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dixons-sunshine · 1 year ago

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I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences. Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

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tamoscringecorner · 29 days ago

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NSFW SHADOWVANILLS HCS!!1!! (Seek Jesus, Freaks)

-During it, PV heavily enjoys teasing SMC by squeezing his hand tightly and making a teasing comment like "It's frankly surprising how a small cookie can act like he's larger than the world but isn't even as big as me?"

-PV also sometimes, if he is feeling annoyed, grips SMC's hair and forces him to look at him while making comments about his appearance, like "My my, bluebird..your blush is almost as blue as the peonies in my garden.."

-SMC secretly has a weakness for being called feminine pet names which PV only finds out when he accidentally sees it in his "Ultimate deceitful Book of Lies" (It's actually just a lame journal with bad sketches and long monologues about how amazing he is)

-Just to lightly make fun of him PV says stuff like "my pretty girl.." or "Sweetheart" which in response SMC typically just tells him to "Shut up before he swears on the witches he will destroy him?!" while covering his face with his hair.

-PV is the #1 coddler of SMC, and it gets even softer around him during it. Like constantly holding him close to his chest, letting him do whatever he wants most of the time, or letting him be as rough as he wants with PV even if he is covering him in bruises or marks

-SMC claims he is a "total top!" or at least a power bottom but in reality, PV is a soft dom and is often in control because Shadow MIlk is "too good to do such effort or work!"

-SMC is extremely stubborn and sometimes won't admit to not being able to go on anymore or finishing due to him not having as high of libido as PV

-SMC is extremely touch-starved and even the most simple touches can make him shudder and already uh.." on" but he has a weakness for neck touches, his upper thigh being squeezed, or anything to do with biting. Being bitten, biting PV's neck, anything and everything.

-SMC is noisy and finds it humiliating so to cope he often bites the pillows or buries his face in them, so just out of pure spite PV often knocks off the pillows or just chucks them over his shoulder so if SMC wants to be quiet he has to bite down onto PV's neck or fingers. However if he needs to do so PV forces him to look him in the eye to force him to admit it, just to tease him

-During it, SMC often cusses PV out and gives him insults and vague threats like "I'll make you pay I swear to the witches themselves will destroy you when you are done here, PV!?! . PV never really takes this seriously and just nods his while going "mhm, will you now?"

-When they are done PV always drapes his cloak over the two of them and lets him cuddle up to him to his heart's content while he cleans him up by brushing through his hair with a brush or his fingers

ekgksg..er er I don't know blejdskkfksjfjdks you all need to find some JESUS, not gay depressed cookies?! Who am I kiddin I'm preachin to the damn choir-

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ravenclaw-jojo · 3 months ago

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Fandom: LaDS Pairings: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Sylus x reader, Caleb x reader, Rafayel x reader Tags: Fluff, slight suggestiveness in Raf's (if you squint) A/N: I needed to stop focusing on the negativity in my life, so here's fluff to compensate <3 I do have other HCs that I'm slowly gathering and writing so don't forget to keep a look out for those :eyes:

=𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣= 🌟

-If he’s asleep don’t count on comfort, it takes an Earthquake to wake him. You’ve made plenty of jokes that any future offspring will more than likely have to wake you up for overnight emergencies.

-HOWEVER, if he does happen to notice or is awake when you’re asleep, he’d be very concerned™. -100% the kind to light a relaxing aromatherapy candle before waking you up for cuddles. -He’ll talk you through the nightmares and remind you that you’re safe in his arms. -Would attempt shadow puppetry with you, insisting that his is a bunny and not a dog. -You fall back asleep to him making up stories about your shadow puppet characters.

-If you’re too shaken up to go back to bed, he will insist you both get up to make the fluffiest waffles (you’re taking charge- of course) and (he) will brew the strongest coffee that your descendents will feel that caffeine energy.

=ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖= ☃️

-Immediately starts to massage your back, neck, brows or temples. -The kind to hum some lullaby for you though he’s very careful about only doing this when you’re half-awake (you’re less likely to remember it that way and he can always blame it on your dreams). -If it’s a really bad nightmare, he will wake you up from it, although in the gentlest manner that you almost thought was part of your dream.

-Would keep a dream journal just for you. You’d find it one day when you were going through the bookcase to find a specific guidebook for an arctic mission. -Related to the dream journal, he’d be the kind to research into your nightmares, coming up with before bedtime routines that would deter them.

=𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤= 🐦‍⬛

-Would envelope you in the World’s Best Bear Dragon Hug. -On that note, would also rock you back to sleep. -Gladly listen to you talk about it if you choose to, his fingers combing through your hair in that gentle way akin to someone scratching a cat’s ear. -Has a specific record made for you, compiled of all the classical music you found soothing and plays it before bedtime through the stenograph in the bedroom. -He’s got copies of this specific record in every single one of his safe houses and has personally seen to it that the tracks were downloaded onto your phone so you can have it with you when you’re on a mission.

Bonus: You accidentally wiped your phone one night and Sylus sent Mephisto to you so they could ‘sing’ to you instead.

=ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕓= 🍎

-His Caleb-Spidey-Senses start to tingle each and any time you have a nightmare. He’ll by your side in no time. -Another member of Team Hugging It Out, and will let you cling to him. -When you were younger, he would sleep on the floor of your room, his hand gently holding yours to reassure you that he’s still there. And will always be there. -Now that you’re older, he’d still hold your hand, fingers gently tracing his name over and over the inside of your wrist until you drift back to sleep.

-If sleep evades you, he’s the type to come up with make-belief stories with you. Reminding you of simpler times.

Bonus: Little did you know, he’s secretly keeping track of all these stories and turning them into a little bedtime book for your future kids.

=ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝= 🧜

-100% bringing out the damn singing bowls. -It’s fine though, he’s low-key a skilled musician with it and it’ll sometimes soothe you back to sleep.

-On nights the nightmares are particularly bad, he would run you a warm bath with your favorite soothing scents. Perhaps include a playful bathbomb that has glitter that’ll stick to your skin. -Already has a daybed in the bathroom by the bathtub where he could spend hours sketching or painting you relaxing in the bath. -He COULD, he wouldn’t because he’s also worried about getting you sick – and how could you possibly be his Miss Bodyguard if you weren’t feeling your best?

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

ravenclaw-jojo™️2025 writing | No copying, plagiarizing or translations without expressed permission.

#love and deepspace #lads #lads caleb #lads sylus #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lads zayne #yoyo rambles #lads headcanons #I needed cuteness

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yesihaveaobsession · 8 months ago

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A Break in the Chaos

Alastor x female!reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by art burnout, the reader (you) reluctantly takes a break when Alastor creates a calming escape. Through his unconventional help, you find the peace she needs to regain focus and clarity.

A/N- REQUESTED BY: @jormungandr-42, I hope you like <3 !!

You were an artist, an artist whose work was more of a side job in addition to helping Charlie manage the hotel. It was something you enjoyed, and you made a little cash while doing it. You could call it a hustle. Today, though, it wasn’t your favorite. You had so many commissions to get done, and you were still staring at a blank canvas.

Needless to say, it had been a long day, and the dim light in your room had been flickering as you stared at the pile of crumpled art commissions and scrapped ideas scattered across your desk. Your hand trembled slightly as you picked up your pencil, only to let it fall back down with a sigh. You were mentally exhausted. You spun slowly in your desk chair, the rhythmic motion trying to soothe your frazzled mind, but it did nothing to calm the pressure mounting inside you.

As you glanced up at the ceiling, as if praying for answers from the old, faded painting above your desk, you could feel the tension in your shoulders, the stress building like an unstoppable force. How could you possibly finish all of this? You thought, feeling the weight of every brushstroke and sketch.

From the doorway, a familiar voice broke through the silence. "Well, well, well, my dear. It seems like you’re in quite the... predicament," Alastor said with his signature smugness, his eyes gleaming with mischief as always. His presence filled the room with that unsettling yet strangely comforting energy.

You groaned and spun in your chair again, this time more forcefully. "Yeah, no kidding, Alastor. I’ve got a mountain of commissions to do, and I can’t even pick up a pencil without feeling like I'm drowning," you muttered. Frustration and a hint of tiredness were clear in your voice. Alastor chuckled, and his grin widened.

“Oh, darling, you do know how to make things sound dramatic. Perhaps you need a little... help?" Alastor was still standing in the doorway, leaning forward with his claws resting in front of him on his microphone. You could tell there was curiosity and amusement in his tone, and you didn’t even have to look.

"Help?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you spun in your chair again. "You’re not helping. You’re just standing there and watching me," you snapped, clearly agitated. "I need to finish this, not have you stand there being all... mysterious and making everything worse." You leaned back more in the chair, which made a noise. You could feel the heat in your cheeks from how annoyed you were, and the last thing you needed was Alastor being his usual teasing self.

Alastor raised an eyebrow and gave you a mock pout, though he still wasn’t hiding his amusement. “Oh, how tragic. I do so enjoy your fiery spirit, but surely you can’t deny that my mere presence is quite enthralling?”

Finally, picking up your head, you shot him a pointed glare. “You know, if you actually helped me with these damn commissions instead of making sarcastic remarks, I wouldn’t be losing my mind right now!”

His response was only a thoughtful hum, his hands now behind his back. “You do seem a bit... overwhelmed, dear. Perhaps you need a different kind of assistance.” Was he flirting with you? Or were you being delusional? Maybe you were just tired. The only response you could muster was a huff, and you turned away from him back to that blank canvas, feeling the pressure of burnout press down harder. “I don’t need help with anything, Alastor. I just need to finish these. But I can’t focus. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

The room fell silent for a long moment, and maybe, just maybe, for a split second, you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Alastor would say something useful. But instead, you felt a sudden weight lift off your shoulders as the air shifted slightly, the tension easing just enough for you to breathe.

You blinked and looked back at him. He was now somehow in front of you. His smile was softer than usual. "Perhaps the real help you need... is a little time away from all this pressure. A moment to breathe and find that spark again," Alastor suggested.

