solution.
The issue was clear as day, however. It's either he confessed to you or he didn't. For a while, he entertained the idea of doing so, just so he can finally hold you the way he so desperately wanted to. But Lynette wasn't letting him dream anymore. If he confessed, then he'd have to lie to you about everything. And it was inevitable that eventually, one day, you'd find out about their real identities. Would you stay then? Freminet quietly shaking his head at his older brothers question was enough to make him finally wake up to the reality of the situation.
No, ofcourse you wouldn't stay, because he had deceived you for so many years. Perhaps you'd be able to look past the Fatui aspect, but not the lies.
He hadn't been the same since and everyone noticed. Even you, who was so desperate to cheer him up from the unknown issue that was clouding his mind. Always so ready to help him through everything, despite not knowing you were the cause of his plight. And he regrettably loved that about you the most.
"You... want to go to the ball with me? Ah... I-" "-Please? I've been wanting to go with you for a while, and I'm sure it will do us some good to catch a break." You said quickly, afraid of his rejection when you haven't even tasted the beginning of it yet. The blonde man bit his lip, his eyes meeting Lynette's for help, who simply looked away stubbornly. She had warned him of this. At this point, she wondered who's feelings she was really trying to save. Her twin brothers or her dear friends? She didn't know and hoped it would all just come to a quick, painful end.
Lyney sighed softly, unable to ever say no to you in the end, as he forced a smile to grace his lips. "Why ofcourse then! Let's make the night count!" He said in his usual grandiose tone, his heart fluttering as you gave him an excited giggle and hugged him, quickly taking your leave with a gleeful thanks. The twins watched you round a corner, the young man deflating with every step you took.
He pressed a hand against his face the moment you disappeared, his breath a little uneven and shaky. His smile wobbled until it finally dropped entirely. Even smiling had become too exhausting to do. Lynette simply stared before she shook her head and crossed her arms tightly. Someone had to be the responsible one here, and as much as it hurt her... she had to be the one to push him over the edge. "You'll end it after the ball. You have to." She whispered to him, leaning in close enough to notice the teary, near empty gaze glinting in his eyes.
He always loved too hard.
"I... ofcourse I will. You're right." He muttered in a near daze as he gathered up his cards off the floor from a previous performance. He looked so small, all his pride and grandiose having been shattered the moment he realised that his life and free will never belonged to him to begin with.
---
The days flew past him afterwards and by the time the night of the ball arrived, it was like he had woken up from a bad fever dream. He stood in the now crowded theater room, dazed and dressed in a lavish suit he only barely remembered to have put on with his siblings' help. He had attempted to stall having to come here, but his "father's" dark glare from the door way made it clear that she wasn't going to entertain his "distraction" being around him anymore either.
Fountaine's whole existence stood on the line, so how dare he hesitate? How dare he care about being heartbroken, when people are going to die?
His hazy mind nearly didn't recognize your radiating form when you approached him in absolute glee. Your hands took his gloved one's, tightly grasping them, as you spoke of your happiness to be here with him. You had dragged him outside onto one of the massive balconies, the moonlight mirrored in your beautiful eyes, and for a moment, everything around him disappeared. He could hear your words slow down, the panic kicking in full force when he realised what you were attempting to do, his mouth moving faster than his heart could stop it.
"Lyney, what I want to say is that I lov-" "-Let's dance. Let us please dance." He whispered breathlessly, his head spinning as he grasped onto your hip and took your hand into his. He couldn't process the hurt in your eyes, the way you pressed your lips together, tried mentally reasoning with yourself that he hadn't indeed just bluntly rejected you.
But he was quicker, the music filtering outside from the grand ballroom and mingling with the warm night air, as Lyney waltzed with you to it's melody. His mind was racing with so many thoughts and possibilities, his brain and heart tearing at his soul into opposite directions. He was hesitating. Despite knowing exactly what he had to do, the words just couldn't spill out yet. He gave himself time until the end of the song, his face flushing with a misplaced sense of excitement for being so close to you at last.
Yet you knew something was off about him. Perhaps it was the way he danced so clumsily. Perhaps it was the growing anxiety in his eyes that couldn't look into yours, and maybe it was the way his breath was so painfully labored, as though something was weighing down on his heart, suffocating him. Whatever it was, it made you slowly become frustrated.
Years of showing your affection to the magician seemed to have been brushed off and forgotten in that moment. And you weren't foolish enough to believe that he didn't feel the same for you. So what was he waiting for? What was holding him back? You couldn't understand, and so, when he spun you out, his hand only weakly keeping you from getting away from him, you finally uttered the words that burned on your tongue.
"Why are you hesitating?"
He looked at you for the first time since the waltz began, his eyes widening with unshed tears as he gulped, his throat so painfully dry. The melody was about to end, the orchestra leading up to it with suspense, somehow fitting for what he was about to do. He was happy that, despite everything, he was able to delude himself into thinking you two can be one, even for a single night. So perhaps his only regret was to not have been born in the right time and world for you.
"Because I can't love you. Not in this life. But I promise that nothing will stop me in the next."
The music came to an end, the wild and near deafening roar of the crowd in the ballroom filling this sobering silence between you two. It was his best performance, his best final magic trick, in which he'd make his own heart vanish. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your hand, unable to look at your shocked and tear-filled expression.
Lyney had made peace with himself and the situation in that moment, even when you wordlessly pulled away from him and quickly ran past him. He stood under the moonlight, still bowed, his hand reaching for nothing until he summoned his hat from thin air and elegantly put it on his slicked back hair. The blonde turned to look behind him as he did so, only barely seeing you vanish in the thick crowd as you wiped away your tears.
And somehow, he had it in him to smile, not out of amusement of what he had done to you, but rather at the realisation that he truly always did belong to a puppet show in a way.
What a shame that the script had no happy ending from the start.
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Alrighttt... I hope this was okay for you, Flower Anon! And sorry for taking so long, exam season is not for the weak...
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konigsblog · 8 months
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I have a somewhat important question (idk if you’ve answered it yet)!! how how do you think cod characters are? It’s a real question bc people fight sm over it :/
i don't actually think that cod characters are into hard kinks, slapping, ect... although i post concepts and ideas with that theme, it's not accurate to my portrayal of their sex life. i view majority of them as vanilla, and all my posts about them and rough kinks/sex is just a concept and a fantasy.
HOW I VIEW THE COD CHARACTERS SEX LIFE - my personal opinion.
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characters: price, ghost, gaz, soap, könig, horangi, alejandro and rudy. ↑ not my photos above.
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PRICE is straight up vanilla, nothing wrong with that at all!!! missionary and grunts through laboured breathing. praise every now and then to encourage you that it's alright, very sweet and smells of vanilla and cedarwood.
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GHOST isn't as slow as price, i think. i think he'd have faster thrusts and actually pretty silent. will praise and encourage you though, to keep you confident. a firm grip. definitely not into any hard kinks, nothing that'll hurt you as he believes sex should be pleasurable and not painful.
