#so i guess i have to be thankful that there was a thing that happened that made me sad instead of just Brain making bad chemical.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

reader pronouns: she/her Glenn was up early. Maggie was still sleeping and she needed it... so he'd headed downstairs and dug through the cabinets until he found an old box of chai tea. He'd put on the kettle, poured his own cup and a spare, and sat himself down at the kitchen island, and he waited.

And right on time, Daryl's boots shuffled up the stairs from the basement and he dragged himself into the kitchen to face another day.

"Hey," Glenn greeted him kindly. Daryl looked up, struck by someone else being awake at the early hour.

Daryl tried to answer, but nothing came out at first until he cleared his throat, and then he managed a gravelly, 'Hey" in return.

"You look terrible," Glenn said sympathetically.

"...Thanks," Daryl growled back. Then he noticed that there was a second cup of tea sitting on the kitchen island beside Glenn. Swirls of steam lazily rose and drifted in the air.

"Come on and sit down for a minute. I think we should talk," Glenn said. He gestured to the stool in front of the mug.

Daryl hesitated, but then went to join him.

"I think I know why you've been looking so rough lately," Glenn said.

Daryl stared back at him, his blue eyes narrowed in something remarkably like suspicion. "I just ain't slept—"

"—since she left," Glenn interrupted. "I know. And it's not exactly a coincidence. Is it?" he asked.

Daryl shifted nervously and dropped his gaze to the counter, to his boots, to the mug sitting untouched in front of him, to anything except Glenn.

"When Maggie and I got separated after—after the prison... it was agony. I mean, I really thought that if I couldn't find her... I'd just give up and die. That would be it, you know? Because nothingness seemed like the better option compared to living without her." Daryl's blue eyes furtively glanced up to meet Glenn's. "But I knew, I knew, that she was out there. And that kept me going and it was the only thing that could put my world right again. So I did everything I could in my power to make that happen."

Daryl gulped and chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, so hard that he tasted the tang of copper. "Why're ya tellin' me this?" he drawled, his voice gritty and tired.

"You know why. She's the one who sets your world right. And if that's true... then you have to go after her and bring her back. Whatever it takes. You have to find her and tell her. And I'm not telling you anything that you don't already know. I'm just trying—to... speed it along a little, I guess," he said with a dry laugh and a sympathetic look. "Whatever is stopping you—" Glenn shook his head, "fuck it. Do it. Set your world right, Daryl. You can't keep going like this. More than that, you shouldn't." Prompt: "I haven't slept since she left." A/N: I'm not crying. It's just raining on my face...

[bunnys-kisses]

the dnf club (vol. 4)

lance stroll

tags: smut/pwp, brazil gp '24, mating press, car sex, breast play, hickies & bites, semi-public sex, dirty talk, mentions of children

a/n: thank you for the warm reception for the others in this little series! i'm always open to hearing about what ideas you may have. my inbox is open <3

carlos edition // franco edition // alex edition // nico edition

you know this was defeating for lance. the kind of defeating that left you feeling horrible for your boyfriend. while he wasn't going to win the wdc, it was important to have a good season. and when you watched the red flag be drawn and him hauled back to the paddock. you only knew how to be there for him.

while he seated to cool off, you pressed yourself up against him. the level he was at meant that your breasts were in his face. and while it was an innocent action. lance grabbed your ass when no one was looking. you knew what would happen tonight, to get the anger out from a shitty performance.

you two barely got to the car before lance was all over you. he practically guided you into the backseat. the car was in a far part of the parking lot and with tinted windows. it was a tad cramped back there but you two would make due. especially when lance got his hands on you.

"you really are my number one fan, huh? but i guess you're much more than that. you're everything to me." he pushed up your t-shirt to expose your bra underneath. a black lacy number that made the blood rush south for lance, "anything i want, you give. quite an admirable thing." he got the bra off of you and his mouth on your chest. he tongue grazed across your nipples. he gave them both attention before he started to leave heavy marks across your chest.

he wanted to mark you. he wanted to see pretty bruises on your chest that'll last for days on end. and when they faded, he would just add more. he felt the disappointment of such a horrible loss. he didn't even get a place in the race, he couldn't complete it. and it made emotion swirl in his gut as he rubbed your thigh. soon enough you got your jeans off and your panties. you were left naked in the backseat with your lover at the track.

"you look prettier with my marks." he said as he pressed one of the bruises on your collarbone, "the kind of pretty that makes me go crazy. thank you, thank you." he groaned, "for letting me take out all the anger."

you cupped his face and looked into his dark eyes, you said to him, "you'd never actually hurt me, lance. so i'm not worried." then kissed him square on the mouth. you helped him out of his jeans and his aston martin t-shirt. you were pressed into the back corner of the backseat with your taller boyfriend crowded in your space. he took you by the legs and pressed them into your chest.

it allowed him to hit your pussy at just the right area, exposed in the air of the car. slowly the windows started to fog up as he sank into you. his cock really did hit every right place inside of you. the blunt head rubbed up against your g-spot as he started to move his hips up against your ass.

and then like butter over popcorn, the anger melted off of his shoulders. he groaned as he rutted against you. while it wasn't the more comfortable position, it was enough to get the two of you going. you felt the fire in your gut as he moved against you.

"fuck, baby." he said as he worked his hips against you, "you feel like a dream under me." his words were tense as pleasure combed through his body. there was something about you that just got him riled up. even on his worst days, he still had you. he had all of you. he allowed himself to bask in what made you amazing and fuck you until he got his fill. he could feel the pleasure on his tongue and seep into his blood.

you whined, "please, lance. we have to be quiet." then felt him hit just the right spots that made you tense up and moan. your bruised nipples got hard and the additional feeling made the pleasure run faster through you.

the air of the car got warm as the two of you moved together. the sex was hot and with your knees to your chest the pleasure only got more intense.

"next year.' you panted, "it'll go great. you'll get them next time." you moaned as lance continued to thrust up against you in just the right way. you felt the hammer in your chest as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts.

"it will." he said, "and then we'll celebrate the victory. you, me and a nice hotel bed. maybe some champagne, maybe i'll even tie you up." he chuckled, "i bet you'd love that. if i took my belt and put it around those pretty wrists."

you clenched around him and he got his answer. he continued to fuck you, bully the blunt head of his cock against your most softest areas. he knew exactly how to make you feel good. let the dirty words come off his tongue. you whined and he chuckled lowly.

"ah, i bet you'd love that. even if i lost next year. you'd still let me mark up your little body. let me ruin that sweet fucking cunt." he groaned, "fuck, you feel amazing. you know i'd give you anything you needed or wanted. everything i have is yours. and everything you have in mine." he shuddered with a heavy want as he continued to fuck you achy cunt.

the sounds of sex filled the car, and the scent of sweat paired with it. the car rocked a little as he moved and you tried to meet his thrusts. his weight pressed on you as he had you in a mating press. your pussy exposed in the low light coming from the parking garage. the sight of you under him was beautiful. you were so perfect for him, you'd happily give yourself over to him at any chance. let him use that sweet cunt for stress relief.

"fuck, lance." you moaned as the pace was picked up. you knew you weren't going to last much longer. the pleasure was a thick throb in your head as he fucked you. his lips captured any skin he could find. trailed them across your cheeks and jaw. he even laid a small hickey on the curve of your jawbone. which made you grow even more wet.

he gave a few more thrusts because he slammed his entire length into your achy cunt and finished inside of you. but he wasn't going to leave you without pleasure. he continued to rut up against you. he could feel the fire in his gut as he moved against you. your noises got a bit ore higher pitched as you felt the slam of pleasure inside of your needy core.

you whimpered and whined as he continued to rut up against you. he fucked you through your orgasm, and even a second orgasm for himself. he made sure that not a drop was wasted as he slowed to a stop. he pulled out and when your hips dropped, a bit of his cum got onto the leather of the seated.

you both panted heavily. lance eyed your naked body. you looked at him and his dark eyes soon lingered on you. he pulled you in for another heated kiss and you knew this wasn't going to be the only round tonight. you just hoped that the rest of them would be somewhere a little more comfortable.

-

you watched lance pull into second place at the 2025 brazil grand prix. you stood with the rest of the team and when he crossed the finish line, everyone cheered. and you looked to the baby in your arms.

he was sound asleep despite his father's near victory. your little escapade in the backseat of the car led to the eventually birth of your son three months ago. he was asleep in your arm, ears covered with noise cancelling headphones while lance was having a stellar season.

"he did it, daddy got podium." you whispered to your son.

you kissed the baby on his round little face and heard lance over the radio. you knew this year would be better, and that was becoming fact. <3

[leona-hawthorne]

My hogwarts house is hufflepuff and my favourite class is care of magical creatures :)

also i hope you don’t mind if i send a couple asks for the different things(? like the espresso etc sorry i’m dumb sometimes)

hey!!! you're not dumb bb, that's a totally valid question! you're welcome to send in as many requests as you want :) thank you for requesting, i chose theo for you—hope you enjoy 💌

1k celebration navigation

ミ★ LATTE ART... theodore nott

Out by Hagrid’s hut, you carefully balanced an armful of warm pumpkin pastries wrapped in a soft linen cloth, the sweet, spiced aroma curling up in the cold autumn air. Each step crunched in the frost-kissed grass as you tiptoed closer to Buckbeak, who eyed you curiously from his tether.

Your Hufflepuff scarf slipped down as you leaned over, and you pushed it back up with one elbow, squinting in concentration. Buckbeak tilted his head, his great orange eyes blinking with anticipation as you held up a pastry, your quiet offering to the majestic creature before you.

“Easy there,” you whispered, voice barely above a murmur. Buckbeak’s sharp beak was mere inches away, his feathers rustling in the faint breeze as he dipped his head toward the treat. You held your breath, smiling as he gingerly nibbled at the pastry, utterly enchanted by the way he ate so delicately for a creature so fierce.

“You here for detention, too?” a low voice drawled from behind.

Startled, you jerked around, clutching the pastries close as if they were some illicit contraband. Standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets and one brow raised, was Theodore Nott. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, his blue eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and amusement. You swallowed, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Oh, no,” you stammered, clutching the linen-wrapped treats a little tighter. “I, um… I’m not here for detention.”

“Really? And here I thought Hufflepuffs didn’t break the rules.” He nodded toward the pastries and Buckbeak, a teasing gleam in his eye. “Guess I’ve been proven wrong.”

You laughed nervously, shifting on your feet as your face grew warmer. “I—well, I just thought Buckbeak deserved some treats for being so well-behaved in class earlier… it’s not really breaking rules… is it?”

You felt shy as he looked you over, amusement dancing in his eyes. Though his expression was soft, there was a certain intrigue behind it, like he’d discovered a particularly interesting book on a forgotten shelf. “Depends,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with a subtle tease. “Does feeding dessert to a hippogriff happen to have any ulterior motives?”

His words made you laugh, the tension slipping away, and you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Not at all. It’s not like I was bribing him for something. And it’s just a one-time thing, I swear.”

“Good to know,” he replied, his tone softer, and his gaze didn’t leave yours. “What’s your name?”

You hesitated, the lingering warmth on your cheeks flaring anew. “It’s Y/N.”

He gave you a slight nod, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, Y/N… I’m Theo.”

“I know who you are…” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. The blush on your cheeks intensified, and you looked down, too flustered to meet his eyes.

His smirk grew, and he chuckled softly. “Ah, you do, do you?”

You managed a small nod, glancing up just enough to catch the way he was watching you, an unreadable warmth in his gaze. In that moment, you felt it—a flutter of something new, something curious and exciting. 

Buckbeak, having grown impatient, let out a gentle squawk, pulling both your attention back to him. You offered him another pastry, and Theodore watched, an amused smile still playing on his lips.

“I think he’s got you wrapped around his claw,” he remarked, gesturing to the eager hippogriff.

You laughed, feeling a sense of ease despite the flutter of nerves. “Maybe just a little.”

Theodore stepped closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Next time you come out here to spoil Buckbeak, you should save me a pastry. I wouldn’t mind a taste of your little misbehavior.”

You blinked, the fluster returning as you realized he was flirting with you. “I… I will,” you promised, your heart fluttering.

With a final smile, he turned to leave, but not before glancing back at you. “See you around, Y/N.”

You watched him go, your heart racing with the thrill of the unexpected encounter. As Buckbeak nudged your hand, eager for more treats, you couldn’t help but smile, already planning your next visit to Hagrid’s hut and wondering what it might be like to spoil more than just the creatures.

[hvnyrt]

Request/idea: Jason pining for reader, although he’ll never admit it

Voice in the Wind

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for submitting a request! Luckily for you I have no class or work today and was able to get this out same-day for you. :) I went angsty for this request, I hope it's to your liking!

SUMMARY: You have been in love with Jason Todd for a while now, and he had been too, yet he was too trapped in his mind to even take your relationship into consideration.

WARNINGS: Angst, non happy ending :(

WC: 1.9k

The rooftop of a Gotham skyscraper was cold beneath Jason Todd’s boots. His breath formed small clouds in the air, the city’s ever-present hum a background noise to his thoughts. He stood facing the edge, arms crossed, eyes scanning the streets below. It was late — or early, depending on how you looked at it — and the city was bathed in a sickly orange glow from the streetlights. Gotham was always awake, like a predator that never rested, and Jason… Jason was just another hunter in its maze of shadows.

He was trying to focus. ‘Focus, Todd,’ he told himself. ‘Don’t be weak. Stay sharp.’ But there was a problem. Your face kept slipping into his mind. No matter how hard he tried to shove it away, there you were again, with that crooked smile and those damn eyes that could cut straight through his walls.

Your voice rang in his ears. He hated your voice because it followed him everywhere, like an earworm he couldn’t get rid of. And your name. He hated your name because it made him feel like he could say it, like he could speak it aloud and claim it, and he didn’t want to claim anything. Not You. 