As much as you hated admitting it, he might have had a point. You were running yourself ragged, drowning in commissions, almost forgetting why you loved art in the first place. “…Maybe,” you sighed, feeling the exhaustion seep deeper into your bones. "But what do you know about taking a break, huh? You’re always on."

Alastor chuckled. “Even a demon needs a moment to catch their breath now and then, darling.” You sat there for a moment, your gaze falling back to your desk. The mess of unfinished art sat in front of you, but something about Alastor’s presence made it seem less insufferable. Maybe a break wouldn’t be the worst thing after all. “…Fine, maybe I’ll take a little break,” you grumbled, slumping in your chair, though you couldn’t fully suppress the hint of a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Excellent choice, my dear. I’d be more than happy to help you unwind.” Alastor smiled. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Ridiculously helpful," he quipped back, giving you a theatrical bow. You shook your head, but at least, for the moment, the weight of artistic burnout seemed just a little lighter. Alastor hovered nearby and watched your every move like a hawk. Although you agreed you would take a break, you were still sitting at your desk. He knew you were hesitant. "A true break requires more than just stepping away from your work for a few seconds. It’s all about a change of scenery... and atmosphere."

You eyed him warily. “What are you getting at?” Alastor snapped his fingers, and the room shifted. The cluttered, dim space morphed into something entirely different—a cozy, dimly lit parlor with plush chairs and a warm, inviting atmosphere. A crackling fire roared in the hearth, casting a soft glow over the room. A velvet chaise lounge appeared next to a small table.

You blinked in surprise, half-expecting the room to revert back to your messy space. But it didn’t. The warmth of the fire and the soft scent of something sweet filled the air. The tension in your shoulders loosened just a fraction. You had to admit, the sudden shift was… oddly soothing.

“What… what is this?” you asked, incredulous.

“A perfect place to take a proper break,” Alastor replied smoothly, his grin never wavering.

"A little relaxation before you dive back into the trenches of your art. After all, you need a clear mind to continue, don’t you?” Alastor said, and you just stood there and looked at him. Why was he helping?

“You underestimate the power of comfort, my dear. It’s just as important as hard work. Without it, one can easily crumble beneath the weight of their own expectations.” You raised an eyebrow at him, suddenly noticing the hint of sincerity in his words. You hadn’t expected that from the Radio Demon, who was often more interested in his own amusement than anyone else’s troubles. “You value my well-being? I thought you just liked watching me run myself ragged.”

Alastor smirked. “Oh, I do find your struggles... entertaining, yes. But that doesn’t mean I want you to break under the pressure, dear. Where would the fun be in that? If you’re unable to perform at your best, how could you give me your finest work?” He gave a dramatic sigh. “Such a disaster that would be.”

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“That’s what you love about me,” he replied with a grin.

“Alright,” you said, settling further into the chaise, “I’ll admit it. This is nice.” You glanced at Alastor, who was still watching you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “But it doesn’t fix my art block.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it gives you the space to fix it. Sometimes, the best ideas come when you’re not drowning in stress. Just remember, you’re allowed to rest. And when you’re ready to go back, your mind will be clearer, your hands steadier.”

“I hate to say it,” you murmured, staring into the flames, “but you’re right. I needed this. You’re not as useless as I thought.”

Alastor’s grin widened, “A compliment from you? How delightful. I do enjoy helping when I can." You snorted. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I’m sure I won’t,” he said with a wink. “But perhaps next time, you’ll allow me to help you before you reach the breaking point.”

You just smiled and shook your head and leaned your head back against the head rest, and closed your eyes, taking in the peaceful atmosphere, all thanks to him.. you guessed.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #i have an obsession

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inexplicifics · 9 months ago

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Hiya! I was wondering if you’d been having any luck making the Cats Among Wolves bunnies cooperate lately? If not, that’s cool. Plot bunnies are not the most cooperative creatures, but I figured I’d ask. I was also curious about what the writing process usually looks like for you if you were willing to explain it a bit. Do you tend to jump around between projects just following the inspiration, or do you write out at least a whole scene or chapter before letting yourself move around? How many times do you usually send a fic to Rose for betaing before you feel ready to release it? I always find different people’s processes so interesting.

So Cats Among Wolves is mostly not cooperating at the moment - I am weirdly low on Brain and the bunnies are not doing long-form very well just now. But here's a snippet from the Cedric & Axel fic:

Fuck, this is good, Cedric opines, sipping greedily at the soup Gaetan is holding for him. “The old Wolf knows his way around a kitchen,” Gaetan agrees, nodding. “I think I gained most of a stone the first winter I spent here.” “You needed it,” Eskel puts in. “All you Cats are too damn scrawny.” “Wolves are just absurdly big,” Gaetan sniffs. “And what are Vipers, then?” Eskel - teases. And Gaetan is grinning. Axel has never seen Gaetan so relaxed around an alpha before. Not even Cedric. But there’s not even a hint of tension in his littlest brother. He’s utterly unafraid. “Vipers are mostly perfectly normal sizes, Letho’s just special,” Gaetan says cheerfully. Letho smirks.

As to my writing process - oh gods, it's like a pogo stick. I often have eight or ten docs open, and I create a new WIP at least three times a week. (I am very easy to plotbunny. And I am surrounded by enablers.) I write until I get stuck and then I go to something else. Sometimes, if something really grabs me, I can get a whole longfic out in a week; sometimes I have to come back to it again and again until it clicks. My personal feeling is that as long as words are ending up in a row, it's all good.

I don't outline. Outlines kill fic for me. Once I've written down what's going to happen, why bother writing it again? Even for something like MBtT, I had the very loosest possible sketch of the plot and the desired relationships. I also can't estimate how long a fic is going to be to save my life. I thought MBtT was going to be 50K. I have to very deliberately keep from putting plot into things like prompt fills and flash fics, because once I've added plot, that fic isn't getting done in less than 10K.

I usually send the fic to Rose when it's completely done, and then do a pass through it once she's left comments, fixing all the plot holes she finds. Then she checks my work and I put it in the posting queue.

One thing I have found that helps me is that I color-code my docs. Blue is in progress, purple is ready for beta, and green is ready to be posted. It makes it easier for me to track things visually.

The other thing that really helps is cheer-readers. Because I try to only post finished fics, sometimes I'll start wondering if what I'm writing is really any good. Rose and Twist and Ray have all been wonderful at Encouraging me enthusiastically to keep going, and suggesting directions when I get stuck. Cheer-readers are great and I encourage writers to find them if they can.

Hope that was interesting!

#questions answered #writing about writing #cats among wolves #snippet

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vividvivy · 1 year ago

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Heya^^ could we get some romantic headcanons about kaiser, shidou and isagi having a artist/painter prodigy s/o?

Of course you can exclude anyone if it's too much! Anyways I hope you'll have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate^^

Notes: Hellooo! First request, I'm so happy oh my gosh. I had some trouble so I'll do the rest in separate parts, hope you don't mind!! 41°C here it's so hot omg. You stay safe and hydrated too!! Also sorry it's messy, I'm still trying to improve and I hope you'll like this! 😭

Pairing: Isagi Yoichi x Reader

Type: Headcanons

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Isagi Yoichi with an Art Prodigy S/O ♡︎

He leaves you for the damn ball.

JOKE.. I'M JOKING GUYS..

Would be the most understanding and considerate among the three. I'm not sure if Yoichi will actually understand, but he's still super supportive and would listen to you and assist you when you need any help or company.

Dates with him are so cozy and peaceful.

He'd stay in an art studio or any room at all and sketch and paint with you all day long.

I think he'd be the type to try and draw you flowers or try to make you (+ him TOGETHER!!)

He'd be over the moon if you agreed to craft anything matching him. Something simple like paper rings, matching pins or brooches, and drawings of each other!!

Would put a drawing you made or a printed pic of you in his clear case.

His phone would be you-themed. Just you, him and your work.

Bonus: If you met as schoolmates or before Blue Lock, he'd try to make small silly doodles for you in class, and if you handed him any doodles, he'd sometimes cut them and place them in his ID case or hang them in his locker and use some of them as bookmarks.

Takes you shopping (would definitely randomly buy Art supplies that caught his eye and give them to you) or anywhere at all!!

His favourite place to stay would probably be in a café or restaurant that isn't too fancy, just somewhere with cute, homey vibes and a picturesque view.

He's TRYING to keep up with you when you invite him to paint together.. (Keyword: He's trying his best.) It definitely isn't the best thing out there but A for effort.

Tbh he always improves so quickly it's scary and makes you envious and proud sometimes..

If it bothers you and he notices, he'd act more clueless on purpose and would let you just guide him??

HAS A SEPARATE SKETCH BOOK WHERE HE KEEPS HIS DRAWINGS OF YOU!!

Made a little scrapbook dedicated to the 2 of u <3

He really REAAALLY admires you and your work.

In his eyes, you and your work are the best there are aside from soccer and being the best striker there is. He could stare at your papers and canvases hung up or scattered all day, admiring each stroke and line, even the finest ones, and looking at each shaded and highlighted area in awe.

His deep blue eyes shine so brightly when they meet your paintings and illustrations, yet no other sea of stars could replicate the shine seen in his gaze when completely in awe. In awe of you.

When you're experiencing any artblocks or frustrations regarding it, he'd be your number one helper.

If it's a better environment and inspiration you need, he'd immediately try to take you places and show you works that you've made before for more inspo. Would try taking you to a soccer field or any open area outdoors too.

Barely knows what he's doing but he's got the spirit guys!!

During hard times, he'd be the first to go by your side and help you.

Would try to be the one to pull you out when all the stress and expectations swallow you whole (Again he's TRYING but all his attempts are most likely clumsy and slightly flawed..)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #blue lock headcanons

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atomicrebelfire · 3 months ago

Text

Thinking about how Tommy would only ever want Buck to hear his real vows, and now I'm emotional about it 🖤❤️

💍Tommy’s Proposal and Wedding Style — Some Soft Headcanon! (+ A Tiny Private Vows Sketch)

As confident, flirty, and outwardly composed as Tommy is — the real stuff? The heart-deep, fragile, raw stuff? That’s private. That’s sacred. That’s only for the person he loves to see.