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GAZ and doggy still sticks with me. i do also still think he prefers anal, he's just an ass man. slow thrusts, deep and desperate though. kisses you and gives you hickeys and love bites. groans and moans through pants.
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SOAP is probably the fastest out of the 141. i feel like he'd experiment but wouldn't push you, nor himself to do something that you, or he doesn't like. frantic and hard thrusts as he teases you playfully, unable to keep it serious. kisses you all over afterwards though.
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KÖNIG is fastest out of kortac. he seems like he'd say, ‘i'll make it fit.’ and fuck you ruthlessly to get you familiar with the feeling. 100% will not force you and always looks out for any warning of discomfort throughout it, immediately stopping and sitting down beside you to talk about it and how to improve. definitely more needy after deployment, but overall seems like he prefers faster sex. (not rougher sex)
...
HORANGI seems like he'd also experiment as he doesn't seem as old as price or ghost (i'm not sure of his age.) nothing too kinky, but spices it up here and there. humilation? praising? i honestly don't know, but i do think he'd be similar to gaz, and also könig. maybe a mixture between the both as i don't have a lot to say about it, other than he'd be teasing and rougher after deployment.
...
ALEJANDRO has a medium pace. similar to price in that he's pretty vanilla, but a rougher side of him coming out when he's especially needy. i'd say faster than price, more vanilla than soap, he seems like he'd praise you, kissing and marking your neck and gets you all hot and bothered. probably plays with your pussy while fucking you, and a lot of curses in spanish as he cums.
...
RUDY is similar to gaz and price, a mixture. vanilla but always down to experiment, as long as it doesn't break any boundaries, or if it seems like something he's not willing to do. makes love instead of fucking, kisses you all over and tells you that you're doing well for him. maybe a little of alejandro as well, a slightly rougher side of his usual sex life coming out, never after deployment though as all he wants to do is love you.
...
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a/n: the reason i'm posting this is because i've seen a lot of people complaining about the cod community and the things they post, specifically about people who post dark content. i'm gonna say this once, and only once; if you don't like something, don't look at it. don't read, watch, anything, it's clearly not your thing and there's no reason to send hate to other people for liking certain things. no one's saying this is how characters act, it could be something they're into. maybe they like ghost and a gun kink, does that automatically mean ghost has a gun kink? of course not, its a concept, a fictional character, an idea.
this is my own blog, and i'm not going to let someone dictate what i post because it makes them uncomfortable. i am not responsible for what you read, you chose to read it, which is controlled by you.
TLDR: stop sending creators hate because of a concept, it's not their portrayal, it's a concept. don't read stuff you don't like, that's you're responsibility.
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meguminne · 6 months
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Love, Lost and Wandered࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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dainleif is scared of forgetting you, he would traverse the cursed plains of the irminsul to remember you. — cursed grounds that belonged to one of those damned archons just to remember you. his curse now includes you as well. im gonna be honest and tell you straight up idk how the irminsul or dainsleif work and whether or not this is accurate to their lore, i just want to write a devoted lover dain who’s willing to beg to the archons for reader like that one questline. also!! reblogs and follows are very appreciated as it lets me know you guys enjoy my writing!! . (reader x dainsleif) oct. 15 2023 part one (?)
dainsleif is too ashamed to admit this aloud but he finds himself forgetting you. who once was his most precious, his beloved; your voice, your laugh, even your smile. — the gods are merciless but were ‘kind’ enough to spare you from turning you into the hilichurls doomed to wander the earth, loyal only to their most primal instincts. they were ‘kind’ enough to spare you from the curse of immortality, the pain of living and unable to die. he wonders which fate would have been better for the both of you, but he does believe death has been the most merciful outcome.
the only thing he has of you is the memory of your name, the love he can’t forget, and the dreams you’ve left with him. — but they’re not immune to the weathering of time. he finds himself slipping, forgetting the little things that complete your image, the treasures he salvaged from the remnants of his home broken down with the centuries that came with immortality and the dreams you held with him now seem blurry as though he couldn’t fathom to sleep and dream without you. it’s been eons and yet he still hasn’t gotten used to your absence beside him.
when fate is kind enough to grant him the time to paint, his mind goes over to the idea of you and he seems to get the gist of your frame, your figure but your face only seems to be drawn as a mixture of swirls, indescribable and indistinguishable from the fog that surrounds the memory of you.
as much as he hated to admit it, he was slowly forgetting you.
but he’s not ready yet, to forget you is to let you die once and for all. he’s the only one who holds the memory of you and if he forgets, you’re gone forever. — amidst the false gods, their endless pride and the heavens; you were the angel that almost made dainsleif believe in divinity.
he’s desperate to maintain that memory of you, to keep you alive and beside him to the best of his ability for forgetting you might doom to an eternity of restless living cursed only for vengeance.
dainsleif was desperate enough to keep that memory of you that he was willing to trek onto the irminsul, the ‘sacred’ grounds of the dendro archon that records say remembers everything. the memories stored within the ley lines that have touched all of teyvat, the ley lines that rooted itself deep beneath the grounds; roots that listened to every drop of rain, whisper and wind. — he was willing to traverse and resort to the divinities he loathed just to remember you. whether it’s be by force, or if he had to kneel, beg and grovel at the archon’s feet just to be welcomed into the dreamlike plains; he would do it for his pride was nothing next to his devotion for you.
the only obstacle now was whether or not the archon, buer was willing to let a khaenri'ahn survivor step foot into the holy grounds. — or if he could even ask for help from the traveler..
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menthum-mint · 4 months
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SORRY TUMBLR PEOPLE
I HAVE BROUGHT GOODS
FEED
FOR YOU HAVE A FEAST NOW
I think
Okay but in all seriousness, i have completed two references and also made more concept designs for some others, heh-
So for now, we look to the references, because up first. The man himself.
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Tatiana Darling? Wally Qwartz? Idk. But I can say thay he is hot stu-[BOOING CHORUS]
Up next, Neon Frank and his bot boys!
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I will say that the bots do likely have 'human' forms, but I didn't feel too bothered at the time to worry about it, besides, Frank's in the spotlight, who really cares? (Some may and I'm looking at you with understanding eyes)
And now, for the last finished piece I have
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Sweethearts, the both of them🥺🥺
Oh how sweet they always are with one another
(Frank threatens to launch himseld into space to follow after Eddie when the protagonist launch him into space... And speaking of the protagonists.. Let's just say [the] (Vinyl) Neighborhood isn't quite the same without You ;) wink wink)
And now for a few concepts!
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DJ Howdy Pillar! Just a local radio show host looking to get local bands' voices heard even if they're all starting out small!
Since there is no actual shop in game, and the fact DJ Zam is an actually pretty prominent NPC (plus funny canon voice for Howdy), who else but Howdy for Zam's place? Welcome to Howdy MD people! :)
Now?