"She’s just a distraction," he muttered under his breath, the words lost in the wind. "Just a damn distraction." 

Except you werent. He knew it. 

He didn’t know how you had got under his skin, but you had. It had started innocently enough: a few random meetings while he was on patrol, a conversation here and there. But then something shifted. Something he couldn’t control, couldn’t shake. It wasn’t that he wanted to care about you; he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when he knew better, when he was haunted by the ghosts of his past mistakes. People like him didn’t get to have things like that. People like him didn’t get to have… normal.

It was so fucking frustrating. 

"Stupid." Jason spat the word out as if it could wash away the thoughts, the feelings he didn’t want to deal with. There was no place for feelings in the world he lived in. It was all blood and violence, adrenaline and fear, and you… you were none of that. You were calm. Grounded. Real. You made him feel like he wasn’t constantly running from something.

Nope. Not happening.

"Jason?"

The voice broke through his internal tirade, familiar and warm, cutting through the cold like a blade. Jason didn’t turn around. Didn’t even flinch. But his heart did a strange little lurch. He hated that it did, but it did.

There you were, standing a few feet away, your arms wrapped around yourself to shield against the Gotham night. You didn’t even seem to notice how out of place you were up here — on this rooftop, so far above the city you loved but could never truly understand. You weren't like him. Never would be.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said, his tone as dismissive as he could manage. "Go home, It’s dangerous up here."

Your eyes flickered with that same mixture of concern and defiance he was growing all too familiar with. "And I’m guessing you’re worried about me?" you said, your voice laced with quiet amusement.

Jason’s lip curled slightly, though it wasn’t a smile. More like a reflex. “I worry about everyone, you're no different.” He said flatly, his back still turned.

But even as he said it, the doubt crept in. You had a way of doing that — making him second-guess every cynical, hardened part of himself that wanted to pretend he didn’t care. But he didn’t let it show. He never did.

"I’m not helpless." you said softly, stepping a little closer, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off you. "You don’t need to protect me. You don't have to worry me. Just please, tell me what's on your mind. Talk to me. Let me in." You wanted him so bad to just admit that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You tried too hard to get him to open up to you, to get him to see what your relationship could be. He never listened.

The words hit him harder than they should have. He wanted to argue, to push you away again. You didn’t understand. You didn’t get what the world was really like, what it could do to someone like him. Someone who had already been destroyed once, who didn’t want to give it a second chance.

Instead, he just shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "I’m not your protector. Just someone who knows better."

You raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "So you’re telling me I shouldn’t be out here, too, but you’re not protecting me?" 

Jason didn’t answer. His gaze drifted away from her, back to the city lights, to the shadows below. But he didn’t walk away. He never did.

"You really think I can’t handle myself?" Your voice was quieter now, and for a moment, it almost sounded like you were teasing. Almost. 

Jason let out a breath, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "You think you’re the only one who can handle themselves?" He turned his head just enough to catch her gaze. "This place doesn’t make you stronger. It makes you smarter. And if you’re not smart enough to get the hell out of it, you’ll get crushed. And that’s not something I’m willing to let happen."

The words left his mouth sharper than he’d intended, but he couldn’t stop them now. He never could when it came to you. 

You didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him with those damn eyes that felt like they saw straight through his bullshit. Then, slowly, you took a step closer, not intimidated, but calm.

"Jason, you don’t have to pretend with me. I’m not going anywhere."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, though he’d never admit it. "I’m not pretending," he muttered, too quickly, and too defensively. 

The city stretched out beneath them, vast and indifferent, like a black sea dotted with the flickering lights of a thousand lives he would never touch. Jason stood there, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched. You were still beside him, too close for comfort, your presence a constant reminder of everything he couldn’t afford to feel. 

Focus, he told himself. Don’t let her in. Don’t let her do this to you.

But it was already too late.

You were right. He was pretending. 

Jason’s jaw tightened at the thought, and he could feel the familiar coldness creeping in — the walls he had built so carefully around himself, the ones that were starting to crack and crumble under your quiet, persistent gaze. The feeling of wanting to reach for you, of wanting to say the things that scared him more than anything else in this broken city, gnawed at him like a sickness. 

But no. He couldn’t do it. Not to you. Not again.

"You don’t get it," Jason said, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He didn’t look at you, but he could feel you staring at him, that soft gaze that always seemed to see straight through him. "This isn’t… this isn’t some fairy tale. You can’t just waltz in here and fix me. I’m not… I’m not someone you can save. You don’t know what it’s like, and you never will."

He finally turned to face you, his eyes burning with something he couldn’t even name. "I’m dangerous. And you think you can handle me? You think you can be around me and still come out unscathed? You have no idea what this world does to people like us."

You didn’t back down. Of course you didn’t. You never did. Instead, you stepped closer, her voice low but steady. "I know enough, Jason. I know you’re scared. You don’t have to push me away—"

"Stop," Jason cut you off, his voice sharp, almost desperate. He took a step back, as if your proximity was suffocating him. "Stop pretending like you know me. Like you understand anything about me."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Jason, I—"

"I’m not the guy you think I am!" He didn’t shout, but his voice trembled with the raw emotion he refused to show. "I’m not the guy you can fix. You think I don’t care about you? That I don’t—" He stopped himself, the words lodged in his throat like broken glass. He could already feel the heat in his chest, the thumping of his heart, the same damn pain that had been there since he came back from the dead. 

His fists clenched tighter. "I’m not your fucking hero. I’m a killer. A broken, fucked-up, damaged thing, and you don’t want to get close to that."

The words came out in a rush, desperate, but also… final. His eyes were wild now, the storm inside him too strong to ignore, the war he’d been fighting with himself spilling out in a way he hadn’t intended. 

You stood there, silent for a moment, your face unreadable. Then your expression softened, a mixture of hurt and understanding flickering behind your eyes.

"I’m not trying to fix you," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air between them. "I’m just trying to be here. I’m trying to be someone you don’t have to push away."

Jason didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. The words felt too raw, too close to something real. And that scared him more than anything. 

"You don’t understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You can’t understand. I can’t let you in. Not like this. Not after everything."

He took another step back, further into the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest. Every instinct in him screamed to get away from you, to run, to push you out of his life before you were swallowed up by the darkness he carried with him.

"Jason," your voice was quiet now, soft, like you were trying to reach him through the thick walls he had built. "Please."

But he couldn’t do it. Not for you.

Jason shook his head, more to himself than to you. He turned his back on you, the weight of his decision heavy in the pit of his stomach. His feet moved automatically, the thought of staying with you—of letting you see him, really see him—was too much to bear. 

Before he could even reach the edge of the rooftop, he heard your voice again, fragile but clear.

"You don’t have to do this alone."

He froze. For a second, everything inside him wanted to turn around, to reach for you, to tell you how much he wanted to believe that. How much he wanted to let you in. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let anyone in.

Because when you let someone in, you gave them the power to break you. And Jason was already broken. He couldn’t let anyone else be hurt because of him. Not again.

Without another word, he jumped off the rooftop, vanishing into the night, leaving only the sound of his footsteps echoing in the cold air.

You stood there for a long time, staring into the empty space he had left behind. Your heart felt like it had been crushed under the weight of everything unsaid, everything unacknowledged.

You weren't stupid. You knew what had happened. 

Jason had chosen the darkness. He’d chosen it over you. Over them.

And the worst part was, you didn’t know if you could ever change his mind. 

But one thing was certain: you weren't going to forget him. Not now. Not ever.

Jason thinks people who reblog/like the fics they enjoy deserve a good time :)

[deliciousnecks]

But can we talk about how powerful nandor is? like yeah, he might be a bit silly, and not in touch with the modern world, but if he wanted to, he could have already conquered whatever the fuck he wanted to. (he built an army, and jerry is still looking at maps over there).

like let's just start by pointing out that nandor didn't need to be a vampire to accomplish all these great things that he wanted in life. vampirism only made him more dangerous. nandor has always had too much power in his hands, that he tends to misuse, but that's actually a good thing for the people around him because if not, the truth is that they would be fucked.

He was born in a position of privilege, one that put him later on in his life in positions of power, he was a leader who did fucked up shit. As a vampire, he can hypnotize thousands, but even if he couldn't, nandor knows how to attract people to him when he puts his mind to it, as we were able to see, but guess what? he also has doing everyone around him doing whatever shit he wants, because rarely people can say no to him. What nandor wants, nandor gets (even the stupidest of things).

Now. Don't get me started with his pyrokinesis. The dude can create and manipulate fire. Like come on, you know all the batshit crazy things that he could be doing with that? people should be thankful that he's not going around acting in unhinged ways.

He's a formidable warrior, the fact that he live as long as he did as a human, through battles and wars, and the guy didn't get killed? i don't know, but I think that says a lot about his kills. he also can use a large variety of weapons, so now imagine. This guy who's the greatest warrior of his time, gets the strength and the speed that comes with vampirism. he becomes a fucking killing machine (not like he wasn't one already), but now he's unstoppable and on top of that, immortal!

As i said in the beginning of this post, time and time again nandor has been given power, too much power I should say. he even got those 52 wishes and the things my guy here could have accomplished with them? ridiculous! but he was feeling silly, so... he decided to have fun instead. Good for him.

Now, we now he conquered places and won wars, and while his years as a ruler were bloody, it seems like he did a lot of Al Quolanudar when it comes to territory. What I'm trying to say is that he's a good strategist, he's good, no he's the best at what he does. he excels in what he was trained and taught to do (and even the vampire community acknowledges this).

People always like to underestimate him (the fandom included. it's true.), say that in a battle he stands no chance. That X, Y, and Z are more could easily demolish him, that he can't do shit for himself, but like excuse me, he's the oldest vampire in that house, look at all the shit that he can do, so no. He's the strongest and most powerful piece in that chessboard, mam. Nandor could go on a killing spree and no one could stop him.

This latest season really brought forward this qualities of his that had always been there. Nandor can be competent, he can be assertive, he really just chooses not to, but if he did! well, we saw what can happen when he is.

nandor is powerful, skillful, and dangerous in more than one way, and yes! smart when he needs to be.

And i make this post, because some people have made him into this character that's just an idiot with 0 qualities, and those qualities that he does have, are always being diminished to make other characters look better (yes. to make guillermo look better. i said it, which is highly unnecessary because he can shine on his own).

It's not that he can't do shit, the fact is that he doesn't want to.

[le-higuu]

@pinkyshy10

Transcription:

Stan: wakes up with a gasp. "Ford?"

Ford: "Right here, I'm here."

Ford: "What happened? What's wrong?"

Stan: hugs Ford.

Ford: "Oh! Okay."

Ford: "Okay! Okay, I'm here. I'm right here, Stanley. What happened? Talk to me."

Stan: quietly. "Bad dream."

Ford: "Oh."

Ford: "Do you... Want to talk about it?"

Stan: "...stupid."

Ford: "We've been over this. You're not stupid."

(quiet)

Ford: "You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but... I want to help. If I can."

Stan: "... Pa says so."

Ford: "...Pa?"

Stan: "mhm."

Ford: "Is ... that what you dreamed about? Pa?"

Stan: nods.

Ford: "What ha— Ah. Thank you, Fiddleford."

Stan: "'zat Fidd?"

Ford: "Yes. He's here as well."

Fiddleford: "Yup. Right here, Stan."

Ford: "... Stanley?"

Fiddleford: "He's actin' strange, ain't he? He feel warm?"

Ford: "I don't... think so?"

Fiddleford: reaches for Stan's forehead. "Here, lemme."

Ford: "That's not going to yield very accurate results."

Fiddleford: "You're right, he—"

Stan: shoves Fiddleford away.

Fiddleford: "Oh!"

Ford: "Hey, cut it out. He's trying to help you."

Stan: shoves his hand into Ford's face, snickering.

Ford: "ACK— would you stop that?"

Stan: continues laughing.

Ford: "I swear, you're acting even more childish than usual."

Fiddleford: "Hmm."

Fiddleford: "Stan, how old are you?"

Ford: "What? He's not concussed."

Fiddleford: "Just trust me."

Stan: thinks for a second, then holds up four fingers.

Ford: "Wh— FOUR? How can— How—" to himself, "does he have brain damage?"

Fiddleford: "Hmm."

Ford: "We— Stan, we're twins! We're both 28!"

Fiddleford: "Ford, calm down! It's ok! I think."

Ford: "YOU THINK?"

Fiddleford: "I have a theory."

Fiddleford: "Y'know how sometimes I 'member somethin' an' get all... distant? Like I don't quite know where I am?"

Ford: "Yes...?"

Fiddleford: "When that happens, it feels like the memory is happenin' all over again. Like I'm... stuck."

Fiddleford: "I think this might be somethin' similar."

Fiddleford: "He said he was dreamin' 'bout yer Pa, right? He was prob'ly 4 in the dream."

Ford: "So... He's stuck at that age? But— he never used the memory gun."

Fiddleford: "I ain't so sure that matters. The mind is a delicate thing, Stanford. And yer brother's been through some... unimaginable things."

Fiddleford: "It's prob'ly just his mind tryin' ta process it however it can."

Ford: "... What do you suggest we do, then?"

Fiddleford: "I guess just treat 'im like he's however old he thinks he is?"

Ford: "He's a grown man, Fiddleford! I am not going to treat him like a child!"

Fiddleford: "Well, we can't just force 'im to stop! What if we hurt 'im?"

Ford: "Wh— is that a possibility?"

Fiddleford: "I dunno, Ford! I'm just as confused as you are!"

Stan: sniffles.

Ford: "...Stanley?"

Stan: quietly. "m'sorry. Please don't fight 'cause'a me."

Ford: "Oh... no, Stanley! You did nothing wrong."

Fiddleford: to himself, "Oh, it's just like Tate..." louder, "we were just... havin' a discussion."

Stan: "You're not mad?"