So when it comes to proposing and marriage, Tommy wouldn’t want a big spectacle.

🖤 Proposal Style: He'd want it quiet, personal — probably just at home, sitting side by side on the couch. No grand speech. No audience. Maybe even a little rambling or awkwardness because it matters so much to him. A hand squeeze. A soft look. A few words that tumble out before he can overthink them.

("You make the whole damn world feel like home. And I want that. I want you.")

And Buck would probably blink too fast, like he couldn’t quite believe it, before smiling so wide it hurt. Because of course he would say yes.

🖤 Wedding Style: Small, simple, intimate. Maybe even an elopement or a quiet civil ceremony. But the real vows — the real promises — wouldn’t be shared in front of a crowd. Tommy would want only Buck to hear those. No stage. No applause. Just them.

Because those words are supposed to belong only to Buck. Always. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------💬 What do you guys think Tommy’s proposing or wedding style would be? Would he go super small? Would he elope? Would he just ramble a confession into Buck’s shoulder and call it done? 🥹 I’d love to hear your thoughts!

(And because I couldn’t resist... here’s a tiny soft sketch of what I imagine their private vows could look like.) 🖤 ❤️❤️ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ✨💖 After the Wedding — Just Them ✨🪢💑💍💫🕊️

The door clicks shut behind them. The city hums outside. The wedding papers are signed. Rings are heavy on their hands.

Tommy sinks onto the couch with a long exhale, running a hand through his hair — the nerves still buzzing under his skin. Buck stands there for a second, like he doesn't know what to do now, until Tommy looks up at him.

"Come here," Tommy says, soft, tugging him down by the hand.

They sit, knees knocking. No music. No flowers. No one watching.

Just them.

Tommy presses his forehead to Buck’s shoulder, breathing him in. For a second, he doesn’t say anything. He just sits there, heart hammering against his ribs.

Then, into the quiet, rough-edged:

"I know it wasn’t fancy. I know we didn’t do the whole thing like people are supposed to." "But Evan— it’s always been you. It’s only you." "I don't need a stage. I don’t need anyone else to hear this." "Just you."

He pulls back just enough to look at him. Eyes shining. Voice thick.

"I promise I'm gonna choose you. Every day. Even when it's hard. Even when it's messy. Even when I screw up — and God, I will screw up." "I'm yours. I want to be yours." "I wanna be the place you come home to. Always."

He pulls back just enough to look at him. Eyes shining. Voice thick.

"You make... everything better. Even me. I— I want you. I need you. Always."

Buck’s hand finds the back of his neck, grounding him. His own voice shakes when he says it back:

"I love you. All of you. Forever."

Tommy lets out a choked laugh, relief and awe tangled up together, and leans in — forehead to forehead, breath to breath.

No one claps. No one cheers. No one has to.

Because it’s not for anyone else.

It’s just them.

And it’s enough.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------P.S. Bored and waiting for lunch, so I just typed this straight into Tumblr. No re-read, no edits. Likely rushed and no forethought. Please pardon any typos, mess, or errors. 🖤

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princesspastel8 · 4 months ago

Text

Bonus: Valentine's Day Mishap

Third POV

Today is Valentine's Day. A day full of confessions, chocolate, and rejections - for society, that is. But in the Slenderman mansion, it's just another party and reason for the proxies to let loose and enjoy themselves - some more than others.

The taller proxies are helping with the decorations, while the ones that can cook fix the food for the evening - Eboni, Helen, and Dina are in the kitchen. The girl is making rotale while Dina is making cakes and mini chocolate bites. Helen is there to help when needed.

"So has Helen always been the closed off type?" Eboni ask, to make conversation.

Dina nods, "Oh yes, yes! It took a while for him to open up. Everyone else thought he was a mean guy, but I knew differently. He just needed someone he could trust." She smiles, a bit of blush growing on her cheeks.

"Mhm, that's interesting. It only took me a week to reach him." Eboni smirks, putting her plan in motion. She looks at Helen and winks, "he's such a cutie pie. I just couldn't help myself."

Dina cracks an egg whole by mistake, making herself jump. Helen blushes heavily from Eboni's words while giving Dina a towel to clean her hand. "W-Well...you did go through my sketch pad so -"

"Huh? But Helen, you hate when people look through your stuff."

Helen rubs the back of his neck nervously, nodding his head. "I-I mean yeah... but Eboni is an exception." He said, shrugging.

Eboni smiles happily, pulling Helen closer and steps on her toes to kiss his cheek- making his face light up with blush. "I was just curious. I needed to find a way to get closer to him, so - he also drew me a few times and even asked me to model for him!"

Dina watches them, her eye twitching when Helen places his hand awkwardly on Eboni's hip. "W-Well, you do have a bright smile, s-so...."

"Aw, see what I mean, Dina? A cutie pie." She smiles, pitching his cheeks before going back to cooking.

Dina does the same while Helen stands back awkwardly, twiddling his fingers and waiting for their orders. Dina can feel her jealousy begin to spill over. She's been gone for a whole year. A part of her excepted for Helen to be waiting for her, not fall for someone else. She can't blame him for moving on since he is a lonely person at heart.

Eboni is a beautiful girl, Dina knows that. Most, if not all, the male proxies have drooled over her at some point in time. She could have them wrapped around her fingers if she wanted them to, but why did she have to entangle her Helen into her web? The thought of losing him makes her heart ache painfully.

"Princess." Jeff said, walking into the kitchen. "Damn, that smells good." He whispers into her ear, placing his hands on her hips and kisses down her neck.

She giggles, trying to wiggle out of his hold. "Stoooop, you're distracting me."

"No shit sherlock." He said, pressing himself against her - giving her one last kiss against her neck before kissing her cheek, making her smile.

"How was your mission with EJ?"

"Fun as hell! The way he rips out the fuckers kidneys is hilarious! He always does it while they're alive, saying it's because it's more fresh that way? I don't fucking know!" He laughs.

"I'm glad you had fun. Looking forward to tonight?" Eboni asks, looking up at him.

He frowns, almost pouting. He really wants Eboni there with him, but he isn't going to miss out on getting completely wasted either. "I guess....wish you'd come with me, princess, but I get it. Anything planned with Sally?"

"Actually, no, Sally and Laughing Jack are going out on a long-term mission together - so I'm stuck my myself." She shrugs, turning off the crockpot once the rotale is done.

Jeff scoffs, turning her around to face him. He stares down at her for a moment before rolling his eyes. He knows he should spend Valentine's Day with his girl, but passing up on a night when you're allowed to get as wasted as you want? Now that's a crime - at least to Jeff.

"Don't bother Jeff. I told you I'll be fine. You have fun."

He sighs, nodding his head. "Promise?"

"I promise." She said, standing on her toes to peck his lips. "It's almost time. Let's get you dressed up!" Eboni geeks, dragging him up the stairs and leaves Helen & Dina alone.

The party is as lively as ever. Eboni can hear over her gaming headset. It's been an hour since the party started. She needs to wait a few more minutes before going downstairs and putting on her little show. Her anxiety is picking up at the thought of the flashing lights & loud music. It brings back horrifying memories.

Smile dog comes over, kicking Eboni's cheek. She smiles, pulling her headset off. "Hm... yeah, you're right, smiles. He's dead now... I should be able to enjoy myself...its just.."

Eboni sighs, slapping her cheeks to snap herself out of it. "This is for Helen. He deserves to be happy....you can do this, Eboni." She huffs, motivating herself.

She stands, opening Jeff's closet and pulls out two pink colored boxes - one holding her outfit and the other her shoes. She puts on her one-piece bow dance wear set with fishnet tights and knee-high heeled boots. Eboni does her makeup, applying sparkling lip gloss, pink liquid eyeliner, mascara, and a bow drawing on her cheek bones using her pink liquid liner.

She leaves her hair in her curly fro, smiling at her reflection. She's gained a lot of confidence in herself, most of it being thanks to Jeff. She never imagined herself dressing like this, but he's made it clear time and time again how utterly attractive she is.

"Alright, smiles, wish me luck. Might want to leave....no idea what Jeff might do once I'm done."

The dog barks, pushing past Eboni once she opens the bedroom door. She takes in a deep breath, walking out of Jeff's room and down the stairs. When reaching the bottom, the teen is greeted by a high BEN.

BEN looks at Eboni, eyes trailing up her body. "Whooooooa! Now you know Jeff will lose his mind once he sees you in that! Matter of fact, why are you down here? I thought-"

"Changed my mind, and this isn't for Jeff."

The demon blinks in confusion, "Huh?"

Eboni's eyes lock onto a stripper pole. ".....you guys put a pole in?"

"Oh hell yeah! Slenderman isn't here so we're allowed to lose our fucking minds!" He cheers, holding his blunt up for Eboni, "wanna hit?"

"Maybe later. Have you seen Hel-" Eboni looks up, noticing Helen leaning against the wall in a corner, Dina leaving him to talk with someone that looks like a ghost.

"Ah, found him! See you around BEN." She waves, pushing her way through the crowd to reach Helen. "Well, don't you look nice!" She said, loud enough for him to hear her over the music.

Helen jumps, looking down at Eboni. His eyes widen, looking over her figure. "I-I- You look -"

"I know!" She laughs, moving in closer. "I know you don't dance. Just stand there and let me lead!"

Helen opens his mouth to speak, but his words quickly lock into his throat. He tenses, his eyes wide as Eboni dances against him very provocatively. The bloody painter isn't blind. He's well aware of how attractive she is. How sensual her movements are against him, her ass brushing against his crotch ever so often.

His face is as red as a tomato. He can feel himself getting hard. "Wh-Wait Eboni! How is this a-apart of the plan!?" He questions, voice in a panic. The second-hand embarrassment is eating him alive.

"You'll see! She's looking at us right now!"

Helen gulps, daring his eyes to focus on anything else besides his beautiful friend. He can feel two sets of eyes on him. One Dina, the other Jeffrey. The smiling killer has been watching this whole time in complete shock. EJ was the one to point out Eboni, Jeff's brain still functioning. He only had a few shots, but his alcohol tolerates is pretty high.