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Let me just say that B.B. Beagle and Tatiana Darling (still dunno) are still very much good friends, even despite the large age gap. To Wally, it feels like.. It feels like he knows Barnaby, but on a deeper level, like they were old friends somehow, and they were reunited.. His jokes make him laugh as if the man knew exactly what made him tick.
Weird...
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Though, dogs are trult man's best friend
And one more design (which is definitely very subject to change [to make look softer and more accurate to a youngling])
Poppy!
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Now, I still have yet to truly figure out what is going on, but I will say Poppy is definitely very much the youngest in this AU, and unlike in most other places, she is not the mother figure, she is loved ever so gently by the rest (shown by the way Frank loathes your name for having destroyed her piano. The way it tears are the heart strings of onlookers to see her precious instrument shatter, the shards scattered wildly upon the floor of the stage.
How cruel of you. She's only 9..
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Bonus obligatory Howdy Bean based off of Cofi's lil beans🥺🥺 I had to, it was legally required by law or else I'd be sniped on sight
But anyhow, I suppose this concludes the update. I'm not entirely sure if I can even explain more or if I even have more of an idea to explain, but if there are any questions, by all means send in an Ask and I'll try to answer them all without giving too much away until I can truly get things going. ;)))
See you :0!
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And sorry again for no update in forever.😭😭😭
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crystcrm · 1 year
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i was scrolling through the tags, and i got inspired by this. . .
i still haven't finished the quest yet ( but i know what happens </3 sad. ) and i live for dilfs honestly. and to think this would be my first kinda proper-ish genshin smut? something with a dilfy guy from sumeru who had 1 whole quest line.
maybe i should write for npcs more, because mm.. some of the genshin npcs are so... ♡
huffman.. wagner... timaeus started to grow on me lately... and now, jebrael.
anyway, we're kicking this off with some nice things about jebrael and a sweet kind-of-househusband-but-not-really-househusband reader!
p.s this is more of a .. drabble than an actual fic woop
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the desert's darling ;; jebrael x male reader
content ;- porn with some plot , nsfw , fluffy things , soft dom jebrael , sub reader , anal sex , size kink , breeding kink / creampie , missionary ( idk positions ) , pet names ( darling )
nsfw below the cut, minors dni.
there isn't much out in the desert, but you've made it quite inviting for travelers alike to come and rest with you. letting them rest off their fatigue in your abode in aaru village. you've met all sorts of people— some students who weren't used to the life there, adventurers who needed a place to stay, some traders from the forest and ciry beyond the walls.
you weren't exactly sent off to live there— but... you chose to.
it was a home unlike any other... even if it was too hot sometimes.
you'd provide sweet drinks, lovely food and a place to stay to any and all who needed it. it sure helped take a load off the village chief and candace— they're more than happy to have your help.
but, amongst the many patrons you'd get, there'd always be some regulars that would come on by... a certain eremite and his daughter. back when they first came by, you were quick to learn jebrael and his daughter, jeht would be common faces.
to say you were enamored was... accurate, but honestly, who wouldn't gawk and stare when there was such a fine man in their house almost every month? you honestly felt like you'd want this man in your house forever.
you'd do everything for them, not even letting them lift a finger. breakfast, lunch and dinner were always prepared everyday. laundry was done and dried, folded up for them once more to bring on their travels. if the journey was rough, who's to say your hands wouldn't work at the knots in his muscled body too?
all in all, jebrael could say you were a perfect host. in fact, it almost felt like he had a sweet wife again. or, husband he should say. archons, he felt like he wanted you more and more with each time he visited.
he wanted you so much.
when night fell upon the desert, he knocked on the room of your door. jeht was fast asleep, he was sure of it. but fortunately you were still awake. always a late sleeper, wanting to make sure your guests were always comfortable before dozing off yourself.
you had a smile on as you welcomed him into your room, one that could make his heart ache, honestly. one that made him want to feel those lips of yours. but he didn't mean to make it drop when he suddenly brought up something about payment.
payment? why would he ever have to pay you? you never wanted to take anything of his, nor would you ever accept it.
clearly he had a different idea on how to pay you.
it just clicked when he stopped calling you by name, only coming in closer, softly calling you " darling " with that huskiness in his voice.
and you crumbled and caved.
and that's how you ended up on his lap, lips pushed together in a fervent kiss. he was much bigger than you, he could handle you with ease. just the thought of it made you shudder, melting into his touch some more. and clearly it made him go mad as well, groaning against your lips as his hands began to roam your body.
you could feel his hardened length beneath that pesky piece of fabric, your own arousal clouding your mind. if he was big... surely down there would be too. you didn't have to leave it up to imagination for long though.
before long, he had you in his arms, laying down on your bed. his calloused hands that would always do tough work were surprisingly gentle with you, never rough at all. especially when he slowly fingered you open, wanting to spread you open just for him. his lips were against yours, muffling your moans as his fingers worked their magic within you. the lube definitely helped, but he had been going at it for what felt like forever— was he really that worried he wasn't going to fit...?
your head was blank when his fingers left you feeling empty, jebrael merely chuckling at your whine as he repositioned himself. you could feel his tip prodding at your entrance, pulling your legs around his waist as he looked down at you.
" darling, eyes on me, " he gently tilted your head up to look at him, a small open mouthed smile on your face as you saw him. archons, he was so handsome. you could take in his features every time, but it was so clear up close and personal like this. but the slow thrust in distracted you, a shaky moan escaping your lips.
your sounds were angelic. and your insides were heavenly— those are definitely the words he'd use to describe it.
" ..a-archons.. relax.. darling, shit.. " he was gritting his teeth, trying to distract you from the pain of his size in all the ways he thought of. sweet nothings, sloppy kisses, lustful touches. he had a hand gently wrap around your own length, stroking softly as he penetrated further and further in you. he had you feeling so many things at once and you haven't even cum yet.
jebrael was panting heavily once he bottomed out in you, looking down at where you two were connected, feeling how your warmth captured him. he just wanted to stay there for a moment and relish in it, his sweet praises raining down upon you as he rested his forehead against yours.
it wasn't long until you began begging for him— begging for more, begging for something. and you were already mewling and moaning when he slowly dragged his hips back, soft squeals forced out of you as he pushed himself back in. a slow and deep pace, a rhythm meant for feeling and taking each other in.
time went on and his pace seemed to stagger— surely his age wasn't an issue in the picture right now- but rather he was so close to the edge since earlier, it was really hard to last when you were so sexy, ravishing even. it felt more erratic, his girthy length stretching you out and reaching your deepest parts as he angled himself better— to feel every inch of you.
your loud whines and moans were muffled once again, his lips capturing yours for a final kiss as you felt your high wash over you. a warmth spilled over your stomach, a rushing pleasure running all over your body. it wasn't long until jebrael joined you in this high, sheathing himself in your deepest parts before filling you up even more with milky white.
he let himself stay longer, finding you having no qualms against it.
well, this was just the first repayment. he still had more to give back to you after months of being his sweet desert darling.
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oops, i wrote a lot more than i intended to...