Ford: "No."

Stan: "You sure?"

Ford: "Positive."

Stan: "Extra promise?"

Ford: "Extra promise.*"

Stan: "'kay."

*subscript: Like a pinky promise, but with Ford's extra finger.

Ford: "So... Now what? You wanna go back to bed?"

Stan: "Mm-mm."

Ford: "....How about we built Fort Stan?"

Stan: "Yeah!"

Fiddleford: "What's Fort Stan?"

Ford: "Oh, you'll see."

cough age regressed stanley angst cough

so this is 100% not what you meant by this but for some reason i physically could not move on with my life until i made this comic so here

and then they made a blanket fort and everything was good the end :)

[sosa2imagines]

For dad Bucky, how about little Natalia scared him by announcing she has a boyfriend but the real meaning of sentence is that she made a new friend. And in the end reader clears the misunderstanding.

Thank you so much for this ask, I had lots of fun writing it.

Warning- Fluff, protective dad Bucky.

Bucky had always considered himself to be a simple man. Back in the 30s and 40s, people spoke in proper, full sentences, and communication was a straightforward affair. But now, in the world of today's generation, things seemed to be much more complex. The way people spoke, the slang they used, and even the way they expressed themselves had changed so much.

Bucky was sitting in the living room, sipping his coffee and going through some paperwork when Natalia, his six-year-old bundle of energy and mischief, bounded into the room, a wide grin on her face. She clambered onto the couch next to him and poked him in the arm, trying to get his attention.

Bucky set down his coffee and turned to look at his daughter. “What is it, kiddo?” he asked, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Guess what, Pa?” Natalia exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I have a boyfriend!”

Bucky's heart skipped a beat. He knew what those words meant, and the thought of his daughter having a boyfriend at six years old was not something he was ready to deal with. A storm of emotions roiled inside him, from shock to panic and everything in between.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky tried to keep his voice neutral. “Natalia, sweetheart,” he began, “you can't have a boyfriend at your age. You're only six.”

Natalia's face fell a little, confusion replacing the excitement she had felt just a moment before. “But why not?” she asked, her bottom lip puckering into a pout.

Bucky had to tread carefully here. He didn't want to upset his daughter, but he also didn't want her to think that having a boyfriend at such a young age was acceptable. “Well, sweetheart,” he said gently, “having a boyfriend is something that happens when you're a bit older. You need to focus on being a kid and having fun, not worrying about boys just yet.”

“But everyone in my class has boyfriends and girlfriends!” Natalia protested, her little brow furrowing in confusion.

Bucky's heart dropped even further. The thought of all those kids in her class having relationships at such a young age was even more distressing. He took another deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“Natalia,” he said, trying to keep his voice level, “even if that's true, it doesn't mean you have to have one too. You're still too young for that kind of thing. And I don't want you thinking that it's normal or okay to have a boyfriend at your age. Do you understand?”

“But my teacher is okay with it,” Natalia protested, her voice taking on a hint of defiance. “She even told us to have boyfriends and girlfriends. She said it's important to.”So-cial-ize!”

Bucky's jaw dropped open in shock. What kind of teacher was telling kids in kindergarten to have boyfriends and girlfriends? He struggled to hide his disbelief and anger.

“Natalia,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady, “your teacher told you to have a boyfriend?”

“Yeah, she said it's important.” Natalia replied, completely oblivious to the storm she had unleashed in her father.

Bucky rubbed his forehead, trying to process what he was hearing. This was insane. They were six, for god's sake.

Bucky felt a headache beginning to form behind his eyes. This was shaping up to be a very long day.

He knew he had to set a firm but gentle boundary with Natalia, but the fact that her teacher was apparently not only okay with kids in kindergarten having boyfriends and girlfriends, but actually encouraging it, was making things more complicated.

As you walked through the front door and into the living room, you were expecting the familiar sounds of giggles and fun chaos that usually accompanied Natalia and Bucky together. Instead, you were greeted by an unexpected sight.

The two of them were sitting across from each other, arms crossed over their chests and identical scowls on their faces.

It seemed like a battle of wills was taking place, and neither one of them was backing down.

You stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene before you. Both Natalia and Bucky were still glaring at each other, their expressions identical. With a resigned sigh, you gave them a small nod and headed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

As you stood in the kitchen, sipping your water, you mentally prepared yourself for the coming conversation. You knew there was going to be a lot to discuss.

You walked back into the living room, taking a seat on the couch. Natalia and Bucky got up and came to sit next to you. Natalia being small, she sometimes needed help getting up onto the couch.

“Pa, help please…” she said innocently, and in an instant, Bucky was there to help her, lifting her up onto the couch next to you. At that moment, it was hard to believe they had been glaring at each other just moments ago, it seemed like they had forgotten their argument entirely.

“Thank you, pa.”

“You are welcome, princess.”

As soon as Natalia had settled in beside you, both of them seemed to remember their argument again. The air in the room became tense once more, and their angry expressions returned.

Natalia and Bucky were both still sitting on either side of you, their arms crossed and their gazes fixed on each other. It was as if the short moment of peace had never even happened.

As you took a deep breath, ready to ask what was wrong, both Bucky and Natalia spoke at the same time.

“Our daughter has a boyfriend!”

“Pa says I can't have a boyfriend!”

You couldn't help but do a double take as you heard their simultaneous declarations. Their words had been so similar yet contradictory. It was as if they had rehearsed it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you said, holding up your hands in an attempt to stop them from talking over each other. “One thing at a time, please. Bucky, you go first.”

Bucky started to explain, his voice filled with frustration and disbelief.

“Our daughter has a boyfriend, doll,” he began. “And not only that, but everyone in her class has a boyfriend or girlfriend, can you believe it? And the worst part is, their teacher actually suggested it!”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

You furrowed your brow, trying to wrap your mind around the situation. It seemed so absurd that kids in kindergarten would be having relationships encouraged by their teacher.

“What do you mean the teacher suggested it?” you asked, looking at Bucky for answers.

As Bucky was about to respond, Natalia interrupted and climbed onto your lap. “Excuse me,” she piped up, “it's my turn to speak now!”

You couldn't help but chuckle a little at her cheeky attitude, but you were still concerned about the situation.

You patted her head gently and smiled down at her. “Okay, sweetheart,” you said. “You can speak now. Go ahead.”

Natalia grinned and sat up straighter on your lap, clearly happy to have your full attention.

“Everyone in my class has a boyfriend or girlfriend,” she began, much like her father had. “And Teacher said it's important to have one! She said it helps us be more so-ci-able!”

You furrowed your brow again, focusing on the word “sociable” that Natalia had repeated.

“What do you mean by sociable, princess?” you asked her gently, trying to understand what their teacher had told them.

Natalia seemed to think for a moment, trying to find the best way to explain. “Well,” she said, “Teacher said having a boyfriend or girlfriend means we get to play and talk and spend more time together. She said it helps us be friendlier and have more fun with our friends.”

Bucky interjected, panic evident in his voice. “See?” he exclaimed.

Natalia shot a glare at him, her little face scrunched up in irritation. “Do not in-ter-rupt!” she repeated, pronouncing each syllable separately with a hint of defiance.

You couldn't help but bite back a smile at her little display of sass.

It was clear from the interaction that Bucky and Natalia were both feeling strongly about this situation. Bucky was concerned and worried about Natalia having a boyfriend at such a young age, while Natalia was determined to prove that it was perfectly normal and acceptable.

You turned your attention back to Natalia, curious about this supposed boyfriend of hers. “Sweetheart,” you said, “can you tell me a bit more about this boyfriend of yours? What's his name?”

Natalia's face lit up as you asked her about her boyfriend. “His name is Tommy,” she said, her eyes shining with excitement. “He sits next to me in class, and he shares his snack with me every day!”

As Natalia described the qualities of her “boyfriend,” you began to connect the dots in your mind. Everything she was saying pointed to a simple friendship rather than anything more serious.

With an amused smile, you asked, “Is he your friend, sweetheart? Like a friend who happens to be a boy?”

Natalia's eyes widened slightly as she seemed to consider your question. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, We are friends, and he is a boy. So he is my friend who is a boy. Boyfriend!”

You couldn't help but laugh softly as you realized the situation was just a misunderstanding. You noticed Bucky looking at you, his face a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Oh, Bucky,” you said, grinning at him. “It's not as serious as it seemed. Turns out, Natalia's 'boyfriend' is just her friend who happens to be a boy.”

Bucky's expression didn't soften right away. He frowned, still clearly concerned. “But the teacher still told them to have boyfriends and girlfriends!” he protested. “Doesn't that worry you at all?”

You put a reassuring hand on Bucky's arm, trying to ease his worries.

“Calm down, Bubba,” you said gently. “Natalia's teacher wasn't telling the kids to have romantic relationships. It's just a misunderstanding in the way Natalia explained it. I think what the teacher meant was for the kids to socialize and make friends with each other, including boys and girls.”

Bucky's expression softened slightly upon hearing your explanation. He seemed to relax a bit, the tension in his shoulders releasing.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “That makes more sense. But why use the word 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend'? That's what threw me off.”

You chuckled softly, amused at the confusion caused by Natalia's innocent misinterpretation.

“Bucky,” you said, “I think Natalia is using the terms 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' because in her mind, they simply mean a friend. She's not aware of the romantic context adults associate with those terms. She's thinking 'I have a friend who is a girl, so she is my girl-friend.' or 'I have a friend who's a boy, so he is my boy-friend.' Does that make sense?”

Bucky nodded slowly, seeming to finally understand the situation. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh as the tension faded from his face.

“Yeah, I get it now,” he admitted. “I guess I misunderstood the situation, too. I still think the teacher should've been clearer with her choice of words, though.”

You gave a gentle smile and teased a bit, trying to lighten the mood.

“Or,” you said, “I think our little miss Natalia here needs to work on her storytelling skills a bit better. Dropping the 'I have a boyfriend' bombshell without giving you context was not the best approach.”

Natalia pouted again at your gentle chiding, her lips pursing into a small frown. “I was getting to that part,” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “I just wanted to start with the exciting part first.”

You chuckled at her defensive nature, finding her behavior endearing. “Fair enough, sweetheart,” you said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “But next time, try to give a bit more context before dropping news like that. Your Pa won't be able to handle it.”

Bucky feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart theatrically.

“Hey, I can handle news like that,” he protested, a hint of humor in his voice. “I just need a little warning beforehand, that's all.”

Natalia giggled at her father's exaggerated reaction, her earlier pout replaced by a cheeky grin.

“Don't worry, Pa,” she said, poking him in the side. “I'll give you a warning next time before I reveal any more 'bomb-shells.'”

Natalia, intrigued by the new word, looked up at you with wide eyes and asked, “What's a bomb-shell?”

Bucky chuckled at her question, finding her curiosity adorable. “It's a figure of speech, sweetheart,” he explained. “It means saying something surprising or dramatic, like saying you have a boyfriend.”

Natalia's eyes widened further as she took in the explanation. “Ohhh,” she said, nodding understandingly. “So it's like when I say, 'You'll never guess what I found in my lunch box today!' and it's a surprise?”

You chuckled at her analogy, impressed by her ability to connect concepts. “Exactly, sweetheart,” you said, patting her head. “It's like that. A bombshell is just a big surprise.”

As Natalia got down from your lap and headed over to her toys, she called back over her shoulder, her voice filled with excitement.

“Oh, and Pa, I can't wait to have a playdate with Tommy!”

Bucky's eyes widened at Natalia's mention of a 'playdate' with Tommy, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

With a resigned sigh, you muttered under your breath, “Here we go again...” knowing that Bucky was likely to misinterpret the innocent term 'playdate' and start overthinking again.

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[theonlymanny]

Bruce Wayne x Batdad Reader!

Being Bruce’s husband wasn’t as easy as you thought there were a lot of difficulties in your life while being married to him.But it was all good he loved and you loved him. Simply as that, you guys met because you where a famous singer and met at one of his galas.

At first he was all flirty and honoring his playboy persona. You didn’t show any interest at first because who doesn’t flirt with M/n. But Bruce was kind of charming and really nice. Beside everything you heard from him. And then you woke beside him in bed. “Oh my fucking-” anyway- let’s leave that behind.

After that night you thought he would leave you like it never happened and keep going on with his life, but surprisingly he invited you on a date. A couple years later you met Alfred a really nice person and enjoyed your company. And all of that disappeared because your 5 year boyfriend left you without a word for 10 fuckin years.

“Hey Alfred have you heard from Bruce I didn’t see him today” “oh master M/n… I thought you knew…” after that you promised to never trust anyone that easily, sure it affected you but you weren’t going to stop and be miserable. You decided to take out some new songs.

“M/N is back!” Your fans were going crazy! Everybody thought you quit the music career and left. And… Bruce well not like he didn’t care about you he just wanted to make a change. He was training to protect you and Alfred. And then he was there your “boyfriend” you were spending time with Alfred. You weren’t going to leave him alone for 10 whole years!

“H- hi umm…” Bruce looked at you. He looked much muscular and old… “ Alfred I think I should go…” you took your things and while you were about to open the door Bruce grabbed your hand. “Don’t you-” “please let me explain…” you lost right there “what Bruce!? Explain that you left me for 10 years!” Bruce was shocked. He remembered you much calmer and shy.

You let him explain why he leaved you. Because you were still young you gave him another opportunity. Some years later you met Richard or Dick who you protected with your life and refused to let him be robin. “Sweetheart please…” you refused to look at him “Bruce it’s too dangerous for a literal kid to be fighting grown ass men or women who want to hurt him!” Dick heard your discussion somewhat regretting he asked Bruce to be his sidekick. You saw Dick on the corner wanting to cry… “oh… Richard why are you crying?” “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to fight I I- just wanted to help.” You sighed “I’m not sure if I’m going to regret this but… I guess you can go help Bruce…” Bruce smiled and Dick celebrated and hugged you. “Thank you!” You looked at Bruce and said darkly“Bruce if something happens you are going to regret being Batman” Bruce only laughed and hugged both of you.