"E-Eboni, I-I think this plan is working S-So um maybe -"

Eboni stops her movements, turning to look at him a smirk. "Just keep your eyes on me. She'll eventually step in." She said, walking to the pole located in the middle of the room.

She steps onto the small stage, the song changing to suit her taste. Eboni looks at Jeff, smirking and winking at him. She looks back at Helen, his eyes never leaving hers. She grinds against the pole, swaying her hips to the beat. She does a hand stand, wrapping her legs around the pole. She moves up, holding onto the pole with one hand as the other travels down her body seductively.

Eboni does many tricks that draw the attention of every male attending the party. Even a few women find her tricks entertaining. The shots are beginning to make Jeff's mind buzz. The sight of his girl performing has him rock hard, but the comments of the other proxies around pisses him off.

"Damn.....didn't know Eboni could move like that."

"Jeff is one lucky fucker."

"Sure 'bout that? She's not even looking at him! Her eyes are on Helen!"

"Oh well shit, if she's passing pussy around then I want a taste."

Eboni completes her stage performance as the song comes to an end. She spins around the pole upside down with one thigh holding on. When close to the bottom, she lifts herself - both hands on the pole. She continues to spin, legs stretching out into a spin all the way down to the ground.

The crowd claps and cheers for more, but Eboni has other plans. EJ looks at Jeff, feeling the anger roll off him in waves. "Jeff whoa man calm down. I'm sure she was just having a bit of fun -"

EJ's words catch in his throat as he watches Eboni step down the stage while swaying her hips towards Helen. She cages him against the wall, smile seductive and eyes full of mock lust for him. EJ sighs, knowing whatever Jeff does next will be completely justified.

"Th-That was great, Eboni. B-But-"

"But what?" Eboni said, her tone teasing. "You're hard." She said, looking to the side - Dina watching everything. "Damn... she still hasn't made a move." She looks back at Helen, placing her hands on his chest.

Helen is a stuttering, blushing mess at this point. "I-I'm sorry! I-I don't like you, I swear! You're my d-dear friend, but wait, what a-are you -"

Eboni hands slowly travel down his chest, reaching uncharted territory. "I won't touch it. This should make her -"

In a split second, Eboni is ripped off of Helen- Dina, moving in between the two with her hand on the handle of her sword. Eboni grins, jealous burning on Dina's face. Jeff's grip on Eboni's waist is painfully tight, making her flinch.

He lowers down to her ear from behind, body shaking in rage. "What the fuck are you trying to do, huh?"

Eboni doesn't answer. Instead, she eggs both of them - eyes still trained on Helen. She grins, blowing a kiss to Helen. Jeff sucks in a breath, moving one hand to her throat and tightening, "Do that shit again. I fucking dare you."

Eboni, being Eboni, does without a second, though - making Dina draw her sword. Jeff glares at the woman, picking up Eboni and throwing her over his shoulder. "Handle your freak, and I'll handle this bitch." Jeff seethes before storming off up the stairs and into his room.

He slames the door, dropping her on the bed. Eboni huffs, rolling over onto her back. She looks at him blankly before averting her gaze. He takes off his jacket, running his fingers through his hair while walking to his closet. He pulls out a box, pulling out rope, handcuffs, a ball gag, and a leather flog.

"Take that one piece off. Leave the fishnets and boots on. Stand in the middle of the floor with your arms raised."

Eboni reluctantly does as told, knowing Jeff is furious. She takes her clothing off, moving to the middle of the room, raising her arms. Jeff turns, tossing the rope onto the hook drilled into his ceiling. He ties Eboni's hands together, handcuffing her ankles.

Jeff moves to place the ball gag on her, but Eboni speaks, "Jeff, wait - let me explain! I was just -"

The killer back hands Eboni cheek, grabbing her jaw and pulling her face to face. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up.", he grits. "You...you've been a bitchy brat lately. Why? Because I'm out on missions? Doing my fucking job? You seek attention that badly you get it from some poetic drawing freak!?"

"No daddy please that's not -"

Jeff forces the ball gag on her, patting her cheek harshly - making her whimper. "Tricked me into thinking that you'll say in my room the whole damn night. But noooo, you wanted to put on a fucking for him. HIM!? that weak ass piece of shit!"

He grips the flog handle tightly in his hands, hitting her just under her thighs. Eboni jerks forward, a sound mixed with pleasure & pain muffles from the ball gag. He hits her again and again, only aiming under the curve of her ass- hitting her thighs. Though the hits sting, the aftermath of the burn left behind leaves Eboni's mind in a state of confused bliss.

It hurts. She relishes in the pain, almost begging for Jeff to hit her more - with more force right on her -

"Mmmph!~" Eboni moans, the flog hitting right across her ass- leaving prints of the leather behind.

"Aw...is that what my little pain slut wanted? To get hit there?" Jeff mocks, hitting her again. "Look at you... shaking that ass, just begging for more. Such a pain whore."

Each hit makes Eboni's body jerk and mind melt into mush. It's been so long since the two been intimate. Slenderman has been working Jeff to the bone, leaving Eboni to hang out with the very few friends she has around the mansion. It's true. She did crave attention. She found a friendship in Helen that she doesn't have with EJ & BEN. He's calm, very sweet, and endearing. He holds a loneliness that she once carried before meeting Jeff. Maybe that's what drew her to Helen.

None of that matters, though. Jeff's relentless hits are beginning to make her completely incoherent. The pain just feels so good, tears prickling the corners of her eyes. Jeff hits her one last time before tossing the flog to the side.

"Did a few hits dumb my little brat down already? How pathetic..." he sighs, undoing the ropes and catches Eboni's slump form.

He pats her cheeks a bit, forcing her out of her buzzed state. "On your knees, princess."

Despite Jeff's order, he gently guides her down, cooing at her softly. "You're so damn cute. I barely did anything to you, and you're drooling." He hums playfully, taking the ball gag off. "Want more?"

"Y-Yes...", Eboni said hoarsely, making Jeff grip her jaw to get her to look at him.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes daddy...I-I want more."

"Good girl." He hums, stepping away to pull the rope off of the hook. He goes back into the box, pulling out a small remote-controlled sex toy.

He wraps Eboni's body in the rope, having learned from online searches and a few tutorial videos. Her hands are resting on the low of her back, the heel of her feet pressed against her ass- making the marks burn even more. Jeff stands after tying the final knot. He looks at his work with a proud grin, pulling out his phone.

The killer takes a few pictures, "Now this is art. This is way better than the pieces that fucker drew of you." He huffs, showing Eboni the many pictures he took of her.

The girl is too out of it to care, just wanting more of him. "More...Pl-Please."

"Be fucking patient. I guess hitting the brat-ness outta you did nothing. Matter of fact, you enjoyed it waaay to much." He sighs, lowering himself down and rips the fishnets at the crotch area.

He licks his lips at the wetness soaking her thong. He pushes it to the side, shoving the toy inside of Eboni. She gasps, squirming a bit once he turns it on its lowest setting. He stands back up, unzipping his pants. He lowers it just a bit, his large girthy length springing free.

Eboni's mouth waters at the sight, drool close to spilling down her chin. She opens her mouth eagerly, making Jeff laugh. "Fuck....you're such a whore, you know that?", still taking pictures of her. "Maybe I should make a scrapbook of just these filthy pictures of you, good idea huh?"

She whines, nodding her head- wanting him deep down her throat. He rolls his eyes, placing his free hand holding the remote to the toy at the back of her head. She pulls her forward to his length, forcing himself balls deep down her throat. Eboni gags a few times, breathing through her nose. Jeff stays still, staring intensely at Eboni. He turns the setting up on the toy, making her moan & gag around his length.

"Fuck~," he groans, yanking her head back before forcing it back down, roughly tears slipping from her eyes. "Think he can fuck your mouth like this? Huh princess? Keep your fucking eyes on me."

With the setting of the toy now on its highest, Eboni is struggling to keep her eyes focused on the man destroying her vocal cords. From the burning on her ass and thighs to the toy vibrating rabidly inside of her, Jeff's tip slamming repeatedly into the back of her throat - she's so close. So, so close.

One last thrust becomes Jeff's undoing. He groans loudly, spilling his release down her throat as he turns off the toy. The sight of Eboni's brows knit together in frustration makes him laugh. "Aw you poor stupid bitch. You really thought I'd let you cum that easily? Tsk, Tsk. Apparently I've spoiled you waaay to much. This is a punishment."

He pulls her head back, ordering her not to spill a single drop. The sight of her runy mascara mixing with her tears has his cock twitching back to life. He reaches under his bed, pulling out his knife collection. He opens the case, pulling out a large blade with a leather handle. First, he closes the case, kicking it back under his bed. Secondly, he stabs the blade deep into the mattress- only the handle sticking up. Lastly, he goes back to Eboni- taking the toy out and unties her.

"Stand up. You can still fucking walk. Go ride it." He orders, nodding his head towards the knife handle sticking up from his bed.

Her eyes widen, shaking her head. "Wh-wha? Ah!"

Jeff reaches down, grabbing her throat and pulling her up to her feet. He tosses her onto the bed, grabbing the chair from his small desk, and moves it in front of his bed - sitting down. He spreads his legs, one hand gripping his dick while the other holds his phone camera on record, aiming at Eboni.

"You wanna be a attention seeking bitch and put on shows for every fucker out there right? Well I want you to put on a show for me. Ride my fucking knife. I'm not gonna tell you again." He warns darkly, anger still lingering in his gaze.

Eboni gulps nervously, crawling towards the handle. Though her ankles are still cuffed, she manages to position herself above the handle, slowly sinking onto it. She hisses, the foreign feeling bringing discomfort and just a bit of pleasure. She gasps loudly when fully down. Her body trembles, trying to adjust to this odd feeling.

"Yeah... there you go, good girl." He grins, stroking himself. "Now start moving."