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carryonafi · 6 days
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rodeo.
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ashton irwin x luke hemmings x reader; SMUT!!🔞
a/n: a little buffer while i work on the next part of where did the party go. (go read it and beg for a second part) enjoy luke being a whiny bitch and ashton in a cow costume🤍
also SHOUT OUT TO MY FAVORITE MISS SOUPERBLOOM!! she gave me tons of inspo and we’re simply just insane sluts for some poly!lashton which might be turned into a series? :] idk we have SO many ideas
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Idly sat on the kitchen island, your legs were neatly crossed over each other as Luke stood with you and you scrolled on your phone. You could feel his hand on your leg, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on your knee and slipping into the small holes in your fishnets. Nothing about this was sexual, just soft touches and quiet giggling as you waited for Ashton to finally be ready.
“God… how long does it take to put on a fuckin’ onesie?” Luke hummed, you could just barely see his blue eyes from the side of his sunglasses. He turned to look at you after eyeing the hallway, and honestly, the cloud goggle-style sunglasses looked ridiculous.
“He should be out soon,” You said with a humorous huff of breath, your eyes followed his lanky frame dressed insanely accurately to Kurt Cobain, full black outfit and those stupid sunglasses which usually just sat atop his head and pushed back his curls slick with product.
Not even another minute had passed before Luke was insisting you take another shot with him to pre-game, nothing could get you to refuse his offer with those sweet eyes and awfully whiny tone of voice. He was already tipsy, and you were sure he’d be in deeper by the time you got to the party. With this Luke there was never a moment of silence, he was happy and giggly which was majorly separated from his usual soft spoken demeanor.
However, a few minutes later there were footsteps coming down the stairs.
“Ash?! Come on, we have to leave!” You called, getting a quick excuse that he was coming in response— and in all his glory he stood in that dumb cow onesie and… fuck. Smudged black eyeliner.
You turned to look at Luke, who’s eyes were glued onto your boyfriend in complete and utter awe. If this were a cartoon, his heart would be beating straight out of his chest and you swear you would have to pick his jaw up off of the floor.
“What?” Ashton cocked an eyebrow, picking up the car keys and waving his hand at the both of you. “I know, I know. It looks fuckin’ stupid.”
“No it doesn’t.” Luke said immediately, making you snicker and bring a hand to cover your mouth.
“This cow onesie?! It’s stupid, Luke. So incredibly stupid.” Ashton quipped, both hands on his hips as he stared at the two of you expectantly.
“No, idiot. The eyeliner. He thinks you’re talking about the eyeliner.” You explained, seeing the puzzled look on Ashton’s face slowly come back into a smirk.
“Ah, gotcha.” He approached the kitchen island you were still sitting on, allowing you to get a better look at his messy makeup. “Figured I’d go back to the emo roots, y’know?”
“Yeah…” Luke mused, both ring-clad hands cupping Ashton’s cheeks so he could look straight into those darkened hazel irises. You propped your hands behind your back, leaning back on the countertop to watch your boyfriends. Ashton seemed to be enjoying this attention, the way he slowly blinked to let Luke get his fill before gently tipping the other man’s chin to press a soft kiss to his lips.
“Hey, now…” You whined, grabbing their attention and another sweet yet cocky smile from Ashton.
“Don't think I forgot about you, cowgal.” He attempted to flirt in a ridiculous sounding southern accent. You playfully rolled your eyes and felt his hands grasp at your denim covered hips, holding you in place to give you your own loving kiss.
“You’re not funny.” You placed both hands on Ashton’s chest, helping you to get down off of the counter as you and your two loyal sidekicks headed for the door.
“Shotgun!” The sound of your voice made Luke groan in frustration.
“Not fair..!” He complained, yet didn’t put up a fight.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Upon arriving, you realized that the lack of a theme between the three of your costumes wasn’t a big deal. No one really cared too much, and you all managed to fit in anyway. I mean, you looked better than the people who didn’t dress up at all. How boring?
Luke’s hand gently gripped your wrist, relying on you and Ashton behind the both of you to lead him through the crowd as he made quiet observations about everyone in the room. You made your rounds, greeting each of your friends as you walked about and watched as everyone practically fed Luke shots from the moment you walked in the door. The fact that you’d have to keep an eye on him was told with a shared look between you and Ashton, but there wasn’t a problem with that.
Ashton, being the more sociable one out of the three of you strayed off to enjoy more time with your friends and interact on your behalf.
Luke spoke into your ear, but you couldn’t hear too well, you could only see his wide eyes and pink cheeks.
“Hmm?” You reached out for his hand, but instead of him taking it he wrapped both arms around your waist.
“C’mere… ‘miss you.” He said sweetly, adjusting the sunglasses on his head to keep them from falling down.
“You’ve been right next to me all night, Lu.” Your tone of voice wasn’t so teasing, but definitely pointing out the obvious. “Come on, we should get you some water.”
Even though you insisted, Luke was still whining as you dragged him off towards the quieter part of the kitchen and searched around for anything to sober up your boyfriend.
“Baby!” You could hear the pout in his voice, turning away towards the sink until his arms wrapped around you again. “I wanna take another shot, come on… come with me please?” Luke spoke into your hair, his face pressed against the top of your head as you squirmed in order to face him again.
It was again that his sweet charm struck once more, you looked up into his bleary eyes and shook your head.
“You aren’t slowing down, are you?”
Luke immediately shook his head with a giggle.
“Fine.” You sighed, then the next thing you knew your arms were horribly linked together downing your next round of Pink Whitney which wasn’t helping you put your foot down and avoid your boyfriend getting blackout drunk.
“You look s’fucking pretty in that costume.” Luke murmured, hooking his pointer finger in the bandana you wore around your neck as his other hand squeezed your hip.
“Hush..” You scrunched up your nose at him, Luke let out another intoxicated giggle in response before leaning in to gently nip at your neck. His words never stopped, muttering against your skin and dragging the tip of his tongue over his teeth marks— the soft complaints you made for him to stop only drew soft laughter from Luke.
Your eyes closed for a brief moment, living in the thumping bass and the fleeting sensation of your boyfriend's lips on your neck. Until he drew back, flinching. You opened your eyes, seeing Ashton with both hands on Luke’s shoulders.
“You scared th’ shit outta me.” Luke complained, shifting just a little bit so he could see both you and Ashton under the now slightly purple light. These LEDs would drive you crazy.
“Sorry, honeybee.” Ashton laughed, nuzzling the side of Luke’s neck before he pressed a quick peck to his cheek. “Wanna come do another round with Mike and Cal?”
You angled your head to look over Ashton’s shoulder, seeing the other two guys standing at the kitchen island watching Ashton fetch you and Luke. Without a doubt, the both of you agreed with no second thought. The idea of your relationship with Luke and Ashton wasn’t very foreign to Michael and Calum, surprisingly they weren’t very curious and didn’t ask a lot of questions.