After some years Dick grew older and became a teenager. “Hey Dick what do you want to eat today?” Dick really grew trust in you that he called you dad first than Bruce. “Dunno dad maybe some pancakes??” And while Dick and Bruce were patrolling Bruce found Jason a young boy trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason really liked you he had a better relationship with you then Bruce or Dick. He would often ask you to read him books. It was like that until that day… Joker captured Jason. “hey Bruce!” When you went to the bat cave you only found Dick and Bruce. “Where’s Jason?” You were more then devastated when he died.

You and Bruce barely spoke, Dick tried to make you both love each other again, but he couldn’t even make you both sleep in the same bed. After 1 or 2 years Bruce decided to adopt another kid. Tim. That’s when you started thinking about divorce.

“Really!? Another kid you wanna harm this one too?” You started loosing respect from Bruce, but there was nothing you could do he was so stubborn.

In those years that Tim became and trained to be a robin. You also trained… to kill the guy that took your son. You learned how to use every weapon you had on your use, you where stronger and faster, and learned a lot of fight movements.

The day you heard your third son was captured… you didn’t let Bruce handle this. You went there by yourself with a shotgun,gun, rifle, a lot of more utensils that would help you get your son back.

The building was quiet there was no sign of life but only lifeless body’s all around you opened the door and automatically shot the Joker on his knee. “Aaaaaaaaah!” He screamed in agony while watching you above him. “Tim… go.” Tim looked at you and before he left he hugged you. “It will be okay…” after you made sure he left you grabbed a metal pipe and left the Joker on a wall. “Hahahahahahah! Let me guess you are going to kill me! WOW I’m so scared!” You looked at him angrily and hit him with the metal pipe. “ SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He spat blood all over the floor. “Batsy is not gonna let you kill me” he laughed quietly. “Well guess what… I will make sure he doesn’t interfere. And I my self will make sure you don’t take anyone else’s kid again” Joker looked confused but then realized. “You are robins Dad! Batman’s husband!” That name hurted you… “well guess what it was so fun I don’t regret it.” He was pushing your limits. You started breathing loudly and one by one you killed the man that killed your kid.

————————————————————————

Hey yall! I think this was my longest post but I hope y’all like it. I leaved a tlou reference In there. That’s all! There might be part 2 tho.

[evertidings]

— OCTOBER 2024.

accomplishments.

ahh i can’t believe it’s november (almost typed october there, great going me). it’s so wild to think we’re almost at the new year. i say that every time holiday season rolls around, but i genuinely feel it every year. so so crazy.

onto actual writing stuff: i hope you all enjoyed chapter eleven!! it’s been a month since it was released and i got such great reception from it, so thank you for reading and for saying such wonderful things to me. i spent the first bit of this month taking a break from writing (and recovering from the mental toll chapter eleven took on me), but i’m back at it now and i’m pleased to say that chapter twelve is in the works.

i'm currently writing one of two big branches in the book featuring, you guessed it, the ros. i know i've said this a lot lately, but we are truly very close to the romance lock and i want to make sure you have ample one-on-one time with the ro(s) of your choice before that happens. it's mostly for development reasons, but it definitely doesn't hurt that you get more time with your faves, right? thank me later.

to give you a little glimpse of chapter twelve, i'll vaguely say that Eliana's meeting will be a doozy. she's on a completely different level from Mirai and i already know i'm going to have so much fun writing that scene. i have plans to add tons of details and flavour text, and while it'll probably be more complicated than it needs to be (causing my future self to curse me out), i think it'll be really worth it. the intricacies of this game may be tedious at times, but i also think it's what makes it flourish (and loved) so i'm more than happy to do it. plus it gets me excited so hehe.

overall, the goal for this month involves writing. tons of writing. i don't have a date for chapter twelve yet since it's much too early, but i don't want to make you all wait ten months again, so i'm working my hardest! this chapter is going to be difficult to write (really though, when do i not struggle with writing?) but i'm really excited for it. Eliana's scene will truly be one for the books.

as always, take care of yourselves <3

stats.

chapter total: 9305 words

game total: ~520,780 words

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 7/11✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: AWIUSBSWDN I LOVE your art especially your LMK comic! Wanted to ask if you've seen that one fan art on twitter from @/Jay_chaos_art on twitter (or X) That is the part where little MK is holding Macaque's finger AAAA that scene is too cute! Also poor MK :']

Awww I saw that! It's sooooo good!!! For anyone wanting to see it, check it out HERE!

Anonimo ha chiesto: ᴡʜᴇ�� ɪ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡᴘᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ᴀᴜ ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏ ɪ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇsᴜɴ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ? ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ɪᴛ's ᴀ sᴏɴɢ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜᴛᴜʙᴇ.ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ!

Aw thanks for the song rec!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: If I remember correctly macaque can hear people thoughts so I just imagine mk having thoughts about ✨courtnapping✨ and macaque just hears it

Macaque is just

Anonimo ha chiesto Mei if she knew what was going on inside MK’s head. Mei: it’s called being a “Furry” MK it’s the biggest plus to have in a world filled with anthropomorphic animal Yaoguai. That and the awesome magic stuffs.

me too Mei, the fuck

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soo that time when shadowpeach were at pigzi's and saw tang with the "bite mark"🌝 Did they realise what was goinn on?? Will they like ask mk or smt about it? *I can imagine the shock on their faces*

They don't know if either to be shocked or not since they called it

@straightally2001 ha chiesto: I love and hunger for Spicynoodles! 🍜🔥 What if during demon courting season, Pif decides that even though her son is strong she doesn't want to risk her son to end up court napped by some demon stranger that he doesn't even like. She wants him to be happy. So, she goes to MK and tells him about Red Son's feeling for him and convinces him to courtnap Red Son.

asjcajcb can't answer yet bc of spoilers!!

@stardynamite ha chiesto: I was desperately searching for another good fandom fanfic to latch onto here because I can’t draw fanart at the moment and you have saved me for my eternal searching with your lmk au, thank you sire🫡 I am forever indebted to you for thouesth servicesth

Aw thank youu!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: What would a demon do with the other person after they courtnapped them? Like is it just a forced date?

Nah I mean, If they refuse the courtnapping the captors has to release them otherwise they would just look like an asshole. If they agree then it's more of a surprise date.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Other demons who have tried to cournap wukong seeing Macaque do it with ease: HOW THE FUCK DID HE NOT DIE

He has the advantages that Wukong is a Simp

@wolfsonic ha chiesto: AWWWWWW!!! I LOVE THESE MONKIESSS! I just imagine Mk and Mac training with shadows, and Mk decided one day to practice his shadows by trying to tickle WuKong!

betrayed by his own son

@phoenixeclipse-lmkau ha chiesto: Is Macaque going to have to re-courtnap Wukong because they broke up before? Or would Wukong Courtnap Macaque after all this. Or are they just gonna skip the courtnapping part since they already did it in the past?

depends if we go by the headcanon that courtnapping=marriage

@elixcv ha chiesto: HI! first of all, I just wanna say that I LOVEEEEEEE you bio parent AU, it simply scratches something in my brain. I wish you all the good things in the world(⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧ Now, in second place, I have 2 questions (and dw, if it's smth u don't/can't answer i don't mind, i just wanna say it, i guess?): 1. In your AU, pigsy is some kind of lower/not-so-strong demon? And, if he is, did he also Courtnapping Tang in his own way? 2. Can the courtnapping go both ways? Like, it just can happen one time per couple, or is a requirement that u have to courtnapping the other person back to show ur feelings? Bc, I can see a MK Courtnapping RS, and then RS trying to Courtnapping back, and in my head is like they're playing around the city in a complicated game of tag, or a hide n' seek. This can also apply to swk and macaque. I appreciate your thoughts about anything of this, even if I'm wrong in every way. I'm so excited about this AU and really love the way you write/draw it (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤ (sorry for the bad English, I know to read/hear but the grammatical is always a pain in my ass ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

Yes, he's a lower demon, but in the end, it was Tang who did the courtnapping bc he thought that Pigsy wouldn't date him if he didn't court him the demon way, while Pigsy was planning on courting him the human way.

Yes. I think courtnapping can go both way but it's not a must or expected to.

@straightally2001 ha chiesto: I was reading your last post about MK and his mortality and I was wondering, if MK was on the verge of dying and there was no other way to save him would Monkey King give him a Peach of Immortality? Would MK be upset about it? Also sorry if this question is too angsty 😅 Anonimo ha chiesto: Isn't redson immortal due to being half celestial or fallen celestial idk? Wouldn't he try to convince mk to take it if they get together? @purpleprinceblood ha chiesto: I think Wukong desperately wants Mk to be immortal but also knows that a) Mk would hate it and b) Wukong would too Like, dude has severe depression from his immortality and his friends leaving him, I think he would hate to watch Mk deal with that I could see Wukong offering Mk a life span growing thing, like in jttw iirc the peaches add like 500 years to your life span, Wukong just eats so many of them that they make him immortal, so I could see him offering it as a "I'm scared to lose you but also don't want you suffering like I do" @sakurablossoms-world ha chiesto: Wouldn’t MK technically be long-living since he’s the child of two powerful entities, I mean Redson is 500 and he’s considered to be in his early 20’s by mortal comparison, so wouldn’t it be expected that he’d outlive everyone (Redson and maybe Mei being an exception)? So while he would still value his mortality, immortality wouldn’t really make that big a difference in hindsight. Then again I could be mistaken.

I think MK wouldn't like to become immortal against his choice regardless. Yes, in S1 we see he wanted to become one, but I think he still was in that phase were he just wanted to be/do everything like his hero. And that included eating a peach of immortality. I don't think he ever thought of the implication of being immortal

@yainmy ha chiesto: If Mk has been developing more of Macaques powers does that mean he can develope shadow clones like Rumble and Savage? Or will it be a chaotic nightmare like that one clones episode in the series?

He can only control one shadow clone: his own shadow!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello, I'm too nervous to send this non-anonymously, but I was wondering if I could take inspo from your ShadowPeach Bio parents AU for my own AU called Twins Of The Cycle? It's an AU with my oc, I basically just gave MK a twin.

Nope. If you want to ask for permission, you need to ask me not in anounymous.

@oddogoblino ha chiesto: Random but I find it so silly to imagine Wukong doesn't have the courtnapping instinct bc he's just a stone monkey (made up of pieces of heaven itself + the earth bc...stone), so the times he blushes over Mac are just him imagining cute innocent stuff like wanting to hold Macaque super close and cuddly. Also funnier thing, I was playing with the idea of shape-shifting being gender-limited for most beings/demons and Wukong's ability to shape-shift into women being wukong being an iconic monkey again so your latest update is a very fun surprise ! Yippee!!!

waitwaitwait I got it-

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can they monkeys purr like kittens?? It will be SOO CUTE if they can!!!✨

Maybe???

Anonimo ha chiesto: was Macaque ever more reckless than Wukong ? Maybe in their youth 🤔

Oh definetely

Anonimo ha chiesto: did the Brotherhood in your AU know about Wukong being trans or Macaque courtnapping Wukong? did one of them try to courtnap someone, including our fav monkey boys? 👀👀👀

Yes, the brotherhood knew

@blossomhill36353 ha chiesto: AAAAAAAHHHH THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOOD!!! I love u and your shadowpeach AU with all of my heart u know that!!!!❤️❤️❤️ I have a question tho!! Soo about the glamour thing are they can teach MK how to use one? And since mac has already shown without glamour Infront of MK will Wukong do the same as well??

Yes MK knows the basic of glamours. as for your second question, who knows....

@cutvdo ha chiesto: How oblivious / dense do you think Redson is? like would he notices when MK is blushing?

I'll tell you that, in the last comic, he actually did (the crowd goes in a standing ovation for the idiots of the century)

Anonimo ha chiesto: sooooo a lot of ppl like having Macaque having white hair/fur bc BUT does Wukong have any that he’s ashamed to admit?? 👀👀👀👀

he has but they are only stress related

Anonimo ha chiesto: I like how the shadow tickle courtnapping implies that Macaque could've gained the upper hand during any of their fights in the series, but he chose not to because the feelings associated with it were still raw.

Ah. Ok. Well, thank you but now I gotta stay in the corner and cry after this information

Anonimo ha chiesto: If Wukong and Macaque had been around for school who would the school prefer come if they called home Macaque or Wukong. I feel like Wukong because macaque would be overprotective.

They are the meme where MK got into a fight and they come in a hurry just to ask him if he won

Anonimo ha chiesto: I want someone to call either Macaque and Wukong old, and they get super mad and try to say they aren't old but they are

they are. they are very old.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Has macaque ever had to deal with Wukong having a period?? Does Wukong even have any if he shape-shifts?? Sorry if this feels inappropriate. Anonimo ha chiesto: WAIT, DOES WUKONG BEING TRANS MEAN MACAQUE HAD/HAS TO DEAL WITH HIS PERIODS?!?!.! ANCHHDMSBJFMDBCMDN 😂

Yup, he still has the normal period symptoms and Mac had to stay with him all the time

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who would ask "would you still love me if I was a worm"

Wukong. And he would do it while shapeshifting as a worm

Anonimo ha chiesto: If they where like super angry at someone or something would Wukong & Macaque hiss (not sure what you would call the noise but, full on fangs out.)

I think yeah.

autism-autobot ha chiesto: Are we ever going to see the pilgrims in the shadowpeach bio parents au?

Nope

k4izershasfreakycanon ha chiesto: Hello,so if you dont remember me i was the one who made a custom outfit for mk! i only have the front rendered and coloref so i just wanted to say that you're always allowed to use it in comics! just please credit me:)

Thank you! But I made already his outfit way prior your own post so I already planned to using my original design.