She slowly lifts her hips, sinking back down gently. Eboni whimpers, the discomfort turning into pleasure the more she moves her hips. She rocks her hips, grinding against the handle. She reaches to play with her clit, making Jeff snap at her.

"Don't you fucking dare! Keep your damn hands on the bed. Move faster." He demands, picking up pace with his hand.

Eboni cries out, moving as fast as she can- rotating her hips in between. She can't take much more. She wants to cum, she needs to cum. Jeff keeps his eyes on her, groaning at the way her tits bounce, the way her hips move just right against the handle, the way her full lips cry out begs & pleas to cum- but he won't let her. Not yet. She doesn't deserve it.

"Stop."

That order makes her sob, but she listens- pussy clenching the handle in need. "Pl-Please daddy...please I need it..n-need to-"

"Get off. Lay back, spread your legs."

Tears rolling down her messy cheeks, she does as told. Eboni lifts up slowly, laying back on the bed. She parts her thighs, unable to spread her legs further because of the cuffs. Jeff ends the recording, taking off his pants and boxers after removing his boots. He stalks over to Eboni, pulling the soaking knife out of his bed. Holding eye contact, he licks the blade clean- his wet hand rubbing her dripping cunt. He grabs his phone with his other hand, starting a new recording.

"Both my girls are crying for me, huh?" Jeff questions, tone teasing.

He slides, two fingers is- smirking wildly. "Well shit, poor girl sucked my fingers right in. Dripping so heavy for me....you missed me didn't you?"

Eboni doesn't answer, gasping at his fingers curling and rubbing against her gummy walls. She knows he's talking to her pussy, paying her no mind at all. He adds a third digit, thumb rubbing circles against her clit- the snoopy sounds of her pussy making Jeff's length twitch & tip leak pre.

"Poor thing wanted my dick so bad, made my other girl act a damn fool for my attention." He chuckles, staring at his craved name just above her pussy. "Both of you...are fucking mine. You...and you." He said, finally looking at Eboni. "Say it." He demands, shoving his ring dressed fingers deeper.

"Yours! All yours! Pl-Please daddy...n-need you in..in please." Eboni begs, voice horse and pleading.

He licks his lips, pulls his fingers out, and watches her hole, almost gasping for anything - needing to be filled. "Good girl...such a wet mess you are."

Jeff ends the recording, positioning his phone on the nightstand and starting a new one. With both hands free, he licks his fingers dry. He moves in between her legs - ankles rest on the back of his neck, lining himself to her dipping entrance. Jeff nearly loses all composure once his tip is in. He grips the sheets, Eboni sucking him in until he's bottom out.

"H-Holy shiiiit!" He curses, his eyes squeezing shut as he fights tooth & nail with himself- trying to not cum to soon. "Damn...you two...really needed me this bad?" He questions, mockingly.

"Yes! S' full~" Eboni pants, eyes lided- mind mush.

Jeff pulls out, tip still in before snapping his hips forward. He keeps this slow, agonizing pace - wanting to relish in how soaked and tight she feels around him. He watches her intensively. It's common knowledge that Jeff is prone to jealousy when it comes to anything that involves Eboni. He sometimes can't stand seeing her interact with EJ & BEN. But he holds back since he trust them, until his patience runs thin and he drags her away to be with him in his room. Jeff is clingy, overprotective, and extremely possessive. What's his is his, no questions ask.

So witnessing Eboni suddenly get close to Helen left a bad, rotten taste in his mouth. She has EJ, BEN, Sally, and even Laughing Jack to hang around with, people that Jeff approves off. Why would she suddenly want more people around her? He hates it. Sometimes, he wishes he could just lock her up and throw away the key. He can still feel the white hot jealousy deep within his chest from her actions tonight.

Jeff stops, moving her legs off his shoulders and forces her legs to bend down - her knees on each side of her head. He's still surprised at how flexible his girl is. He sinks back inside, hissing at her tightness. "Daaaaamnit hnn~ I'm gonna fuck you dumb."

Eboni cries out from how much deeper she feels him. The rough and fast pace of his thrust, sending her mind ablaze. She can feel the pulsing veins rubbing perfectly against her runny walls, his tip ramming mercilessly against her cervix. She reaches up, her hands under his shirt and scratching up his back- nails digging dip into his flesh.

"S' good! M' full! To full! G-gonna wanna~"

"Don't you fucking dare, you dirty bitch. Hold. It." Jeff orders, teeth clench.

The rooms fills with nothing but the sound of Eboni's cries, skin slamming against the other, snoppy noises coming from her cunt. Jeff grins at Eboni's fucked out expression, eyes rolling back, drool slipping from her lips down her chin, mouth parted and tongue hanging. A sight only Jeff is graced to see. He leans down, licking her tongue. He moans, feeling her clench as he kisses her sloppily. He reaches a hand down, drawing circles against her clit. She tenses, feeling something new flow out of her.

The killer stops, pulling away from their kiss to glance down in between them. He chuckles dryly, tilting his head at her. "....did you fucking squirt on me?"

Eboni looks away, embarrassment eating at her. "I-I didn't mean -"

"Such a filthy...dirty little bitch you are...fuck that's so hot~" he pants, moving even faster inside of her.

Both draw closer to their highs, the friction, the edging, and the position becoming too much for Eboni to handle. She's so close to breaking. Jeff is near, the sight of her squirting by a mere flick of her clit is far to enticing. He can't hold it in anymore. He's about to-

"Fuck...FUCK!"

"D-Daddy! Please! C-Can't no'm~"

"You're mine. Fucking mine. You do what I say. You only dance for me. You only look at me. You only listen to me. Do you fucking- shit!~" he grabs her jaw, making Eboni look at him. "Do you understand me, princess?"

"Yes! All yours, o-only you~"

Finally satisfied, he smirks. "Good girl... my good girl. Go ahead, cum all over my cock."

Eboni does, a water fall spraying out of her - making a mess of the sheets and Jeff's pelvis. The sight breaks him, Jeff moaning just as loud as he spills his release into her - feeling her to the brim. He captures her lips in a heated, passionate kiss- biting & nibbling her lips in between as they slowly come down from their all-consuming highs.

Jeff breaks the kiss, spit lining their lips as they catch their breath. "Never ever do that shit again. I might kill you if you do.." he said, tone deathly serious.

Eboni nods her head, "Yes, Daddy...I-I'll never do that again.. I'll tell you..when I need you....when we need you."

He smirks, kissing her lips. "That's my girl."

No one is up until the late evening. Most of the proxies are to hung over to move from their beds, while the rest simply partied too hard. Jeff is up, giving Eboni her much needed aftercare. When done, he offers to carry her down to the kitchen, but she refuses, wanting to walk for some stupid reason - maybe out of spite.

But Jeff let's her, watching her grip the hand railing as she limps down each step. "Sure you don't want me to carry you, princess?" He teases.

Eboni huffs, nodding her head - cheeks red in embarrassment. "I'm sure Jeff...I'm perfectly capable of walking."

He slaps her ass, almost making her lose balance. "Sure you are." He winks, moving past her and continues down the stairs.

Jeff pauses at the bottom. However, brow raised at the sight he's witnessing. Once Eboni makes it down, she looks eyes widen but smiling brightly. There against the wall, on the other side of the living room, are Helen & Dina - getting down & dirty.

"Wh-Wait Dina, please, y-you made your point last night. I-I caaan't~" Helen moans, back press firmly against the wall - leaving no room to escape.

"I don't think I did enough last night." Dina said matter of factly. She continues to assault his neck, leaving new hickeys over the ones made last night. "I really like hearing you say my name...say it again, please?" She says softly, her hand reaching into his pants to grip his length tightly - making him yelp.

Cheeks flush and ears red, Helen nods. "D-Dina..Dina, pl-please~"

"Please wh-"

EJ clears his throat loudly, BEN holding his phone up- recording the two. The two proxies having joined Jeff and Eboni at the bottom of the stairs. Helen tenses, face so red it looks as if it might pop- yet his expression remains blank. Dina backs away, allowing Helen to fix his clothes with trembling hands.

"Damnit, EJ, it was just getting good too!" BEN huffs, stopping the recording and putting his phone away.

Jeff blinks a few times, finally putting two and two together. He turns to Eboni, arms crossed. "......so you did all that crap... just to help set him up?"

Eboni nods, smile still wide as she holds a thumbs up towards Helen & Dina. "He didn't believe me when I said she felt the same. He was too scared to tell her. So... I just gently nudged Dina to make the first move."

"I think getting him hard is more than just a nudge.", BEN snickers.

Jeff punches BEN, storming into the kitchen. Eboni follows as did everyone else. "I couldn't tell you my plan, or it wouldn't look believable." Eboni points, giving Jeff puppy dog eyes.

He rolls his eyes, looking away. "...you still wanted a good fuck too."

She grins, nodding her head. "Yeah...that too."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Oh fuck you, make me food."

She giggles, reaching to kiss his cheek. "Yes, Daddy."

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rauchendesgnu · 1 year ago

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"Would you like a seat?" Gerry asks over his shoulder as Sam follows him deeper into the apartment. "Only if it isn't a bother," Sam says despite the throbbing in his hip. "Oh, it's no problem at all. Let me just--" The young goth rushes ahead into some sort of studio, clearly expecting Sam to follow. Every spot in the room is either occupied with a painting, or painted on, or splattered, or filled with utensils, tools, and other stuff that is necessary for art. Gerry sweeps a pile of pencil sketches from a chair and offers it to Sam, who sits gratefully, eyes still wandering over the atelier in overwhelmed amazement. "I can make some tea?" Gerry offers. "Oh," Sam says with an awkward smile. "I'm more one for coffee." "Do you mind if I make one for myself, then?" "No, go ahead." The sounds of an electric kettle being filled and switched on reaches Sam, whose eyes fall onto the sketches. He leans a bit closer to get a better look. It's not very polite, to go snooping into the drawings of a potential friend, but he can't help himself. He's always been so damn curious. The first sketch shows a short, thin man with dark hair that is starting to go grey despite his young but tired face. His brown skin is covered in scars and his eyes are glowing. Sam blinks, and for a second he feels like the drawing blinks back at him. He quickly moves the sketch to the bottom of the stack and shakes his head. It's the sleep deprivation. He's not starting to see movement in traditional sketches. The next few sketches show the same man, over and over again, eyes blazing, mouth set in a thin line, exhaustion weighing down a face that could once have been called handsome. He's not the only one, though. There's a second man, tall and broad, with red hair and a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He's barely recognisable in the fog that surrounds him that gets thicker with every new sketch Sam discovers. The last one is that of a man who wouldn't have looked out of place in Pride and Prejudice (as written by Cassandra Austen), with a neatly pressed collar and a cravat, as well as jewellery in the form of eyes. His grey eyes are intense, piercing Sam through the page. Sam is about to put the sketches back when a piece of paper slips, and his heart stops. The woman on the paper is a detailed pencil drawing of Celia. It's almost scary how perfect that sketch catches her likeness. Surely Gerry would have needed more than one look at her to draw her so realistically? Sam fights the wave of jealousy that wants to overtake him. It's none of his business who Celia meets in her free time. There is only that one sketch of her, and as Sam finds the last page, he's a bit disappointed to discover that there is just two sentences scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.