Time no longer mattered, what did matter was being surrounded by your friends while sitting in Luke’s lap to keep his pleas and begs to a minimum. None of it worked. This boy just couldn’t keep his hands to himself no matter how hard you tried to keep him pleased. Luke’s fingertips massaged gentle circles on your bare midriff, face buried into your neck like he hadn’t been near you in years. You tried to squirm out of his arms, but he really wasn’t having it. In fact, he made this sound when you moved that made you realize he was more turned on than you thought. Straining against those worn out jeans of his, you turned your head to whisper into his ear.
“Wanna go to the bathroom, baby?” You mutter, his head popping up from your neck to stare at you. His sunglasses were gone, they were now sitting atop Ashton’s onesie hoodie because they kept falling into Luke’s eyes and annoying him.
“Mm, mhm.” He replies, lips parted as he helped you off of his lap and stood up with you. You went to wrap your arm around his waist, but instead he was taking your hand while quickly weaving in and out through sweaty bodies and others who didn’t bother to find privacy.
A few seconds went by of your endless giggling as Luke tried a few doors, then finally found the correct one with an empty bathroom on the other side. Finally, some release of pressure for him. Luke pinned you to the counter, kicking the door of the cramped space shut and immediately attacking your lips with his own. You couldn’t stop laughing, gently cupping his cheeks and smiling because of how astounded you were. He had never been like this before— well, he had, but the poor thing would almost never act on it. The alcohol really helped him get across what he had desperately needed all night.
The sudden realization hit that Luke hadn’t locked the door, you pulled away from the kiss to look into his eyes. His pupils were dilated so wide you swore there was nothing but black enveloping his sweet icy blues, his cheeks were so pink and his eye makeup had started to smudge… the door suddenly didn't matter anymore. You pulled him back in for a kiss, those swollen, needy lips that were begging for yours again. Luke moaned against your mouth, his hands roaming your body before being interrupted once again.
The two of you froze as the door opened, within the same second you were relieved to see that it was just Ashton standing there. Two drinks in his hand, without saying a single word. After putting the drinks down on the counter, he closed the door behind him and actually locked it this time.
“Ash—“ Luke breathed, unable to finish his thought before Ashton was pulling him in for a kiss just as fierce as the one you were just receiving.
There was nothing you loved more than watching your boyfriends love each other, seeing Ashton’s thumbs hooked tightly in the belt loops of Luke’s jeans as he furiously made out with him was a very close second. You sat up on the counter, giggling to yourself as you picked up a solo cup and enjoyed the show in front of you. Luke rolled his hips forward trying to gain some friction from Ashton, it worked judging by how Luke gasped and Ashton sighed into the kiss.
“Don’t go… don’t stop.” Luke whimpered quietly as Ashton gently broke the kiss, he had to hush him as he turned to look at you.
“But look, Luke.” Ashton patted Luke’s hip, meeting your eyes which were burning with lust and slight jealousy. You wanted that attention too. “What, pretty? Y’want a turn now too?”
You nodded slowly, bottom lip pulled tensely between your teeth as you set the cup back down.
“Let’s see how good you are at riding the mechanical bull, huh?” Ashton flashed you a stupid grin, Luke started giggling like it was the funniest thing in the world while pressing his nose into Ashton’s done-up hair. It was now that you noticed the hood on the onesie, which doubled as the cow’s head, was resting on Ashton’s back.
“Can’t do that here— my gosh.” You smacked Ashton’s shoulder with the back of your hand, he playfully flinched back and sucked his teeth with a soft hissing sound.
“Ouch, you’ve got one hell of a hand. It’s from all that rope pulling, ain’t it?” There was that southern accent again, it was getting very annoying. So annoying that you had to tug Ashton in for a kiss to get him to shut up, he hummed in response and melted against your frame. He placed his hands on your thighs, playing with the frayed hems of the denim and squeezing as the kiss started to get desperate. Yours were on his chest, feeling up the gentle fur of the onesie which just made Ashton feel so cozy. It was incredible how he was surviving in that thing.
“Mmh, let me in…” Luke muttered from behind Ashton, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head against his shoulder. You briefly pulled away to look at Ashton, your smile being mirrored back at you as you appreciated the clinginess Luke seemed to possess from all of the alcohol he was allowed to have.
“So cute.” You mused, Luke starting to press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to Ashton’s neck.
“Very.” Ashton replied in the same gentle tone, tilting his head to the side to let Luke’s hair brush against his cheek. “Needy tonight, are we, honeybee?” He teased.
Luke let out another sound, long and needy like a lost puppy. The look in his eyes made you pout, pushing a sweat damp curl behind his ear. There was a mutual gaze shared between you and Ashton, this wasn’t a need for you two at the moment. You could wait until you were home to really enjoy each other, but Luke could barely keep his hands to himself… something had to be done.
“Think I should help him out?” You raised your eyebrows at Ashton, Luke perked up and eagerly tightened his grip on Ashton’s waist.
“Mm, has he been good? Seems to me like he’s been misbehaving.”
“Have not!”
“See? Up to you, though.” Ashton shrugged nonchalantly, hiding his smirk from Luke which just made you smile.
“I think he deserves to be spoiled.” You settled this battle, keeping your ‘good cop’ front as Ashton was still the more brutal one when it came to bedroom roles. He liked to tease, he liked to push to the point of uncomfortableness where as you treated Luke like the princess he acted he was sometimes.
“Please?” Luke begged, giving you those sweet puppy eyes which had Ashton stepping back to you could hop off of the counter. Luke was already back against the wall, fumbling with the zipper of his jeans and hastily tugging at his skinny jeans.
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna do yet, baby.” You giggled, even though your next moves were predictable. Luke huffed and placed his hands at his sides, allowing you to do the work as you got to your knees in front of him. Ashton stood at Luke’s side, tilting his chin to meet his lips.
“Let our girl do all the work to make you feel good… don’t focus on helping.” He mumbled, lips brushing against Luke’s as he spoke which earned another needy whimper from the blond. Luke kissed Ashton again, humming when he felt both his jeans and boxers come down.
Their make-out session was bound to be broken the second your lips were pressed to his tip, moaning out helplessly to Ashton who gently stroked his jaw.
“Shh, relax. I know it feels good, don’t you love that mouth?” Ashton only fueled that desperate fire within Luke’s chest, he felt like he was about to burst at any moment because of how badly he was trying not to look at you, move his hips— nothing. He was trying so hard to be good, trying so hard just to stand there and take it. You had barely done anything and Luke was already in shambles.
Now, your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock and gently sucking, this is where he started to get used to the feeling. Those whimpers turned into rough sighs through his nose while Ashton placed loving kisses to the corner of his mouth, Luke wanted more than anything to tangle his hands in your hair… but he knew the consequences he would receive from Ashton if he did.
You took him further into your mouth, closing your eyes to focus as you heard the volume of his cries increase again.