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Reader's parents work late on Friday nights, which she spends alone. Except Reader hasn't been alone in a long time, not that she knows of at least. Rafe has watched you for years, he's very good at it. He has no plans of formally meeting you, as he's satisfied with the current arrangement. He likes it better when Reader doesn't know he's watching. But his idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when reader catches him in her bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the entire plot. He's pretty pervy in this, I guess. Masturbation (Rafe) in front of unconscious reader, strong/vulgar language, somnophilia (I guess?), death threat(?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: My sneak peek got a few likes, so thank you if you liked it, y'all are the reason I'm finally posting this part! I'm not sure how I feel about this fic so far, I definitely have a habit of overly critiquing my own work and never being fully satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get over that. I don't have plans for this fic, it's just going in whatever direction I can think of as I write, so if you have any suggestions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE let me know, I'll write pretty much anything. This is my first work published on tumblr and the first thing I've written in years, so I hope it's at least readable, and maybe even a little enjoyable. If just one person enjoys this, then my mission is accomplished. Thank you, I hope you enjoy! And do NOT be shy to share feedback or give suggestions/requests. Again, thank you!

For those of you that DID read the sneak peek, a large portion of this part was included in the sneak peek, but I highly suggest reading it over in it's entirety. This draft has undergone several additional rounds of editing and I believe it is better than the version I published as a sneak peek.

One thing about humans is that we always want what we can’t have, especially when everyone else wants that same thing. It’s just something all humans do; but what happens when you already have more than you need and everything you could ever want? Well, almost everything. Rafe Cameron has more money than he could spend in his own lifetime, he can practically buy anything he wants. Except one thing, you.

At first he just thought you were pretty, but the more he saw you out in public the more and more he liked you. The way you’d talk or laugh when you were out with your friends…god, he could tell just how sweet you are. Too delicate for him to touch, like the wings of a butterfly or the petals of a flower. This is when he went from wanting you to needing you. 

See, another thing about humans is that we admire things. And, admiration can easily turn into obsession. Everyone has been obsessed with something or someone at some point in life, it’s normal. Obsessions will come and go, like a cycle. You get obsessed with something, you get over it, and you let it go until a new obsession marks the beginning of the new cycle. But things are a bit different for Rafe, he has never gotten over anything like, ever. Not once has Rafe Cameron ever let anything in his life go. When Rafe wants something, when he needs something, he will do whatever it takes to get it. And oh, how he needs you.

Rafe’s fascination, his obsession with you has been going on for years. He won’t ever admit it, but his perfectly curated collection of your personal items in his closet proves just how bad he’s been obsessing over you. The first thing he had ever stolen from you was your drink, you had been at the same party and you left your red solo cup about three-quarters full. Nobody noticed anything when he casually picked up the cup and finished the rest of your beer, purposely lining his lips with where yours had touched the cup, which was perfectly marked by the lipstick you had been wearing. After you’d leave a restaurant, he’d take the straws from your drinks. Rafe eventually worked himself up to breaking into your house and stealing your things when nobody was home. And Rafe made sure to explore every single inch of your room. All of your favorite panties? Gone. He’d take everything, your shirts, bras, whatever he liked really. You had noticed things kept disappearing from your room, but you’d just think you misplaced it–whatever it may be, or left it in a bag somewhere. Rafe had a good system. He knows exactly how much and how often he can take from you. 

Rafe knows he’s sick. He knows that it’s wrong to watch you from outside your bedroom window, that it’s wrong to follow you around in public, to purposely bump into you so you have to mutter a ‘sorry’ as you move around him. He just really, really needs you. And in Rafe’s twisted, dark, mess of a mind he believes this is the best way–the only way. He couldn’t treat you like every other girl, no, you were special. You were his and you just didn’t know it yet. Starting early on in his life, Rafe has always been neglected, always pushed into the shadow of his younger sister, Sarah. He’s been told he ruins everything, that everything he touches turns to ash. And you’re way too perfect to ruin. So, he follows you around like a creep, lurking from a distance. Of course you didn't know he’s been following you everywhere…he liked it better that way.

Rafe knew the line had already been crossed. Hell, the line had been crossed a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t care anymore, he needs you. Heaven is smelling like you; and not because you had left your scent on him, but because he had bought the same perfume as you. He needed to know what you smell like, how sweet you are…and how sweet you taste. Heaven is watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Heaven is you.

What Rafe has been doing to you for years could be defined as worship. Rafe was worshiping you. He’s your good boy; your loyal man and he was going to take care of you; protect you, even if you don’t know it yet. You’re what he lives for; you’re all that keeps him going, the only thing he cares about. 

Since he’s been watching you for years, of course he knew your schedule. Of course he knew that on Fridays your parents work late at the local bar & grill that they own. This means you slept in your house by yourself practically every Friday night. So every Friday night, Rafe would sneak in through the back door that you always forget to lock. He just wants to check on you, he wants to see his pretty girl sleeping beautifully, he wants to know that his baby is okay. This is not a crime, it’s not a crime to care; he’s not insane, he’s just in love–if you could even call it that. How can it be wrong to protect what’s his? nOh, and god forbid anyone ever get in the way of his stalking routine, if anyone were to take you away from the inevitable path of meeting him…oh, the things he would do; whatever it takes.

One unforgettable Friday night, you fall asleep on your couch watching a rerun of one of your favorite shows. You enjoy being alone. If only you knew you haven’t been alone for a very long time. You’re woken up by sudden, loud noises coming from your bedroom, but you think maybe it’s just the cat, or maybe you didn’t shut your window. You get up from the couch and in several slow, cautious steps you tiptoe over to your room. When you enter your doorway, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of a tall and broad man standing in the center of your bedroom holding the last shirt you wore to his nose, breathing in your scent. The sight of all this makes you immediately freeze and stand motionless in your bedroom doorway, staring at him blankly. 

Rafe doesn’t startle when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Instead, quite the opposite actually. He’s actually a bit amused, relieved even; if you hadn’t caught him just now, he never would’ve been able to work up the nerve to finally talk to you. He didn’t want to have to be creepy about things between you two, but he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. It’d be too unpredictable, too unknown. Meeting you like this…he has all of the control. 

“There you are,” he grinned. “How beautiful…” The strangely offputting man gloated in your fear and it was obvious.

You take a step back from where you had been frozen. He takes a step forward. This cannot be happening, you think. Your brows furrow in hopelessness and defeat. Again, you freeze where you are standing, even more afraid to move now. 

You feel like you’ve seen the man before, which you have, plenty of times; but he was careful to never have too big of an interaction, so that you couldn’t recognize his face. You have no clue that you’ve been and always will be his.

 “W-wha…who are you? W-why are you in my house?” You try to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the way your words shake with trepidation betrays you. 

The man takes a quick step forward, slowing to a stop and putting his hands up in mock surrender as you jump back. “Woah, woah, hey…calm down, alright?”, he chuckles when he sees the utter horror and complete fright in your eyes. His tone switches into one of a little more seriousness, “I'm not here to hurt you, you don't need to be so scared...”.  If you didn’t feel like your only choice was to look him in the eyes, you might even believe him. But, you had no other option but to witness the animalistic spark in his eyes that lit up with each word he spoke. With each step he took, you took one further back—your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of his cocky, twisted smile and the way he looked at you…like you’re a zebra grazing in your natural habitat and he’s the lion waiting to pounce and attack you in your own home. 

“I just wanted to see you," he leaned up against your dresser, taking in the look on your face. His face almost instantly drops the predatory look and adopts one of mock concern, almost convincing enough to hide his amusement. “Hey, it's okay, baby, it’s okay…”

“Please,” you beg. “If you leave I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell.”

Rafe cocks his head and lets out a slow breath, as if he’s disappointed in your reaction; you aren’t supposed to want him to leave. “Hey, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me…you don’t wanna have to call the cops at three in the morning,” he elaborated. He’s trying to be as convincing as he can because he cannot screw this up. Even so, he still can’t help his smile that only grows at the sight of your terrified face. He shakes the smirk off, adopting a serious expression once more. “Especially when the cops won't be able to do a damn thing.” 

He continues to step closer to you with each word. He stops once his figure is looming over you, looking at you like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “You should really be more careful, sweetheart, leaving the back door open like that at this time of night, when you’re all alone…you never know who might be out there.” His voice is cold as he warns you about the dangers of the world; the dangers of himself. 

“Who are you?” You repeated. The man looks so familiar but you just couldn’t quite place his face anywhere. You just need to know what he wants; who he is. 

“That’s not important right now baby…we’re focused on you, yeah?” The man’s eyes widen, taking in every detail of your face; the only other times he’s seen you this close is when he watches you sleep. 

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. The look in his eyes tells you to take another step back, but when your back collides with the wall you jump; there’s nowhere left for you to go and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you like this alone, afraid, and cornered. He loved your fear. The man stares at you with a predatory look although aside from the darkness and lust in his eyes, you can see something else, but…what is it?  

“W-what do you want?” You ask, keeping as calm as you can. Even though with every passing second the air gets thinner and thinner. Your stomach is in knots and your throat starts to close up. Not to mention the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Me?” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body as he blew out a huff. “I just wanna have a little chat, that's all...” The unknown man takes another step towards you, invading your personal space, his tall frame towering over you as his bottom lip finds a home between his teeth. Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No need to be so scared, baby...”

“T-talk about what?” You have no idea what this man who you don’t know, could possibly want to talk about with you. Why is he acting like he knows you when you’re sure you’ve never even seen him before? Why is he…admiring you? No, that couldn’t be right. The mystery man is so confusing, all his twists and turns giving you whiplash. 

“Ah, you see...” he responds, pausing to place his other hand on the wall behind you, almost trapping you in. You feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin of your face, burning you like hot steam. His breath was slow and steady. He was completely calm. He liked this. He gave you a genuine smirk, bringing his face closer to your ear. “It’s more of a proposition really…”

“What is it…?” You ask. Not out of curiosity because honestly, you’re too afraid to know. But because you figure things might, just might go better for you if you play along. He stayed silent for a moment—enjoying the look in your eyes and your erratic breathing.

“All this fear…all this trembling...” he trails off as he brings his hand up to your chin, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lower lip. “It's nice to finally meet you...” He chuckles and leans in so that his lips nearly touch your ear. “Will you stop shaking like that if I tell you what I want?” His thumb moves from your bottom lip and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear; he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of your pretty face.“Hmmm?” he challenged. “Or will you still be shaking like a scared little puppy?”

“I-I don’t…” You stutter, not being able to speak or even think clearly with the way he’s glaring at you. 

“Shhhh… ” he tutted, bringing his other hand from the wall to your lower back and drawing you even closer to him—until your body was almost flush against his, his touch surprisingly warm. “You're not answering my question,” he whispers your name as he runs his fingers through your hair, it’s softer than he’d imagined. 

“Please just…” The tears were no longer threatening as they began to fall down your cheeks. “Please…” Hearing this man who you do not know, say your name, was probably the most frightening thing to happen to you yet. 

“Shhh, stop that...” he calmly commanded when he saw the tears falling from your pretty eyes. Rafe's voice was soft but stern—he hated seeing you so distressed. His hand moved from your lower back to your chin, making you look up at him. “Hey it’s okay…it’s okay baby, no need for tears. I just wanna talk to you is all." You almost believe him for a moment with how sincere the glint in his eyes appeared. But you’ve picked up on his manipulative expressions. 

“My parents will be home soon…” You vaguely remember your parents mentioning something about something and blah blah blah…they’re closing early tonight. You really hope it’s true and isn’t just a figment of your imagination; something your mind is making up so you don’t completely give up. 

A cocky smile returned to his face as he let a small huff of amusement slip past his lips. He knew your parents were working late, just like every other Friday night. "Bullshit,” he chuckled. His hand moved back to your lower back, holding you against him. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” He grabs your waist and within the next second, you’re on your bed and he’s hovering over you. You can feel his hot breath in your ear, you can smell him, feel the excessive heat radiating from his body. He speaks quietly now, more serious than he’s been this entire time, “Don’t ever fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”

His words provoke a small whimper from you. How long has he been watching you? What’s he gonna do? What does he want to talk about? Your mind is filled with questions you’re too afraid to ask. “I-I’m not lying.” He leans down, his lips almost touching yours. Rafe’s eyes are looking straight into yours, admiring the complete and utter fear your eyes possess. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But fuck, does he love it.

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles as he presses his face into your hair, taking in your scent. He can’t believe he’s finally this close to you. He didn’t think it’d ever happen, and if you didn’t catch him tonight, it probably wouldn’t have. It’s meant to be, he thinks. “What did I tell you about lying, hm baby? I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’ to me, so you wanna try that again?”

Before your brain could muster up some bullshit response, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe holds his breath and puts his hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he leans to the side to glance down the hallway at the front door. “Shh…”, he whispers. You weren’t lying. Your parents came home from work early and they’re about to turn the doorknob and come inside the house. Rafe looks at you, the look in his eyes beyond unsettling. “Tell the cops…tell anyone, and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you, okay? This is our secret. Don’t make me come back and hurt you babe, I really, really don’t wanna have to do that, alright?” 

He has to be bluffing, right? But, when you look up to meet his gaze, you can tell; you can tell he meant every single syllable that he spoke. It’s not like the cops would believe you if you said you had a stalker anyways, you’re a pogue. And cops never believe a pogue. Rafe doesn’t need a response from you, the fear in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

 Just before you hear the front door open, Rafe smirks at you. “We’re gonna have so much fun together baby.” Reluctantly, the disturbed man leans back and takes his hands away from you. Without another word, he walks over to your bedroom window and pushes it open. Before ducking to climb out, the large man looks back at you. Your breath hitches even further if that’s even possible.

 “Goodnight puppy.” The outline of his smug grin is visible even in the darkness of your room. Just as you hear the quiet voices of your parents enter your house, the dark figure turns and exits your window. When the man is outside you sit up and rush over to shut and lock the window behind him. 