The maze is sharp on my mind. The angles cut me when I try to think.

They are underlined with so much force that the pencil nearly broke through the paper. In the kitchen, the kettle turns off, and Sam quickly places the pages back in order. "Gerry," he says when his host returns, mug of tea in hand, "who are these people you sketched?" Gerry glances over his shoulder, then shrugs. "Now that you say it...I have no idea. These are from a while ago. Why, did I accidentally draw someone you know?" He says it with a smile, like it's a joke between artists. Did I accidentally draw you? Sam's gaze drifts back over the man with the glowing eyes. "I don't know," he says softly. "I don't know."

#the magnus protocol #tmagp fanfic #sam khalid #gerry keay #gerry delano #disabled character #tmagp #tma episode 65: binary #tmagp chester #tmagp norris #martin blackwood #jonah magnus #jonathan sims #jmj error #my writing #ficlet #alternate history

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princessleechan · 1 year ago

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“Choi Seungcheol must die” Chapter 30 + [BONUS 18+ WRITTEN SCENE]

Masterlist

📌chapter tags: MDNI, SMAU, inspired by “John tucker must die”, John tucker!seungcheol, college au, revenge fic, written scene under cute (2.6k w.c.) smut tags under cut off, lost friends, mystery mornings, and heart been broke so many times i....

Thank you @highvern for helping me out a bit!

taglist: @silvsie @christinewithluv @stayinhellevator @aiforyuu @2youngsworld @justcruisingalonguntilbamkpop @asyre @simpxxstan @anzellll @hipsdofangirl @plskillme22 @lirtha97 @lixiel0ver @notevenheretbh1 @leah-rose03 @woozarts @expensive-idiot @doveblackboat @the-boy-meets-evil @tamakis-bbyy @freshdetectivenight @mrsdacherry @smilechannie @alltheshineofthestars-blog @ocyeanicc @horanghaezone @wonuqrtz @leewonkyeom @horangboosadan @kkooongie @myghobi @wonunuwoo @wonwootakemyheart @shuasunshine @dinonuguaegi @ckline35 @miriamxsworld @itsokaytobedumb00 @seokgyuu @nishloves @bmkgemz @conwunder @kawaiimusiccollection @humankimbap @huening-kawaii @writingbarnes @strawberryya

Warning: Virgin sex, awkward sex, fingering, banter

Although things go according to plan, nothing prepared you for the events that would transpire the rest of that night.

You don't expect to find comfort in the person you've been bickering with for the better half of the last few months, and you can say the same about finding him drowning in his heartbroken sobs. His typical snarky demeanor decidedly gives way to a gentler, more subdued tone. It speaks volumes, underscoring that beneath even the fiercest of faces lies a simple, human vulnerability.

"Sorry, this is the first place I could think of. I just wanted to get out there."

Chan's apartment is cozy; fit for two people–barely–and has everything you could possibly need. The bare essentials like dish soap and nothing more.

Heading straight for the kitchen sink, Chan lets the faucet run, capturing the cold stream in his cupped hands. His damp palms collide against his face, washing away the evidence of his anguish. His fingers rip through his hair, locks clumping together in damp ropes; heartache radiating through the quiet space.

"It's alright. I wouldn't have been able to provide somewhere good either. Head's kind of all over the place," you respond, softly chuckling.

He turns towards you, cheekbones glistening under the play of water and fluorescent lighting. His lips curve into a subtle smile, a sight that retains its beauty amid the unfolding turn of events. "I get the feeling."

"It's funny," You muse, absentmindedly surveying the intricate details of his residence, each corner telling a story of his history living here. "We hardly see each other in person, having only ever texted, and now I'm in your apartment."

"Yeah? I guess it's kind of funny. Funnier than the shit we saw today."

The image briefly flashes in your mind before you dismiss it, shaking your head like an etch-a-sketch. "I’m surprised you saw that. Yeah, um, that could've gone better. Things got a bit theatrical because of it."

"I liked it," Chan shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning against the kitchen counter, "He got what he deserved and I stand by that."

"You would," you jest, slowly approaching him. "Haru must really have a hold on you."

He reveals a bittersweet smile. "Yeah, she does."

"Damn, things are really messed up," you express in disbelief. "What’ll happen now? We return to our normal lives and pretend this didn’t happen while Seungcheol’s in shambles?"

"Well," he responds, pushing off from the marble surface and shuffling into the living room. "I always figure Haru will eventually see the truth that he was just some guy not cut out for her. Show her that the guy meant for her is closer than you think, you know? Me."

"And then Jun…"

His chin jerks as you approach him. "It's never been me. No matter how many times I’ve tried convincing her. And I was so sure it’d turn around this time."

"I thought Jun and I would have something," you fiddle with your fingers, "I didn't know how off I was. Like I never even had a chance."

Chan shakes his head in disbelief. "How did things end up like this? Feels like we're stuck in some bad romantic comedy where everyone's paired up with the wrong person."

You shrug, "I wish I knew."

"To think that we were the ones who could have benefited the most from this, only for it to fail, huh?"

"We're a pathetic pair, aren't we?" You laugh bitterly.

He echoes your laughter. "Yeah…"

At that moment, your eyes exchange a blend of empathy, a silent understanding of the disappointment you both are consumed by in that moment; an unspoken acknowledgment of how awry your lives have become.

"It's crazy that he met someone like you," he admits, avoiding your eyes.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, you're beautiful," he looks up, his gaze sincere. "Even before all the scheming. It's surprising Jun didn't try to approach you first."

Heat creeps against your cheeks, flustered by his honesty. "Maybe that would've changed things, hmm?"

"Maybe," he smiles. "I'm sorry things didn't go as planned… and I'm sorry that I blew up on you before."

You shake your head, a mixture of understanding and regret in your expression. "You didn't mean it. We were both hurt and devastated… I suppose I projected that onto Seungcheol when I had the chance."

"And it's amazing, the best expression I see on his face. He looked human for once," he adds with a light-hearted chuckle.

"Still, I feel a little bad. Maybe I was kind of harsh. I was just so…"

"Frustrated? That everything you worked towards didn’t go exactly how you want?"

"Yeah. I admit that my feelings right now are a little jumbled up, but I still really like him.."

"Maybe this was a sign for both of us to move different paths. Do something we otherwise wouldn’t do to…get over this?"

You tilt your head curiously. "Do you think we can actually do that?"

“I think you can.” He shrugs, crossing his arms. "I, on the other hand, might take some time."

You extend an open palm toward him. "Shake on it? That we’ll move forward from this."

Chuckling at the ridiculous offer, he reaches out and accepts your hand, fingers curling around yours with a gentle, reassuring grip. The warmth of your hand melds seamlessly with his own, sending a subtle shiver down your spine. You notice how his palm envelops your slightly smaller one, a natural alignment that feels surprisingly right.

When you look up, a subconscious voice prods you with questions threatening the gravity of this premature pact. And all of a sudden, things escalate from there in the blink of an eye. You could never explain how your mouth ends up on his; too lost in the softness of his lips to wonder how it can feel so natural.

For a fleeting moment, Chan snaps out of his trance, distancing himself with his hands planted on your shoulders. His eyes search for answers, blinking frantically as if committing sin for the first time. "W-What are you doing?"

"I-I don't know. I thought maybe this is what you had meant?"

"No, not exactly, but—"

"Do you not want to? Did I make it weird?"

"No, I–,” he pauses to think, lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. “I've never had someone kiss me like that before. I'm not really sure how to process it."

"Well, you can reject me, and I can move on?" you tease, tension thick in the atmosphere.

He shakes his head with parted lips, rapidly closing the space between you with sudden determination. “Instead…”

His mouth meets yours cautiously before chasing after your pace; hands finding your body eagerly, cataloging your figure for the first time. The coolness of your exposed skin registers beneath his fingertips, palms gliding across your soft curves.

You lean into him, softly moaning as your lips part open, and you taste his experimentation. When your hand finds the wet tips of his hair, you comb through from behind, deepening your union before stumbling backward into the single sofa.

Before you could clumsily fall backward, Chan claims your hip to pull you out of the way, only to clutch you like a personal vice. You're startled, releasing from him momentarily to read his intentions, and instead finding him dazed and disoriented.

“Wait, what are we doing?” You ask sincerely, catching your breath.

Chan ponders your question slowly and a metaphorical lightbulb flashes above his head before he blurts out, “I’m a virgin!”

Your eyes slightly widen, taken back by the words coming from his lips. “I didn’t mean—I mean me too, but you probably figured that out.”

His eyes grow as big as saucers. “I don’t know why I said that, that’s not probably what this was—“

“It can be,” you look down, batting your eyes, “If that’s what you wanted?”

“Is that what you wanted?”

You look back up, gulping down a lump in your throat. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Are you sure? Swapping virginities?”

You groan. “Swapping—god, what are you in? High school?”