“Oh my god,” He tilted his head back against the tile wall, lip twitching in pleasure as he panted out your name and earned more attention from Ashton. Your cycle continued, bobbing your head, swallowing around him, driving him crazy with a flick of your tongue. The recipe for his release, and you could tell he was close. How his hips jerked and his breathing picked up, his hands which were still at his sides balled into fists as he felt his control slipping out of his grasp.
“Better not see your fuckin’ ass leave the wall again.” Ashton scolded, grabbing Luke’s chin so he was looking at him again.
“Sorry— ‘m sorry, so close…” He whispered, voice hoarse from the effort he was putting in to contain himself. “So fucking close.” Luke repeated, moans following each word he spoke. He was waiting for the clear from Ashton, even though he didn’t technically need it.
“Not on her face. Don’t ruin the makeup.” Ashton finally said after a few moments of silence, he knew Luke needed that guidance when he was in a state like this. He couldn’t go without being told what to do, it was like he craved it, needed it so badly that he couldn’t think for himself.
That was also your cue to not pull off of Luke, stilling as you felt that intoxicating twitch before he came down your throat with a breathy whine of relief. It sounded like he hasn’t had an orgasm in months, when he was cumming in the same place this morning and coating your mouth for the second time today. You could say he was pretty spoiled, even if Ashton pretended like he was an extreme hard-ass.
Poor thing, his body went weak against the wall. Ashton had given him his sunglasses back and placed them on his head to push his curls back, you finishing up the job by cleaning up and helping him back into his jeans. Ashton was better at tending to him, he knew just the right words to say and how to treat him… you were better at straightening up and making sure everyone looked like nothing had happened. You were now turned towards the mirror, fixing your shirt and sneaking glances of the two boys behind you softly whispering to each other.
“Can you handle yourself for half an hour longer?” You turned to look at Luke, it was meant to be a bit of a tease, but he nodded and gave you a lazy smile.
“Definitely.” He agreed, Ashton chuckled and gently squeezed his hip before kissing his cheek. However, you paused with the familiarity of a song thumping from the main room. You looked at the other two puzzled, and in turn they gave you the same expression.
“What’s that face for?” Ashton furrowed his eyebrows, and the fact that your face lit up didn’t help at all.
“Do you seriously not hear that?!” You squealed, reaching out to grab both of their hands to lead them towards the door. “Blackout? Brokencyde is playing?! This is my favorite house party song ever!”
It finally clicked for Ashton, although it did take poor Luke a few more seconds to figure out exactly what you were excited about because he had that dumbfounded look on his face. Ashton started to laugh, having to help you open the door as you barreled down the hall and dragged the two with you. Luke was laughing as well, only for the reason that you were so insistent on getting out onto the dancefloor so you could show off. At least he had the promise of more treatment at home, knowing he could behave.
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dangthatscrayz · 1 month
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heyhey its me again! since smitten’s route ended with them burning, what would the other options (deconstructed and getting yoinked) have looked like? like what were your ideas for those?
also also! will the next part be a segment with The Long Quiet holding the Smitten vessel just like with The Shifting Mound in the og game? can we get a bit of a description for what that would look like or is that too much of a spoiler
Instead of hands you’re gonna see a lot wings, at least for the incomplete version (still for the complete long quiet but we won’t see that for a while)
A lot of eyes too, biblically accurate long quiet. I know the long quiet is going to look a lot like the monster (who is my hero design) because in the of game I think that both the hero and long quiet look pretty much the same, but like mirror reflect light around them like if they have the smitten they get pink, you’ll see this when you see the complete long quiet when they pull up a vessel the colors will change to match it and change back when picking up another one.
I do think that like the shifting mound they will look pretty angelic and godlike in this form but different ofc.
You can see here that it’s wings instead of hands that the long quiet is using to yoink the vessels
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And the closer you get to the long quiet/ the more the vessels change the more angelic they get like the betrothed looks like a seraphim compared to the smitten who looks pretty normal
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The further you go into the woods the freakier
Also idk if anyone has seen this yet but the little cloak they start off with has the same pattern as the long quiet
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minquiec · 9 months
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The Grim Reaper and The Swallow Au
- unproofreaded unchecked everything I wrote this at 1 am yall
(The grim reaper idea is inspired from goblin hahshahsh)
---
Basically the concept of grim reaper is that they used to be people but died and became reapers (idrk why yet)
They retain some of their personalities and stuff but they essentially cannot remember who they are and can't/or unable to question who they used to be
They're also wired to focus on their sole purpose which is to take things who have died into the afterlife (includes animals)
But hb is an exception while he does do what he's supposed to do, he isn't fully committed to it (so that it's still somewhat movie accurate personality with the whole not following order thing HAHSHA)
So essentially the afterlife entities don't exactly like him and humans (that r on verge of death) don't like him cause uknow no one wants to DIE (minus those few exceptions where it's like a nice old grandma dying of old age ueueu)
In terms of what jia is she's like,,,idk a swallow that can shape shift (some magic bs and animal spirits and stuff)
In this world, there are like a select few animals that can shape shift/are sentient (BECAUUUSEE they also used to be humans but we're reborn. The idea is human --> died unfairly --> given a second chance to turn into a shape shifter --> if they do good/don't do anything outrageously bad in the shape shifter life then they are able to be reincarnated into humans in the next life [the bar isn't very high bc they died unfairly in the previous life.])
The animals are primarily animals and can't maintain human forms for that long and generally takes alot of energy to do so
They can also see other supernatural entities but doesn't mean they are necessarily friendly with all of them
So one day hb and jia meet cause yknow Heeheehaahaa
And bc hb is used to other things being scared of him (grim reaper stuff) he's a little confused why she hasn't run/flown away yet.
"aren't you scared, little dove?"
ASKKSKDKDKDK
And jia just like IM A SWALLOW 😨
But basically jia isn't scared cause generally swallows r optimistic and all around good vibes all the time becaaauuusueee swallows, as google says, represent good luck, safe travels, happiness, and positivity.
And she's like haha that's cause ik it's not my time to go yet!!
And he's like well how would you know that
And she's just cause I have good luck
(she's so dumb istg I love my daughter)
So now they start an odd friendship between the grim reaper and a swallow 🔥
And then to the angst bits
Basically it's probably at the very end of their time tgt
And it's approaching winter and jia is supposed to migrate
But she doesnt
Cause she wants to stay here beccccauuuuuuussssseeee she's on her last legs
She dying brouh so it means if she migrates she'll never see him again
But hb doesn't know this cause grim reapers are only told of the few minutes before the exact moment someone dies
And some other shid I haven't figured out happens and basically how they end is like two ways
One is the reincarnation pathway woohoo where jia dies as a swallow and hb takes her to the afterlife (sadly) and after a couple of hundred years probably she is reincarnated but he can never approach her again like he did before
Oorrrr we can go with
Hb essentially refuses to take her into the afterlife (cause he doesn't rlly follow his duties like I said) and both of them are by other grim reapers
At least they die tgt amirite 😄
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boyfhee · 1 year
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CHANCES AT ROMANCE : jake sim
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w. some guy passing comments ; 1.27k
note. i might write more parts and make this jake au thing idk PS IM SORRY IF THIS SUCKS i forgot how to write help
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“so, you come here often?” is not the question you expected you hear on a nice monday morning, especially in a voice that belongs to the person you’ve been avoiding actively for five days now. 