With caution, Rafe watches as your mother comes to peek her head in your bedroom. She only lingers in your doorway long enough to see your dark shape laying in bed. Covered in blankets, you pretend to sleep, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold a casual conversation with your mother at the moment. And the last thing you want to do is raise any alarm. Not while he’s out there–whoever he is. Hot, salty tears fall from your eyes, wetting the soft skin of your cheeks. When she shuts the door, you let out a shaky breath, finally being able to breathe.But, you keep your eyes sealed shut. At least then you can’t see if the man is still watching you from outside your window. You lie awake for hours, how are you meant to go back to sleep after whatever the hell just happened? All you can do now is wait. Is he coming back? When will he come back? Who is he? Why does he want you? There’s a million different questions and worst scenarios circling around in your head. So, you just wait, it’s all you can do. 

As you wait, the hours turn into days, days turning into a week as the next Friday approaches you; you spend your time worrying about having to be home alone again. There still had been no sign of him since your encounter last week, but you decide to stay the night at a friend’s house, not wanting to take the risk. The second Friday after you came face-to-face with your stalker, you get a friend to spend the night with you. And now, after four weeks of waiting there’s still no sign of the deranged man. Although, if you had no knowledge of him stalking you for years he clearly is good at staying hidden. As the fourth Friday approaches, you think over your options. You can go to a friend’s house or have a friend stay over, as you’ve been doing. But, you’re tired of waiting for something to happen. You’re sick of not feeling safe in your own home and of having to look over your shoulder at all times. You used to love being alone, and now it’s been weeks since you’ve spent any time to yourself. You’ve had enough. This Friday you’re not hiding, you’re done being a coward. You will not allow this creep to keep taking away everything you love; you won’t allow yourself to waste any more time worrying about that psycho. So, you stay at home by yourself. He’s not gonna show, right? He was just bluffing or on drugs or something, that’s what you convince yourself.

You pull back the fluffy comforter on your bed and climb in. You pull the covers up and completely over yourself, you used to do this as a little girl when you’d have a nightmare or you’re scared of the thunder or the monster in your closet. If the blanket could protect you when you were little it should work now…right? Well, maybe it’d still work if you had a nightmare, but logically, what is it gonna do against your stalker? But no matter how much you force yourself to believe that he’s not coming back, you still find yourself praying. You’ve never been very religious, but recently you pray to whoever will listen. 

You had bought some sleeping pills from the store a few days after you discovered your secret stalker. They helped you sleep, since your brain hasn’t once stopped thinking about him since the whole fiasco. Reaching over, you pull out the drawer of your nightstand. You grab the bottle of pills, you swallow a couple dry and set the rest on your nightstand. The pills start to kick in quite sooner than usual, must be because you took double the amount…you’re gonna need them to fall asleep tonight. Your first night alone in weeks. In just a few short minutes, you’re out cold, buried underneath an absurd amount of pillows and blankets.

Rafe spent the past few weeks feeling overwrought after what he did. He feels wrong–a feeling he’s not used to experiencing. But it’s because he knows he’s ruined any chance he might’ve had with you. Before you caught him in your bedroom, he had a chance that you could meet him regularly and think he was just a normal guy. But now, all hopes of you ever thinking he’s ‘normal’ have been abandoned. He actually feels shame and…regret for his actions? He’s been seeing less and less of you, and it’s making him angry, so fucking angry. Your schedule has been relatively the same for the past years and now you’re switching it up? You’re hiding from him; running from him just like everyone else in his life. Maybe the things his family has been saying about him for most of his life is true; maybe everything he touches does turn to ash. God, why does he ruin everything? 

You are the one thing, the only thing that Rafe did not want to ruin. You’re the one thing in his life that’s too perfect to ruin…too innocent. But, the damage has been done. He doesn't have many options left. He could leave you alone, but then he’d be weak for not sticking to his word and he can’t have you thinking he’s weak and that you have the power. He could go back, but then what would he do? There was absolutely no way in hell you’d seriously talk to him, and he didn’t want to force himself onto you. He really wanted you to need him back, you have to want it. But everything you do or say now will be out of fear, it’ll be you trying to stay alive. He wanted you to be desperate for him, not desperate to get rid of him. Either way, you’re never gonna forgive him; you’ll always hate him now. Since you’ll feel the same no matter what he does now, he decides that he just needs to see you, he needs to talk to you again. It’s been far too long since he’s been close to you. He can’t take another goddamn second without seeing his reason to live.

He hurries over to your house, parking an entire block away as usual. He makes sure no eyes are on him as he sneaks around to your backyard. Rafe tries peeking through the curtains that block your window to see if you were in bed or not, but he can’t get a good view. He needs to know if you’re home. He needs to see you. 

Rafe sneaks around to the side of your house, checking all windows and doors in the process, but he has no such luck. But he doesn’t give up yet, he’ll get in, he’ll find a way. He tries the side door that leads into your garage. He lets out a giant breath of relief when the door clicks open. Once he’s inside the garage, he takes a quick glance around to analyze his surroundings and burn every inch of your house into his memory. When he finally enters your house, he takes his time to look around. Obviously Rafe knew you were a pogue–he knew everything about you, but you never really looked or acted like one. However, the inside of your home puts your life on display, making it very clear you’re a pogue. 

You sleep soundly, only being interrupted by the occasional dream; completely unaware that your stalker is making his way down the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe opens the door quietly. Your room is dark like the rest of your house, but the moonlight shining through your thin curtains provides just enough light that he can see the outline of your sleeping body. Now that your presence has been confirmed, he feels like he can finally breathe and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

Before he became totally obsessed with you and he’d see you occasionally in public, you used to just make him horny. He’d catch a glimpse of your smile or hear the softness in the way you spoke, or the innocence in your sweet laugh and his dick would be hard within seconds. And when his obsession grew and he’d watch you more frequently, sex with other girls started not doing anything for him. He needed you…he needs you. When he actually started paying attention to the way you spoke, the way you acted, he fell in love–what he thinks is love anyways. Rafe realized you’re the sweetest, most pure person he’s ever known. He didn’t think people like you really existed. His discovery led him to watch you more closely, he started taking more risks just because he needed to find your flaw. There’s no way you’re actually this perfect, it has to be an act. Now, after years of watching you he can confidently say that you really are just that perfect. Rafe needs you for more than just getting off now, he needs your comfort, he needs the kindness that radiates off of you. Which is why he’s always trying to find a way to get closer to you, he needs to absorb your sweetness. But hes really done it now; he’s fucked up big time. You hate him.

He hadn’t realized that the hate he brought upon you would tint the kindness that radiates for your being. He has to get you to let go of the hate he’s caused you, he needs you to be yourself again. He just doesn't know how, if it’s even possible.

 As you sleep soundly, his large frame towers over you as he stares down at you through the darkness. You look so peaceful, so innocent. It physically pains him to know that he’s taken away parts of your innocence. All he can do is stare at you as he mentally curses himself. He can’t wake you up and ruin your small moment of peace. It’s better if you don’t know he’s there. 

Your stalker slowly raises his hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to pull your blanket down to your knees. Even with the blankets pulled down most of your body was hidden from him. Almost everything is left to the imagination in the loose, patterned pj pants and the oversized, long sleeve shirt that you’re wearing. He can only see a small portion of your lower stomach due to your shirt slightly riding up. And that small bit of skin is enough to trigger his memories of you. Because of course he’s seen you countless times; he’s got your body memorized.

He’s practically panting as he takes in the sight of you, imagining that you’re unclothed beneath him; his memory is sharp enough to almost see it. His cock grows to press against his jeans and his eyes trail up to your beautiful face. The ache in his needy cock starts to become unbearable. Your name slips past his lips in the form of a mumble when he starts to palm himself through his newly tightened jeans. 

Okay, Rafe has definitely jerked off to the thought of you, your smell…everything about you makes him lose whatever control he ever even had to begin with. Something he hasn’t gotten to do yet is jerk off with you right in front of him as a live viewing source, fresh for his eyes. He’s gonna be able to cross that off the bucket list soon enough; he can’t wait any longer. His hand stops its ministrations over his jeans as his head turns and he moves over to your closet, grabbing a pair of delicate, worn panties from the top of your laundry hamper. He brings the treasure up to his nose to smell you. God, he could cream his fucking pants right now. He quietly walks back over to you, taking a look at the pill bottle on your nightstand. He picks it up with his free hand, eyes quickly scanning over the label. He smirks as he sets it back down. Rafe turns his head to look back at you. His smirk grows even wider as he leans back, cocking his head as he observes you. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be out for a while.

With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he stands over you. Your panties between his hand and his cock as his fist slowly pumps up and down his length. His other hand meticulously pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.

“Fuckkk…” he whispers under his breath as his bottom lip is held captive between his teeth. Your perfect tits are spilling out of your bra as you lie asleep on your back. He lightly fiddles with the ends of your hair as his hand pumps over his dick repeatedly and without rhythm. He takes his time, Rafe never likes to rush this. Especially not with you.

Your subconscious mind reacts to his light touch and sounds, pulling you into a wet dream; seeing as a main side effect of the medication you took was vivid dreams. You’ve also been unusually horny lately, probably because you’d been too afraid to touch yourself when you thought you were being watched twenty-four/seven. His fingers trail up your stomach and into the valley of your breasts with feather light touch.

You stir a bit, not because you felt him, but because the dream you’ve been thrown into by your subconscious is starting to get your body all worked up. You’ve been extra horny recently and keep having sex dreams since you haven’t been able to touch yourself the past few weeks, having a stalker and all. As he leans down to lightly kiss the skin in between your boobs, a moan slips past his lips, vibrating off of your skin and interrupting the mostly silent room. The only other sound that can be heard in the quiet room is that caused by Rafe’s hand quickly moving up and down his cock; the friction caused by the soft fabric of your panties generates a quiet noise. Pre-cum leaks from his slit and seeps into the fabric of your recently worn panties. He leans back down to create a hickey on your chest and hopes that you won’t wake up from the sudden feeling, although if you did that might be even better. Shaking the selfish thought out of his head, he sucks strongly at the smooth skin between your beautiful tits. He pulls his mouth off with a pop! Leaning back to see the mark he left, he smirks knowing you’ll see it too eventually. The already rhythmless movements of his hand gets even more erratic the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm. 

The man standing above you runs his hand back down your chest and abdomen as you sleep. Completely unaware of what's happening to your physical body right now, you begin to get all wrapped up in your dream. You only ever get sex dreams when you’re so overly horny, which you’ve been the past few weeks. That combined with the sleeping medication you took, made this particular dream feel different; it felt so…real. The only dream-like part about it was that you couldn’t see the man's face for whatever reason. 

While you’re in a deep sleep, you involuntarily let out a needy whine as your active mind plays games with you. When Rafe hears you he thinks he imagined it, until he hears you do it again. He wonders if you could feel him, except he’s not even touching you right now. Realizing that's clearly not the reason, he furrows his brows in confusion. He pulls the duvet cover completely off of you to reveal the way you keep periodically squirming as your body searches for the same feeling your mind is experiencing; and the way your toes tighten up and curl as you’re tricked into thinking you feel pleasure. 

He can’t take it, not when you look like this. The man hovering over your unconscious figure lets out a lewd moan that corrupts the silence as hot strings of his cum spurt out of the pink, glistening tip of his cock and onto the pair of your panties that he's got clenched in his fist, immediately soaking into the fabric. Surprisingly, when he gets through his orgasm, he adoringly covers you back up with your blankets and leaves your house, locking the door he entered through to be sure you were safe. He got enough to satisfy him for now as he works on a plan to change the way you think of him.  He’ll be back for more of you soon enough. He has to fix this; the biggest mistake he’s ever made and the only regret he’ll ever carry. 

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable and not a waste of time. I spent a lot of time on this part, especially with the editing since I never really feel done with anything. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them, there's not much I won't write!

[disgruntledexplainer]

@jeppiner sent me a resource that may be useful for anyone else in my friend's position (thank you. the police aren't doing anything because she couldn't "give them proof", so this is the best i'm getting I guess, especially since APPARENTLY TASERS AND PEPPER SPRAY ARE BANNED IN CANADA FOR SOME REASON). I figured I'd share it for anyone who can make use of it.

I'm not sure that what happened was a case of attempted human trafficking, but it seems close enough to maybe help in this situation.

additionally, my sisters have this thing. it makes a loud noise when you trigger it to get people's attention and maybe get some help. it also looks like a little cat.

again, prayers would be appreciated.

please pray for a friend of mine. she's alone in canada (she recently emigrated from colombia) and a dude recently tried to blackmail he into sex using her ID card, which she had lost on holloween. she got it back and gave him the slip, thankfully. i told her to report it to the police, so hopefully something is done, but I am deeply concerned.

[asgardian--angels]

I don't talk about this much but I'm just going to say it now.

there's something uniquely vile about being the daughter of a father who is a trump supporter. and not just a casual supporter, a full drank-the-kool-aid moon-landing-was-fake deep red neonazi maga crackpot. because I had to watch that change happen over the last decade. my father, an intelligent, introspective scientist, whose brain has essentially turned to mush and critical thinking skills shriveled up and died thanks to that orange rapist.

He has always loved me, supported me to be whatever I want to be, given me the most opportunities he could in life. He taught me to be kind, and forgiving, and to remember that we are all in this together. And now, while still claiming to feel that way, he vehemently, and viciously, spews hateful rhetoric and vitriol against women, against climate change, against democrats, against all the things I am, against the field of study I've dedicated my life, my soul to. We can no longer even have a regular conversation because all he does all day is sit online and watch trump rallies, listen to 'patriot' podcasts, and troll people on forums. He has nothing else to talk about, and cannot be negotiated with. Him and I used to love having sparring matches of wit, picking topics to debate in good faith. Now, any hint of a challenge and he becomes enraged, petty, and belittling. He somehow maintains this hypocritic fallacy in his mind that he is a good person, that he does everything to make my life better, and that humankind must come together to make a better future. Just, not *those* people, I guess, not them or them or them who aren't even people to him.