“It’s a serious question,” he answers defensively, “I don’t wanna be—I don’t wanna put you in a position that makes you uncomfortable. It should be something we both want.”

You nod gingerly, “I want to.”

“Really?”

“Mmh-hmm.”

He squints at you. “You haven’t been drinking—“

“No I haven’t,” you interject, irritation simmering beneath your reply from all the questions.

“So we’re really doing this? And you don’t think you’ll back down?”

His shirt wrinkles in your hold, forcing him to meet your eyes as you assert, “We deserve this more than anyone.”

You feel like a pair of sloppy sexually deprived teenagers.

Everything feels new the moment you enter his bedroom, glued to one another like flies in a sugar trap. Clumsily, Chan manages to tug off his shirt and press his bare, taut torso against you; every inch of his skin blistering against your own.

You gasp as he crowds you onto the bed with the simple maneuvering of his lips, urging you to lower yourself into the comfort of his worn-in scent in his sheets. He crawls over you, arms bracketing your figure and backing you up against the bed frame before he escapes your liplock. You finally look at him; sweat kissing his forehead, pink heat covering his entire body, and his erection almost bursting at the seams of his jeans.

You’ve never seen one so close before, unable to look away from its bold presence. Chan instinctively lowers his hands, blocking your view. The pink travels up to his ears and cheeks, lips quivering as he warns, “You’re staring.”

You swallow your nerves, “Well, you know. I’m…taking it all in.”

Chan snorts with amused laughter.

You roll your eyes, “Stop it.”

“You walked into that all on your own.”

“Just do the damn thing already.”

Chan’s moments of shock continue to expand. “You want it already? You don’t want, like, foreplay or anything?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never done this before.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s just make sure you’re wet enough. So uh, do I have permission to undress you?”

You feign a semblance of confidence, hoping to mask the underlying apprehension. “Y-yeah, whatever.”

He leans in to reach for the zipper on the back of your top, gradually sliding it down. The cool touch of the metal ghosts along your spine, sending shivers cascading through your entire body. Holding on to your gaze, you watch as he finishes laying you bare and tosses the articles of clothing aside. Chan takes his time marveling, noting every blemish and curve, retaining it to his memory bank and he grins. “You really are beautiful.”

“Shut up,” you huff before kicking him gently.

He laughs into your lips before moving on to your bottoms and slipping the fabric down past your legs. You can tell his gaze shifts facing you only in your underwear, like crossing foreign territory, Chan seems hesitant to tread lines. “You’ll tell me if somethings wrong, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay, I’m going in now.”

“Alright.”

His hand lingers to the height of his chest. “Here I go, with my fingers—oh do you give me consent—“

“Yes! I give you consent. Just please hurry up.” You wince. “I’m nervous enough as is, but I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Finally, his hands make it underneath your underwear, finding your wet fold immediately.

You quietly gasp, “Oh, well that’s really new.”

He looks back up at you curiously. “If I fuck up—“

“I’ll tell you,” you reassure.

“Right. Okay.” Chan says more to himself than you.

He presses two fingers against your slit, letting them sink in soak in your arousal. His gaze fills with anticipation as he watches your reaction each pass of his fingers discovering more and more. His digits move deeper inside, softly stroking you and massaging fluttering walls, earning a small squeak you attempt to silence with your fist.

“Did that hurt?”

You shake your head furiously.

“Then it felt good?”

A nod.

He gives a relieved smile. “Good.”

His thumb strokes above your heat, somehow finding the thing so many people joke about being impossible to locate, and Chan did. Out of all men.

The back of your head knocks against his bed frame, suppressing your moans behind closed lips.

“You like that too?” He asks, circling around the raised flesh.

You nod again more gingerly. “Yes…”

“Am I moving slow enough?”

“You can move faster…”

“Faster?”

“Mmh…”

“Okay.”

It takes some time before Chan finds a comfortable pace, but once he reaches it, you grow limp under his touch. Your eyes flutter in response, small gasps leaving you. You continue to shyly guide him. Faster, harder, deeper. And finally—

“Oh gosh,” you twist the sheets underneath you, “that’s so good, keep going.”

He does as you ask, moving at your desired tempo. You writhe uncontrollably, hips bucking to chase his fingers. Nothing could stop the expressions between your lips, calling his name without meaning to while heat festered all over your body. Pride blooms within him and he's determined to see you through.

His efforts are rewarded when he feels you clench around his fingers. As excitement fuels him, he lets his last thrusts penetrate the deepest they’ve gone, and he hears what a climax sounds like for the first time in person.

You distance yourself with an empty kick, taking in the overwhelming sensations before you letting yourself continue. “Chan, oh my god…”

“Was that…did I—“

“Yes, you idiot,” You move quickly, grabbing him by the back of his neck to reconnect, and dress down until there's nothing between you.

Your bodies become a singular system, forging an invisible bond.

His hand wraps around his exposed cock, generously stroking himself to grow bigger, harder, thick enough to assure your satisfaction. Bigger is always better, right?

“That hurts a little bit…” you resound honestly.

The tip of Chan’s cock hardly makes himself known at your entrance, adjusting to your untouched heat stretched around his size. He gently pulls out, rubbing the condom-covered tip against your dripping slit.

“Sorry.”

“It’s a good pain,” You clarify, “Just take it slow.”

“Okay.”

Gradually, Chan divulges deeper with your permission, hearing the bliss of your moans as you part way and give in to his length. You clutch his arm, steadying yourself with short breaths, counting the beat of your heart.

“It hurts?” He asks, eyes brimming with concern.

“I want it to move inside me.”

Chan swallows, forcing his attention back on the task at hand, stretching you out as he rolls his hips. He moans at your walls clenching around him, absorbed in the embrace that made him longingly ache for more.

You softly whimper, rolling your head back and accepting him, tensing up your lower body. “Mmh-hmm, so that’s what it feels like…”

“It’s good?”

“It’s the start of good.”

He scoffs, not too impressed by half-compliment. “Thanks?”

“W-we’re getting there. Are you ok?” You chuckle, feeling his length wedge deeper in your walls.

“I’m nervous, honestly,” He says, writhing. “But you feel really good.”

“So do you.”

Lowering down, he connects your lips with his smile, moving languidly as he rocks inside you. Your legs border his sides, claiming his shoulders and pressing yourself closer to him. Sighs slip between kisses with each desperate grind against his hips, pushing him deeper. The curve of your back harshens, fitting into his figure and taking every snap of his hips. The pad of your fingers digs into his flesh as you buck into him, his soft words of praise whispering into every liplock.

The end is blurred between shattered expectations and unspoken mourning. Between the sheets of his bed you connect again and again in hope to chase away the pain.

Navigating the realm of intimacy for the first time was expected to be awkward, and, in some ways, it was. However, with Chan, someone you find more like-minded than originally anticipated, a sense of comfort that alleviated the untamed anxious thoughts. You realize it’s what you needed these past couple of months.

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isa-ghost · 10 months ago

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Hey Isa, you wouldn't happen to have any head cannons back there would you?

Also, I hope you're doing well

Yeah hold on lemme check in the back *glass breaking* *metal clanging* *vine boom* *BRUH.mp4* *more glass breaking* *cartoon boink* *high pitched scream* *Taco Bell dong*

Okay got em here ya go

Phil headcanons masterlist

Quesadilla Island gave him SUCH a taste for Latin food and he can't fucking just Get That when he's home in the Hardcore world. Can you imagine him asking Rose to open a portal to another world for a 2am Taco Bell run. That's not even real/good Latin food but can you imagine.

Actually that's another thing he misses, Rose doesn't communicate with him directly when he's home. I don't have an idea of what the reasoning is for that but :(

Goddess of Death likes to tease him about his perching. She makes him so self-aware of it and he hates it but in that "god fucking damn it Kristin. I'm doing it again" way.

Ender King is just a bitch. Phil was scared of him on Quesadilla Island because there was no control or way of predicting what he'd do there. Or why. Or how. Phil generally isn't scared of a long-dead bitch baby. No, there's a hardcore deity we haven't met yet that he's scared of. And if Apollo doesn't dodgeball me on this the day Phil does a new build to introduce one of the two we haven't met yet, I might make a fan deity.

👆🏻 I mentioned this on stream Friday 9/6, I'm already cooking on the fan deity LMAO.

As a chronic overthinker who's way too insistent on constantly mentally firing on all cylinders in order to survive, this dumbass frequently forgets that taking walks (or more commonly: flights) help him unwind and actually organize his thoughts. He's so bad at walking away for a bit and returning to something with fresh eyes and a clear head. And then he remembers to do that finally and is like 🤯 about it.

Honestly, the same could be said for his emotions. I might have made a hc to this effect before, but he has such a bad habit of clinging to distractions or stubbornly trucking on from things instead of just letting himself Sit with his emotions, processing them and letting them just exist and then pass. He's a very proactive coper, but sometimes action isn't the answer and that's something he hasn't quite learned yet (Rose is trying to teach him this). He absolutely fucking hates doing it, but sometimes the best solution for him really is to just. Sit and cry it out, or seethe, or ride out the panic attack. Whatever it is.

Sitting in the warm sunshine, the sounds of leaves rustling in the wind, and the sight of flower pedals floating in the air fill him with deep, somber nostalgia for comfortably sitting and chatting with Chayanne & Lullah. Watching sunsets too. This is one of few times he'll actually do something to the effect of the previous hc and just let himself sit and Feel. He just can't do it alone, he needs the Murder to sit with him & chat.

Some things he'll do when he actually let's himself sit somewhere & vibe: chat with the Murder, fish, sketch something he sees (often Dorothy), organize his inventory (rarely).

Nowadays he also sketches things of Chayanne & Lullah, sometimes Missa, occasionally Techno. He also really likes doodling random emblems and sigils, often meant for the gods (minus EK) or Techno.

Btw he still gets paranoid about resource gathering, inventory management, and collecting cool stuff ever since his possession. :) Even now that he's back in the Hardcore world, where it's ironically more unlikely that Ender King can/will hurt him, he gets anxious about over-indulging his crow brain.