“sometimes,” it’s a short response, words that left your mouth unwillingly to save yourself from giving other’s ideas that you’re being rude, or more accurately, in hopes that he would leave once you’ve answered all your questions. 
“guess i have to pay attention now,” he chuckles with a menacing tone, shifting the madrid bar stool he has been sitting on a little closer to yours, arms almost brushing against yours. “don’t want to miss on such a beautiful sight,” 
and, jake has been observing the scene for a while now. 
step by step, his hands busy with preparing the drink while his eyes were fixed upon you or rather, the uninvited stranger sitting next to you, who has been making you uncomfortable since the minute you arrived in the cafe. and, jake can think of two options. 
one, to call the manager, report him on this inappropriate incident and have the guy thrown out as he should, and second, to go out and rescue you himself. his neurons are signalling towards the first choice, telling him to take out his phone and ring the manager because any other sane person would do the same, in order to solve the situation without creating a scene. his mind is diverting towards the first option but his heart is telling him to go with the other, because it’s you, the one who sits two rows in front of him in english lessons, the one who once paid for his lunch because his card kept declining, the one who has been on his mind ever since the day you first came to the cafe. 
“by the way,” jake’s attention goes back to you and the guy next to you. “we share theology,” and his fists clench at the sight of him trying to wrap his arms around you, making you visibly uncomfortable, so much that anyone out there would notice. 
“i don’t think so,” you reply, shifting away from him. 
“of course you don’t, you sit in the front so you wouldn’t know who sits at the back of the class,” and he sounds a little annoyed, maybe it’s because you keep avoiding him, answering in phrases instead of indulging into the conversation as much as him. jake watches you press your lips into a thin line. he doesn’t care that he’s taking too much time to prepare your order. “but i watch you everyday,” 
you push him away, or try to, a slight push that seems to irritate him even more. “uh, you’re too close,” 
“c’mon, you—” 
“i’d appreciate it if you don’t get too close to my girlfriend,” and jake doesn’t care if he even gets to make anyone’s order because at this point, getting the guy out of the cafe is his first priority. god, if only he would punch that asshole’s face, he would. 
“girlfriend?” the annoyance in his voice intoxicates every word that leaves his mouth, a sharp gaze as if they would cut right through everyone present in the room; jake could only laugh at the audacity he has. “hey, is he your boyfriend?” 
“why, do you not believe me?” jake rests his hand upon your shoulder, a gesture that translates the words he has been meaning to say, an action that tells you that you are safe, and you’ll be fine, because jake can handle the situation, and so, you relax under his touch, texting your friend to come pick you up from the cafe. “you can hear it from her if it’ll help you sleep better at night,” 
“you should’ve told me you had a boyfriend,” the guy stands up, half embarrassed, half in rage, and jake might even get in a fight with him by the end of the day judging from the looks he’s giving the boy standing behind you. you sit there frozen, afraid that things would escalate to something much bigger, but jake’s grip fastens around your shoulder and yet still ever so gentle that maybe, it’s the reason why you feel at ease as every second passes. 
“i told you to leave me alone. boyfriend or not, no means no,” you speak up, hoping what happened today won’t repeat itself. “and yes, he is my boyfriend,” hoping that he wouldn’t show up in front of you now that you’re calling him your boyfriend and playing right into his games. 
and jake doesn’t waste another minute with your order, immediately getting back to his job while making sure to tend back to you once again. it would be a lie to say you haven’t been coming to the cafe for him, though it wouldn’t be a complete truth either. a part of the reason was the menu that suits your exact taste, and another part would be jake, who fits your taste in men as well, to put it simply. 
you met jake at orientation lecture before your classes started officially. well, you saw him sitting in front of you with his friends, not that you know their names but you think you will once you get closer to jake. the second time you saw jake was in your english lecture and it felt as if suddenly, you were at the line between staying afloat and drowning in your ocean-deep thoughts. although jake sat behind you, you could feel yourself getting conscious about everything you did to not come off as someone weird and crazy, and you almost had your chances at asking him to come to a science museum with you before the whole ordeal with your so-called ‘admirer’ happened. 
having him as your fake boyfriend on a nice monday morning is not what you expected, but it’s not an all-bad start after all. 
“i’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” he walks back to the counter, standing in front of you with your order in his hands while proceeding to handle the receipt and other formalities, and it would make him really embarrassed if you got even a slight idea that he’s doing meaningless things just to buy more time with you.  
“thank you,” you mutter. 
he puts his hands on the table, leaning over it before looking right into your eyes, and it’s surprising how you weren’t aware that his looks were this captivating. “does that happen everyday?” 
there’s a slight hint of concern in his words, as if he’s not asking the question just for the sake of it, or just to create a good impression, because if he had known, jake would’ve already pretended to be your boyfriend and make sure the situation didn’t drag you along with it for days or more. “for the past few weeks, yeah,” 
“your drink,” a faint gratitude falls off your lips, eyes falling upon the receipt to see his number scribbled in his messy handwriting right above the order details. and this wasn’t how you were expecting to get his number but again, you don’t have complaints. “call me if he shows up again,”
“yeah,” your lips curl into a smile, with his’ mirroring your actions, waving you a small goodbye as you stand up, grabbing your bag and drink. you stuff the receipt in the pocket of your jacket, ready to leave with something blossoming inside of your heart, perhaps the feelings that you’ve been trying to suppress until the right time comes; and now that it’s here, maybe it’s time for you to take your chances at romance. “see you around, jake,” 
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moonflowerchanniesgirl · 10 months
Text
Not Yet Spring
Not Yet Spring
Pairing: chan x fem reader (established relationship)
Genre: angst, comfort, healing
Warning: talks of depression, healing, loss of close friend, mental health struggles, implied loss of friend due to suicide,that incredibly disrespect comment during Chan’s vlive, reader curses, reader threatens violence ( does not act upon it)
Summary: Chan struggles after losing a friend and you try your best to help him.  Healing is never easy and grief sometimes never goes away but the two of you do your best for each other.
( same pair as in Winters Frost and Winter Breaks but can be read alone) 
Word Count: 1.6k
Authors note: this is not an accurate representation of stray kids but an interpretation based on an idea that stems from them.
This is the same pair from Winter breaks and Winter frost but this can be read as a stand alone 
This makes references to the tragic passing of Chan’s friend but I do not name him out of respect. 
This was so hard to write but I tried my best. In all honesty the best thing to do would have been to get the reader to help Chan get a therapist but after previous dealings idk how much I trust therapists in Korea. If you are struggling, healing is hard and takes time, take all the time you need and try your best to heal in healthy way.