And I must occupy some gray area in his mind, Schrodinger's political prisoner. Because even though he knows I am a democrat, that I am a woman who will be affected by these laws, that I study climate change in the work that he supposedly supports, I must not be to him, one of 'those' people. I'm not like 'those' democrats, 'those' women, 'those' climate change cronies. Except when I am, because if we argue, if we discuss policy at all, I am just a girl, under his roof, and I have no idea what I'm talking about - because I'm young, because women aren't capable of understanding His greatness, because Elite Academia has brainwashed me into being a liberal. That my mom and I are ganging up on him, constantly, to paint him as the villain when he's only the victim. He's going to elect the man who will save us all, whether we want it or not. Our say doesn't matter, because we just don't understand.

I miss the father I knew. He was always petty, always ready to poke and prod - he hurt my feelings plenty, but I could deal with it. But I felt he was genuinely good at his core, that he tried his best. Now, I don't know him. I don't recognize him anymore. I've imagined so many times what I would say to him if I could give a speech, or write a letter, where he could not talk back and just had to listen. I don't know if I'll ever get that chance, or take it. But I know he has truly no idea how hurt and betrayed I am, and he wouldn't believe me if I told him. He knows no shame, and he does not apologize.

I'm not looking forward to spending the winter at home with him every day for two months. I don't see how I can look him in the eye. And how dare he look me in the eye after fucking me over.

I love my father, no matter what, and that's why it hurts me so badly to see him change into a stranger, and wonder if there was anything more I could have done to change his mind before this transformation completed. Knowing that it's not my responsibility to argue with him to try and make him see reason when he's too far gone and all it does is make me feel like shit, and yet.

I'm sorry to everyone who may relate to this within their own families. It's probably going to get worse. These men will feel empowered to speak their minds and force you to hear it. They try to provoke you, just so they can say you're hysterical or overreact as women do, when you get reasonably upset. Know that you're not alone in this, Trump has truly torn families apart in ways that I don't think will ever heal.

[cartoon-buffoon]

Okay because I came up with a (in my humble opinion) the FIRE ship name of "Starbuck" which is Monster Frankie X the contestant, I wanna explain why this ship is so good because y'all fr sleeping on it. Unlike Rabbit royale which I've been seeing as portrayed as a toxic yoai situation where neither parties are good for each other, Starbuck is DOOMED yoai and it makes it SOOOO GOOD, now lemme set the scene real quick:

Monster Frankie has been acclimated to being the star of the show. No contestant has ever survived more than a few MINUTES. He's a sadistic killer who fucking GIGGLES when he kills someone, there's nothing the bastard loves more than crushing people and having all the audience watch him do it. A new season starts and the plan changes a bit, he has orders to NOT kill the contestant and this is what bothers him. He's mad, after all this is HIS gameshow, he is Frankie, the star, the one everyone comes to watch kill, and suddenly he's not supposed to do that? I mean, he does ATTEMPT to listen but ultimately he argues with Real Frankie about it because he's pissed, he doesn't want this nobody to survive until Hexa-Havoc, he wants them fucking DEAD! He goes out of his way to kill the contestant yet he's stopped by Real Frankie and this ultimately leads to the final confrontation. When he sees Real Frankie try to help the contestant out he's enraged and grabs him by the springy wrist and effectively tells that smiley bastard to fuck off and he's done, the plan is over, they made it to Hexa Havoc meaning what happens now is FAIR GAME!

And it was a fair game, but THAT'S THE ISSUE! In a fair fight with the platforms disappearing and them giving chase they somehow lose. For the first time in 50-something seasons they actually LOSE, this random nobody comes in and beats them and they get sent into an incinerator. Not only that, but after he comes back to life with his consciousness going into a spare suit they had he finds that same fucker who beat him as a contestant in the NEXT season.

And this is where it starts

Season after season Monster Frankie chases with the contestant running and ultimately beating him each and every time. Obstacles change, renovations are made to the parkour palace, seasons tick by. But never once does Monster Frankie figure out how to beat this masked weirdo who just showed up and asserted themselves as this reoccurring guest. His fame, his fun, EVERYTHING that he had built up as a cruel and relentless killer who the audience bets on to murder is flipped upside down. It's this loss after loss that makes Monster Frankie stop thinking the contestant is some lucky little fuck, he begins to realize what he's losing to is SKILL!

THAT'S WHERE IT BLOOMS! There's this unspoken rivalry that starts between them. Monster Frankie will continue to hunt and the contestant will continue to run, the contestant has this constant thrill of being near death thanks to this giant toothy rabbit and Monster Frankie has this little thorn in his side who continues to best him. He's intrigued, mad, but ultimately he can't help but feel a sort of attraction to this. And maybe it ain't one sided? After all the thrill of getting chased is what keeps the contestant coming back after each season and no one else gives them such a rush expect for Monster Frankie. Even if they don't talk much (at least they don't on camera, what happens off screen is left up to anyone's imagination ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭ ) they still fall for each other and find themselves constantly trying to beat the other in this constant hunt.

All good things must come to an end though. As one would guess watching the same person get chased by the same monster may become boring to the audience. You can only change up the obstacles so much before it STILL becomes boring to the watchers. Now's the tragic part: the show has to change. It HAS to, the ratings are starting to drop and then higher ups are demanding things to be shaken up leading both to make a choice. If Monster Frankie and his continuous failures has bored the audience which is gonna force the higher ups to scrap him, they're gonna get rid of him and instead have something else replace him, idk maybe some NEW mascot and he'll be left forgotten and in the incinerator instead of getting a new body. On the other hand the contestant could die, the reigning champ could be dethroned leading to a new champ to possibly rise leading to a new fan favorite the audience can cheer for.

Whatever the case then end is near for the two. One of them is doomed no matter what, one HAS to perish and it's beyond devastating. This rivalry that blossomed into love, what started off as hate that became fondness and possibly even affection is torn away by the same gameshow that brought them both together. It's this tragedy that makes this ship SOOOO FUCKING GOOD! AHHH! I FUCKING LOVE THIS, YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA!

[written-in-flowers]

Die With a Smile: Chan x Male!Reader

Pairing: Chan x Male!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Genre: Smut, fluff | AU: idolverse, ninth member au

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: An unpleasant encounter becomes a show of affection and a near confession from Chan. Have two finally become one? / 'I'd wanna hold you just for a while, and die with a smile. If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you' "Die With a Smile" by Bruno Mars, Lady Gaga

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.

Tags: polyamory, polycule, homophobia, mentions of homophobia, chan being the protective leader he is, peek at angry chan, anal fingering, anal sex, rimming, 69-position, shower foreplay, shower stuff, dom/sub undertones, pet names (baby, good boy), creampie, multiple sex rounds, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum eating, spanking.

Tags: @james-is-here @onementally-unstabel-kid @omg-lexiloveyou @drinkingrumandcocacola @disverseinterests @oreoqueen @succubus-hansol @belladonna6-6-6-6-6 @channiesbum

Here's What You Missed on Newbie!

****

A day with Chan. You couldn’t believe your luck. You loved hanging out with all the members, but the leader carried a special place in your heart. The both of you talked about everything and anything. You found yourself telling him things you never dared to tell anyone else; he did the same in return. In an industry where you had to wear masks, it felt nice having someone to be fully honest with. You could be who you truly are with him, and never worried about what happened afterwards. You always made up excuses to be around him: pretending you’d asked someone else to hang but they’d been busy; that you wanted to show him a melody you’d worked on or look over lyrics for his opinion; that you simply wished for his company over anyone in the world. 

Yet, the most frustrating thing lately has been his hesitation. While everyone else jumped on you the moment they could, Chan kept a tight hold on himself. No matter how many times you made it clear you wanted him, he promised ‘later, YNie’. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of him late at night, when you tossed and turned in bed and sleep evaded you. You pictured his strong, hard body on top of yours, hips spreading your thighs as he kissed you. Even though you had hot, kinky sex with the other members, you wanted Chan to be special. You knew he’d make it passionate and gentle. You knew you’d spend ages exploring his body, kissing the most sensitive spots and caressing his lean muscles. He’d do the same to you, holding you so close your bodies stayed melted together. 

You wished he’d at least kiss you. 

“-So, I told him we could work on it tomorrow,” he told you as he finished his last set. “Changbin always shows me stuff late at night when neither of us can sleep. He says he gets inspired at night.”

“I know how he feels,” you said, taking his place on the bench. “I started working on this ballad the other night that I’ve been meaning to show you.”

“A ballad?” he asked, spotting you by holding the bar with two fingers. 

“Yeah, I guess I was in a sentimental mood last night and it inspired me.” You wouldn’t say that you’d been looking at pictures of you both on a walk around the city. “I can show it to you later. I really want to see what you think.”

He helped you with the bar a few times. You’d gotten better at working out since you became Changbin’s gym buddy. Stays liked the muscles you’d developed, and, yes, you hoped Chan might notice you. When you ended your set, you thought of going to work on your legs when Chan got up close to you. No product in his hair, his natural curls were pushed back from his face with a cap so they stuck out the back. Without makeup, you got to see the bare beauty up close. You admired the shape of his full lips, the size of his nose and how his eyes sparkled like they carried galaxies in them. You saw his unblemished skin, and sharp jawline. How could one person carry all the beauty in the world in them? 

“Hey,” he said, almost low enough that it stayed between both of you, “I was wondering if, um, you know…” he pursed his lips and looked away shyly, “If you wanted to, maybe, if you wanted and it’s totally okay if you don’t…”

“Hyung?” Was it happening? 

“If you wanted to go out with me tonight, maybe?” he asked with a grimace, afraid of what you might say. “Not as friends?”

“Like, a real date?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “If you don’t want to, it’s cool. We can stay friends. I just thought…you know, we’ve been hanging out a lot since you joined our group and I really like being around you, so I thought you might want to go on a real date with me? Like I said-”

“-Yes,” you cut him off, unable to stop your hammering heart. “I’d really like that.”

“You would?” he said, surprised and hopeful. 

“Yeah,” you laughed, nodding. “I thought I was going to have to ask you, since I’ve sort of been waiting for you.”

He laughed embarrassed, “Oh, wow. I guess all the flirting and teasing should’ve been a giveaway, huh?”

“It was a bit of one, but,” you added quickly, “We don’t have to do that. I don’t expect it when we are alone together. I like being with you outside of, you know, sex stuff.”

“But, you do want to, right?”

“Channie-hyung,” you said, “Look at you. Of course, I do.”

“Good to know,” he smirked, bringing you even closer. “Changbin told me you guys did it here the other day.”

“It’s not my fault he can’t keep his hands to himself,” you defended with a smile. You too thought about Changbin’s strong hands on your hips as he bent you over the bench press last week. “It’d been quick, but so good.”

“As hot as that sounds you really shouldn’t do that here,” he cautioned. “Someone could have seen you guys.”

“That’s the point of public sex, hyung.”

“I mean, someone could film it and out you two. While I do like thinking of you getting slammed by Changbin,” he said, fixing the strap of your tank top, “Just be more careful where you do it, okay?”

“Of course, hyung.” 

He gave your chin a small pinch before pulling away. “I’ll go get my stuff from the locker room and we can go.” 

“Sure,” you said, watching him leave for the locker room doors. 

The moment the door closed, you jumped for joy. Faint squeals made it past your gritted teeth and butterflies soared in your stomach. A real date with Chan? It couldn’t be really happening. You didn’t care if nothing happened afterwards; just going out on an actual date with him got you one step closer to his heart. You picked up your stuff with shaky hands. You tried controlling the bubbling nerves, but visions of your date kept coming at you. Yet, this light was snuffed out when a voice came from behind you. 

“So, the company hasn’t gotten rid of you yet, Park?” 

Kim Beomgyu stood between the machines with two men on either side. You recognized them as Hyungshik and Daniel. Beomgyu looked just as large and intimidating as the last time you’d seen him. Standing a few inches taller than you, he’d spent ages developing his buff body. Fans of theirs called him the muscle pig, since he worked out and ate so much. Every butterfly in your stomach died seeing him so close. Your palms became sweaty, and you suddenly want to run. Remembering your last encounter, you didn’t want to go through it a second time. 

“No,” you said, trying to keep up a face of courage. “You see that I’m here, right?” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t leave on your own,” he said, coming closer to you. “I thought the ass kicking I gave you made it clear: Nobody wants you here.” He gave you a light shove, and your heart dropped into your stomach. 

“I don’t know if you noticed, hyung,” you said, putting spite into your voice, “But they put me in one of the most popular kpop groups in the world. When was the last time Zero won anything? Oh, that’s right. You haven’t because your music is shit and your dancing is awful.”

The three of them laughed, “That’s the best you can do? So what if you’re a Stray Kid? I can still beat your ass,” he shoved you again. “This is a No-Fairy Zone. You better go before I enforce it.”

“They seem to have an open door policy on assholes, though.”

Chan appeared from behind you, immediately getting between you and Beomgyu. You saw the tongue-in-cheek sign of anger Chan exhibited sometimes. His body became tense, and he stared right at Beomgyu. 

‘Oh, you poor dumb bastard…’ 

“You’re actually defending this fairy, Bahng?” Beomgyu asked in disbelief. “What? Are you his boyfriend or something?”

“He’s one of my members. I take care of my members, unlike you.” He stepped up to him, “I suggest you and your lapdogs go to the other side of the gym and pretend you never saw us.”

“Or what? You’ll sprinkle your fairy dust on me?”

“No, your nose will start bleeding.”

“What?”