He's not ALWAYS treating the Murder like it's on sight. Sometimes he'll sit and preen their feathers (or his own while they do their own), he has a massive feeder full of any treat a crow would find yummy imaginable, and half the time they go on those walks/flights he should take to de-stress more often, it's for them because they're the little shits that love to travel so much. He's an explorer and historian/archivist, sure, but he tends to stick to the structures of the gods that he's discovered.

Which btw calling back to that Deep Dark Deity, if they end up existing in canon (and if not, this will be canon for my AU or whatever), he hasn't met/discovered them or their structures yet bc he's too cautious to explore the Deep Dark thoroughly. :)

Honestly this feels like a low-hanging fruit hc that I'm sure tons of people have, but Phil desperately wants to bring Missa to the Hardcore world some day to show him the builds and teach him about the gods.

When he got back to the Hardcore world after QSMP, he took some time to recover emotionally and then anxiously visited Endlantis to add some,, security to the cave Ender King's corpse is sealed in. Will it work? Probably not. But it makes him feel safer.

He has a journal/scrapbook type thing documenting everything he sees & learns about the deities and their associates (ex: He & She). He wishes he could've brought it with him to Quesadilla Island so he could've taught Chayanne & Lullah more about them in detail. But they're somewhere in the world with him now, so he's sure they've learned more over the last 4 months. :)

#philza #qsmp philza #q!philza #hc!philza #philza hardcore #hardcore philza #hardcore season 4 #qphil headcanons

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hrts4wonu · 2 years ago

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minghaos who takes his time when drawing any portrait of you, making sure to get every detail of your beauty

a/n: oh my god jasmine??? i just started reading your fanfics last night and let me tell you, i was so damn obsessed; i'm not sure if this is a hard thought or anything but i did try to make it smut (with a little bit of fluff and comfort)

wc: 1.7k

today was like any other day. well, not technically. today was your boyfriend's project's due date. he was supposed to draw a portrait of the person that means a lot to him; though he first thought of his very own mother, he remembered the first few words you said when you met him.

(flashback)

those few sweet words that came out of your mouth like it was nothing; "i love your artstyle, maybe you should draw your future girlfriend, yeah?" you chuckle as he turned to look at you. "pardon?" he says, a little confused.

"i'm talking about me, hao." he laughs at your straightforwardness and displays a warm smile at you while he remains seated.

you laugh along comfortably, sitting next to him while staring at the canvas that was filled with colorful strokes of red, orange, yellow, blue and pink. "you assume too much, don't y'think?" he teased as he cups your cheeks, tucking your hair behind your ear. "well, you never know, do you?" both of you chuckle together before he picks up his paintbrush and finishes his artwork.

(end of flashback)

that was long ago, yet, the memory itself never fails to melt his heart. though, he couldn't deny; he has drew you before. a couple of times actually.

the problem was, all of them just seemed bad to him. he doodled and sketched your face everyday in class; thinking that everytime he drew you with a different pen or pencil, his sketches get more terrible each day. (and yet he still managed to get good grades even though he doesn't pay attention in class because he's always drawing you)

and so, he never showed you, until you found his sketchbook in his room on your 5th monthsary. he was pretty embarrassed about it, but your praises on his drawings were enough to boost his ego and confidence.

while he quietly sits down on his chair, staring into his computer, he slowly turns to look at you with a nervous smile on his face.

"darling," he starts off, standing up and approaching you on the bed. you hum in response, dropping your phone and looking back at him. "do you want to become my reference? it's for an art project."

you nod, changing your position on the bed. "what do you need me to wear? a dress, or--"

"need you nude, baby." the temptation from his voice was enough to electrify something inside of you; feeling a bit flustered from what he said. "..if you're comfortable with it, of course. i wouldn't want to make myself look like i'm into creepy things like this, yeah?" he adds. "if you really don't wanna, it's fi--"

"mm." you shook your head no. "it's fine," though it seemed aberrant to minghao (because of how much of a gentleman he is), the longing ache in you was basically killing you.

a few minutes later, you slowly got out of the bathroom with a robe on. you were nervous of him judging you, the way your body was built, your skin tone, or maybe that was just your neediness that's getting to you.

he puts on a smile and gives you a warm hug, "take it off when you're ready, hm?" minghao whispers in your ear, leaving a small kiss.

you nod, "yeah."

minghao slowly lets go and stands behind his canvas; squeezing out all the paint onto his palette. he quickly grabs his paintbrush and starts speaking up once more, "hey," he sat down on the tiny chair. "there's still time to back out if you're really not into thi--"

"minghao? is there something wrong?" you throw your robe to the side, crossing your arms which squished your tits from below a bit.

he shook his head, "no, not at all." he looks away and focuses back on his canvas.

minghao couldn't help but stare at you for a bit longer, he didn't know what to say or do at all. it's not like there is a problem- it's that you're there, with no clothes on, and you're on full display.

but besides that, you're gorgeous.

absolutely admirable and so, so, so, so, so beautiful. to him and only him. maybe even to the whole world.

countless hours pass by and minghao was finally done with his work, "baby?" he stands up and dusts his hands off.

"did you fall aslee- oh." you quietly let out muffled moans as you try fingering yourself on the sofa; if only you could see the greed and devotion in his eyes while he painted your figure, he would've dropped his paintbrushes to the floor and take care of you already.

the sweet smile on his face disappears and instead turns into a wicked yet sinister smirk.

minghao cups your cheeks. "let me help you baby, yeah?" he coos, crouching down to give you a soft kiss on the lips before falling onto his knees.

"p-please.." you beg, withdrawing your hand from your pussy but before you could wipe it on the couch, minghao grabs it and slides it in his mouth, licking your small digits that were unlike his long, veiny hands. "hao.." you whine at the sight.

"what is it, pretty girl?" he places his hands on both of your thighs, spreading them apart. "need me?"

you nod. "i've been longing, hao."

he starts kissing your inner thighs; wet lips enough to get you even wetter than you were 10 seconds ago. though your legs were now resting on his shoulder, he still had a firm grasp on them. his nails dug onto your skin, leaving temporary crescent-shaped nail marks onto them.

"so have i, darling." he replies, leaning in towards your pussy, his nose bumping with your clit.

you whine when you feel the pleasure; it's overwhelming, yes, but it feels so good that you can't even utter a single word. not even a single one, the only thing you can let out is a moan.

he licks your pussy's lips and starts eating you out, the sweet taste not leaving his tongue. "f..fuck, hao,"

"mind your language or i'm gonna leave you aching on this sofa, y/n." he threatens and you slightly look away in embarrassment when you saw his bloodthirsty eyes darken in lust. "you wouldn't want that, would you?" he leans back, away from you as the wind's cold breeze comes in contact with your skin.

you shook your head no gently, replying to his question. "well, it's not like you could ever leave me hanging like that, hao." you tease.

he scoffs; "there's always a first time for everything, sweetheart. you should know that." he stood up and quickly switches your position in missionary, pinning you down on the sofa and pressing your legs against your chest and his.

"but, hey." you look at him in confusion as he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. it was long and veiny, t'was so outstanding and beautiful. something so out of this world. "contrary to what mingyu said before," he breathes, fixing his position on top of you as he leans close enough to your ear. "most of the greatest works of art don't know how great they are not because they're unreal, instead, it's because they don't see the talent in the artist's eyes that were enough to make the painting as appealing as it already is." his hot breath against your ear makes you tremble, "you're just like an artwork, you know?" he teases.

"really?" he nods. "you think so?" your cute puppy eyes, begging and pleading for his angry, red tip was enough to send him to the edge but as punishment, he will make you wait longer.

after a few more minutes of teasing, he finally gives in and thrusts inside of you.

you moan loudly, holding onto his body, yet it seemed so unfair because you were basically naked and he still had his shirt on. "mm.." he looks at you, stopping his thrusting as he felt a little confused.

"what is it, hm?" you slowly tug at his shirt and he finally gets it. "ah, i see." he smirks and takes his shirt off.

he goes back to thrusting inside of you and you let out another moan, "m-mmh!"; he grunts as he thrusts even harder, not stopping for even a breath.

you squirm, putting your hand over your mouth to keep your mouth shut yet you can't help yourself but moan even louder. he notices this and he stops for a moment, leaving you hanging which made you ache for more (though it's not like he could pull out because your pussy was basically sucking him back in), grabbing your hand pinning them over your head as he fucks into you.

"h..hao!" you moan loudly as you felt him hitting that 'sweet spot' inside of you. "hao.." you breathe, starting to pant as your legs start trembling. "i-.. i'm so close.." you whine continuously as his hand lets go of your wrists, traveling down to your nipples.

he rubs them gently, leaning in and licking them clean. minghao does the same for the other breast making you moan and yearn for more;

"i..i'm gonna cum, please.." you beg.

"please what, baby?" he smirks, pulling his lips away from your lips and staring into your doe eyes. "tell me," he starts. "tell me what you need, i'll give you everything. every single thing just for you, my lovely, pretty girl."

you look at him with desire and thirst. "need to cum, please.."

everything was testing him; no, no, no.. that's not the right word, is it? let's try that again-- everything was arousing him. it felt like you were tormenting eachother using their own bodies. everything was so tempting to him, he couldn't help but give in; "cum for me, princess," he says with a smirk on his face. "do it, make me proud, okay?"

it wasn't that long until you reach your climax and you came on his cock. he helps you ride your orgasm until he reaches his, planting his seed inside of you.

the both of you catch your breathes together before he pulls out of you and places a warm, loving kiss on your temple; "come on, let's clean you up, hm?" despite being exhausted, you shot him a smile and he stood up, carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. "mhm.." you manage to say, still trying to catch your breath from what had just happened.

"hao, i love you." you say, with a smile on your face as you return his kiss back, instead, this time it was on his lips. "i love you too, baby."

a/n 2: sorry this took so long,, i had work and i was slightly busy.. but anyways, i'm FINALLY done! it didn't turn out how i expected it to be yet i still think it's a little better than what i usually write. besides that, i'm really, really glad to make a minghao fanfic so please ask / request for more <3

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