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“Come here ye?” Immediately at those words your false face of composure crumpled up and you dived into Chan’s arms. He gently patted the back of your head as you sobbed into his shoulder. Your loud cries almost echoed in the otherwise silent studio. Chan was silent but you felt the little tremors that indicated he was also crying. As the tears left you, so did your energy and soon enough your loud cries became soft hiccups muffled by the wet fabric of Chan’s hoodie.
When you first heard the news you didn’t believe it. You didn’t know him personally but you had greeted each other a couple times before. You remembered the shy smile he gave you before he and his band mates were whisked away by their manager. They were bickering and laughing about something that you couldn’t quite make out. You were once again hit with the reminder that you would never know what someone was going through just by looking at them.
“How are the boys handling it?” You asked as you pulled slightly away from Chan to look him in the face. You gently wiped at the tears on his face with your sleeve. 
“They’re all together right now comforting each other and I’m having them check in every hour. I already got management to cancel our next few schedules so everyone has time to process and mourn.” Chan choked a little at the word ‘mourn’ and you felt your heart clench painfully.
“How are you handling it?” You asked as you reached for his hands to take them in your own.
“I’m not sure, I think I’m still in shock? How… can he … just be gone?” For the first time in your life you saw Chan look utterly lost and you squeezed his hands.
“Why were you still alone in the studio Channie?” You had thought Chan would have made his way back to the dorm to be with the boys when you called, you didn’t expect him to say that he was still in Chan’s Room all alone. 
“I was here when I heard the news and then I guess I’ve been busy calling the boys and calling our managers and…”
“You haven’t had a moment for yourself to process things yet?”
“I didn’t want to go back to the dorm before I figured out how to be there for the boys and be strong.”
“Oh Channie,” you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in the strongest hug you could muster. “You don’t always have to be strong, it’s so hard to be strong about losing someone.”
It is,” Chan whispered as you felt his arms wrapped around you. “It’s not fair,” he said ever so faintly.
“It’s not,” you agreed. It wasn’t fair that someone so young and bright was no longer someone that you both could ever meet again. Chan’s shoulders shook more and you held him tightly in your grasp scared that any moment he might slip away. 
“I wish there was something I could have done, something I could have said.”
You understood how Chan felt, those were the same feelings you felt when you lost someone close to you. The fear and guilt that stemmed from wishing you could have changed things so that they would still be here with you. There was nothing you or Chan could do to change what had already happened and you understood how soul crushing that was.
You held Chan as he cried himself to sleep and you gently positioned him so he laid somewhat comfortably on the sofa. You wiped the remaining tears on his sleeping face and just sat on the floor watching how his chest rose and fell with each breath. 
Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took it out to see Han calling you.
“Hello?” You answered softly, careful not to wake Chan.
“Noona? Are you with Chan Hyung right now?” Han asked and you could hear from how  hoarse his voice was that he had been crying.
“Yeah, he’s taking a little nap right now, when he wakes up I’ll take him back to the dorm.”
“Okay that’s good, we wanted him to come back as soon as the news broke but… we knew he needed time to… process,” Han said and you could almost picture him shaking his head. “Is he okay?” 
“Everything is still a little raw but I’m with him,” you didn’t want to just say that he was okay and trivialize the pain that he was feeling. “How are you guys doing?” 
“A lot of crying, bring some packs of tissues when you come over because we’re running out. But we… are a bit lost, a bit confused and just majorly sad I guess.”
“It’s hard to process but remember you guys need to take care of yourselves.”
“Yeah we know, Minho Hyung is already ordering the others around to help him make soup. Take care of Chan Hyung.”
“Of course.” 
“When does it start to feel real?” Chan asked suddenly as you were driving him back to the dorms.
“Sometimes it never does, like there are still times where I think that maybe it was just a horrible prank and at any moment he’s going to show up at my studio to work on a song together. Other times it’s too real, so real that I don’t know what to do with myself. The emptiness never quite gets filled.” You and Chan knew that you didn’t always  handle the pain and sadness you felt in the healthiest way but you wanted nothing more than to help Chan with his pain. “A lot of times I remind myself that even if he isn’t physically here, the memories of him will forever be with me.” 
“It hurts to even think about… anything.”
“I know and for a lot of people the pain doesn’t lessen, you just kinda grow numb to it. I don’t believe time heals all wounds but it does help dull the pain.” You placed your hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze. The rest of the drive was silent, you glanced at Chan every once in a while to see him simply staring into space. 
“Channie I know you love your fans but I swear to fucking god that I’m going to punch the one that asked you that right in the fucking face.” You were seething in anger as you pulled Chan into your chest, the two of you lying on his bed. You had watched him go live for Chan’s Room from a corner of his actual room, out of view of the camera. Things went really well until you heard Chan read out the question “were guys close?”
“I guess I never really mentioned it so they didn’t know,” Chan mumbled into the fabric of your hoodie.
“They had no right asking that and you had no need to justify your sadness,” you tried to hold yourself back but you could feel the angry tears slide down your face. 
“Baby why are you crying?” Chan asked as he slid up so his face was next to yours and he pressed his forehead into yours.
“Because you won’t cry for yourself, you carry the weight of the world and everything unfair on your shoulders like you think you need to and that you deserve to. You don’t Channie, you don’t,” you turned around because you knew that if you kept looking at him you would fully break down. You felt his arms encircle your waist and faintest kiss on the back of your neck. “If you apologize because I’m crying right now I will punch you in the face along with that fan,” you lightly threatened through your sniffles.
“You know me so well, what did I do to deserve you in my life,” Chan spoke quietly with a soft chuckle at your threat.
“You did nothing but exist and that was enough to draw me to you.”
“I love you,” he said as he gave you a soft squeeze.
“I love you too.”
“It really doesn’t get easier,” he said suddenly as the two of you were in the studio trying to workshop a song for the next stray kids album. The melody was soft and almost nostalgic in a way you didn’t know how to describe in words.
“It doesn’t,” you agreed, knowing what he meant.
 You wished that he had more time to himself to work out his emotions and to just be sad but he didn’t. The boys had their comeback and they were already trying to put together another album. They could only push back and cancel so few things before the company and some of the boys got anxious about timing. They were at the height of their careers and nobody on the team wanted to take too much of a break in fear of that height sliding down. There was only so much you could do or say to convince Chan of anything otherwise so you spent your days just by his side. Making sure he ate his meals and at least put his phone away at a sorta healthy hour to try and get some sleep. Sleep didn’t come easy to either of you but at least the two of you could cuddle and talk about nothing and everything all at once.
“It hurts less but it still hurts,” he sighed as he closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair.
“Take all the time in the world you need Channie, as long as you’re not hurting yourself or others then there’s no wrong or right length of time it takes to heal.”
“I wish one day I would wake up and it just stops hurting,” Chan said as he leaned his head against your shoulder.
“I can’t promise that, but I can promise that one day you’re going to be able to remember their smile and the happier memories more clearly than the painful ones,” you turned to give him a quick kiss on the head as you felt his body relax into your shoulder.
“I really hope so.”
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