“Because that’s where my fist is going to land if you keep insulting YN. You made your point: you’re a self-hating gay man who can’t confront his sexuality. We get it. You're attracted to YN and you can't help it so you get angry. Denial is natural in the beginning stages.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beomgyu said, though not as confident as before. 

“I saw how you kept looking at YN when we were at MAMA,” he said. “You were practically undressing him with your eyes. Is that why you beat him up the first time? Did you get so upset over it that you took it out on him?” He got in Beomgyu’s face, “Did he get you so hard you almost hated him for it?”  

“You’re a liar. I ain’t no fucking f-”

“-Sure, keep telling yourself that. You might believe it one day. YN-yah, let’s go. Now.”

You snatched up your phone and quickly followed Chan out of the gym. Neither of you spoke on your way to the parking lot. Chan’s anger seemed to vibrate through him and kept you away. He even ticked his head to one side like he did when he disapproved or was angry about something. You saw his knuckles whiten around the handle of his duffle bag. Every Stray Kid member knew not to talk to him when he was upset. Once in the car, you kept quiet as Chan made to start the car. But, then he didn’t. 

“Don’t tell the members what happened,” he said, voice still steely. “Changbin-ah would go after him if he knew, and Minho-yah would be right behind him. I don’t want a bad light put on us.”

“You said you would hit him…”

“If I had to, but I would’ve preferred not to do that. Beomgyu’s a bitch and he would’ve cried to the company if I’d hit him.” He looked over at you, “Don’t tell them, okay? Promise me you won’t.”

“I won’t.”

“Not even Hyunjin or Felix. Nobody.”

“Nobody,” you nodded. 

He started the car and began driving. You didn't utter a word to him the entire ride. His anger kept an invisible barrier between the two of you. You knew his anger remained directed at Beomgyu, but the air felt too tense to speak. 

He brought you to his dorm instead of yours. You guessed Changbin and Jisung weren't home when you walked in to find a quiet apartment. Chan walked over to their open floor kitchen, grabbing a beer and popping it open. You stared at him for a moment, unable to focus on anything but him. 

You couldn’t recall someone defending you before. The Zero members sort of kept away whenever Beomgyu started going at you. Friends of yours didn’t know how to react when it happened, and your parents would rather let it happen than risk a scandal. You thought you might cry, remembering how he’d immediately shielded you from Beomgyu and threatened to hurt him if he kept going. 

“Nobody’s ever done that for me,” you said quietly. “Not once.”

“I’ll do it as many times as I need to,” he said, taking another gulp of his drink. “I care about you, YNie.”

“You do?” You came up to him, your body aching to be closer. Beomgyu’s taunting eyes and hurtful words stuck themselves in your head. You saw his lean arms and wanted to be in them. Only there did you feel truly safe. “Really?” 

“Of course,” he said, surprised by your question. 

You stopped inches away from him. “Is that why you were so touchy with me at MAMA this year?’ you asked, thinking about your first major performance with Stray Kids. “You knew he was watching me?” 

You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But, now that you did, Chan had been a bit more flirty and affectionate than normal. Your skin still prickled remembering his hands on the exposed parts of your outfit, the flirty comments he made in your ear and how cute he acted towards you. A part of you thought he’d done it to distract you from your old group, but now you realize it was to keep Beomgyu away…or make him jealous. Even Changbin said he was pushing the boundaries. Chan gave a small smirk at your question. 

“At first, I thought he wanted to get you alone so he could bully you,” he admitted, “But then he kept checking you out. We were in the waiting area with everyone else, and I noticed he was looking in your direction a lot. I’ve seen enough leering to know when someone wants to fuck,” he chuckled. “Then, his aggression towards you suddenly made sense to me. He’s gay too, and just doesn’t want to admit it to himself. Having someone around who he knew was gay I guess sort of sparked this self-loathing. He took it out on you because you make him feel stuff he thinks he isn’t allowed to feel.” He put down his drink and cupped your cheek. “But, it works out for me.”

“How?”

“Less competition.” 

For months, you’d pictured Chan passionately kissing you, whether during sex or not. His lips, warm and soft, felt better than any pair you’d kissed before. Your heart blossomed and every ounce of yearning came out in your kiss. He kept you in place by the cheek and the back of your neck, and your hand naturally fell on his chest. You wanted him to know how you felt without words. Words meant nothing, but kisses meant everything. You moved closer for him to deepen the kiss, wet tongues touching one another as he groaned softly in your mouth. Even when you broke apart, you both shared soft, brief kisses before diving back in for another deep, passionate one. 

“Perfect,” he breathed when you broke apart, “Better than I imagined.” 

“So much better,” you agreed, kissing him again. 

Lips finding yours again, his hands slid your shirt up over your head. You returned the favor, slipping underneath the muscle shirt and peeling it off his toned body. Since joining, you’d seen Chan shirtless a fair share of times but not this close. You saw every definition, unable to stop yourself from tracing them up to his chest before removing his shirt completely. His hands went around your waist to your back, not moving down but instead up to the backs of your shoulders. This forced you closer to him, your body pressing up against his like it was made to be. He was intoxicating. This sudden freedom to touch him left you eager to feel every part your hands could reach. For once in your life, you became one with another person. This did not have the shallow, lustful hunger you experienced so often. Something deeper hid behind the veil and slowly made its way up your stomach. Reaching up into his soft, dark curls, you gave them a light tug to keep him steady as you tilted your head to one side. 

He guided you through the apartment to their bathroom, excitement building up in your gut. Once inside, he pressed you to the counter and continued kissing you. Every vein in your body pumped blood straight to your center, where Chan’s thigh brushed into you. The gentle touch impacted you, but not as it usually did. Only made you want more of him. One hand kept you balanced, while the other roamed your body. Besides your nipples, his thumb rolled around the dip of your hips close to the v-line; the fingers tenderly caressed your stomach and the sternum of your chest to your neck again. Hand wrapped around your throat, he didn’t squeeze. He simply held you like that as his other hand worked on removing the rest of your clothes. Chan groaned when you started doing the same back. You hadn’t seen his dick since that first night, and you wanted to see it again. 

Chan only broke away from you to turn on the shower, and your eyes raked over his nude body. They focused on the semi-hard cock between his thighs. The others had been right: you’re both roughly the same size. You couldn’t wait to have it in you. The water deemed good enough, Chan and you giggled as he brought you back into his arms underneath the shower head. Things became more slippery when the body wash came out. The sliding of his skin and hands on you sent more blood to your core. You grew more excited when he pressed your back to his chest, and worked his way past your hips. 

“Chan-”

“-We have to make sure you’re clean everywhere, baby.” 

A faint whine escaped you when both his hands reached your hardening length. He didn’t touch it right away. Chan focused on the areas around it. He crouched to lay gentle kisses on your ass cheeks while he rubbed the citrus lather on your thighs and legs. You shivered, and weakened when his ass grabbed both buttocks tenderly. 

“When was the last time anyone touched this, hm?” he asked, kissing up your back and sucking the fleshier part of your neck. 

“Changbin.”

“And now I get to. Oh, oops,” he said coyly when his hand slipped between your cheeks briefly. “Sorry, YNie,” three fingers rubbed against your ass hole and you leaned forward as it weakened you, “I didn’t mean to. The soap is so slippery,” he rolled his fingers in circles, “And your ass is so round and full. It just happened.” 

His hand went further down to where your ass and balls met. You spread your legs out of habit to give him more access. “I only want to be thorough with you,” he said as he kissed along your shoulders, sucking and nibbling them occasionally. 

“You’re so good to me, hyung,” you whimpered as he rolled your balls in his hand. “You always take such good care of me.”

“Of course I do,” he replied, letting go of them to bring you back in his arms. Your cock sticking straight out, it became sensitive to his touch. “You mean so much to me.” He paused at your shoulder, lips pressed to the crook of your neck. You sensed the words in the silence, “Is it crazy to say I felt that way before we even met?”

“What?” The butterflies in your stomach suddenly went wild. 

“I followed you on Instagram and Tiktok before you joined, and, um, I kind of…”

“Yeah?”

“I planned on telling you this later,” he said, forehead on your shoulder and hands nowhere near your dick, “You know, when we’re not naked and hard in the shower but, um, you know, I really like you…Like a lot more than band members or friends…”

“Me too.” 

Nothing else was said. A soapy hand started gliding up and down your shaft slowly, giving gentle squeezes to the tip between his fingers. “My sweet boy,” he continued, kissing your neck, “You’re my sweet boy. Aren’t you?”  

“Yes, I am,” you grinned, giggling softly when he kept kissing close to your ear. 

“You’ll be good for your leader?”

“Yes, Leader-nim.”

“That’s my boy.” 

He turned your head to deeply kiss you. You moaned into his lips as he pumped only your tip, squeezing and rolling around it until you squirmed in his arms. Grabbing his other hand, you put it to your throat again and he knew what you wanted. He kept you in place by your neck as he played with the head of your dick. 

“I’m not going to do anything particularly kinky, but if I do something you don’t like,” he said, “Just say ‘cherry’ and I’ll stop, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded as best you could. 

“What’s our safe word?”

“Cherry.”

“Good boy.” 

Then, it was your turn to wash him. Turning around in his arms, you instantly felt his dick poke yours. He gave a low hum when they brushed lightly over, and he brought you closer. You felt down the broad shoulders and vascular arms, tracing the natural veins that sometimes came out, before reaching his waistline. Chan’s breathing grew heavier when you passed over his stomach and chest again. His eyes stayed on your lips, eager to kiss them before he brought you to him by the back of your neck. You grew hard simply touching him. The both of you stood there under the water, fondling and exploring one another as you should. It felt natural. No rush to the bed. No hurry to get anywhere. You felt content simply touching and kissing. Even as your arousal grew, you did not want to end it so quickly. 

“I should've done this sooner,” he said between kisses as you towel dried one another. “I've clearly been missing out on your cure-all ass.”

“My cure-all ass?” you laughed in disbelief. “Which of them said this?” 

“Changbin,” he chuckled, kissing you. “He swears your ass makes his problems go away.”

Both of you laughed, “Hyunjin says my dick is ‘life-changing’. I don't know where it comes from. It's…alright.”

“I don't know,” he reached down between you and grabbed your erection, “I'm looking at it now and seeing a whole new perspective on life.”

You held back your laughter until it spilled over. “Maybe you should try it for yourself sometime,” you said, stroking him back, “I’m always down to help my leader better himself.”

“Another time,” he replied, dropping the towel and leading you out of the bathroom. “I’ve been looking at this all day,” he squeezed your ass until you squeaked and giggled, “And I can’t wait anymore.” 

“I can’t either.” 

He gave you several kisses on the way to his bedroom. On his bed, you barely took in anything else around you. Chan suddenly became your entire world, and you didn’t want to leave just yet. He laid on top of you, gently spreading your thighs as he kissed you again. Fresh from your shower, you took in the pine-scented body wash and the smoothness of his skin. His muscles were in a more relaxed state, becoming softer against your fingers.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said as he peppered kisses across your jawline. “So, so beautiful.”

“You too,” you breathed, wrapping yourself around him to keep him close. “Just when I think I've gotten used to it, you come around the corner and blow me away again.” The confession poured from you, eyes closing to savor his lips moving further down your body. “You make me feel safe…I don’t worry about things because I know you’re there to take care of me. I feel better after I’ve been around you…I’ve wanted this since we first met. I’ve wanted you, Channie. Please…” you breathed the last word, your hands sliding into his dark curls as he reached your hardon, “Don’t make me wait anymore. Please…”

“I won’t, baby,” he promised, kissing down your length to your balls. “We’re both going to get,” he moved to your inner thighs and lifted them by the knees, “Exactly what we want.” He reached up to one knee, massaging the backs of them, and said, “You’ve become such a special person to me. I’ll always take care of you…” He kissed back down to your center, “In any way I can.”

You twitched when his mouth encompassed the tip. Still holding onto your knees, he sunk his mouth inch by inch onto your dick. You looked down to see his shoulder and back muscles flexing in this position, the veins in his arms more noticeable in the slight strain to be propped upwards. It resembled every fantasy you’ve ever had about him. Your entire body electrified each time he reached the base and softly hummed around you. His full lips sucked you lightly, and you felt his tongue sliding against the veins of your dick. When you saw his hips grinding into the bed, the request slipped from your lips.

“Let me suck you too.” 

Chan didn’t question it. He laid back on the bed and let you position yourself on top of him. Every urge inside you screamed to fuck his mouth, but you refused to ruin the moment with hastiness. Grabbing onto one another, you both continued. A bit thicker than some of the others, you took a moment to adjust to his size. The combination of finally having him filling your mouth and you filling his created muffled whimpering. Neither of you took the other one out completely. You didn’t want the sensation to end. Chan only elevated it when his hands grasped your ass cheeks. You squirmed on top of you when you felt him begin tenderly squeezing them, thumbs grazing the hole. When you felt him begin guiding you on his face, you carefully started sliding in and out of his mouth on your own. You let him do the same, staying completely still for his dick to penetrate your mouth. Still not rough or quick, he sucked harder when you withdrew and only licked the tip when you hung it over him and sunk back inside. You groaned at the dick stuffing your face. The taste of him dragged across your tongue, turning into a salty drool that you slurped and licked up whenever he pulled out.

Two fingers rolled around your ass hole again, and Chan let out a muffled chuckle when you trembled. “Sit on my face, baby,” he said between breaths, “Let me tongue fuck you.”

With a bit of maneuvering, you planted your bottom right on his face as requested. You didn’t regret it at all. Chan kept them open, he swiped his tongue over and around you as it tickled your insides. You continued stroking the wet cock in front of you, occasionally bending down to lick up the beads of precum. He was incredibly hard. Hard enough that it stood on its own when you let go and only used your mouth. Chan didn’t stop you from grinding into his face; he actually encouraged it once his tongue snaked inside. When you managed to stay still, he wriggled and whirled his tongue between your clenched walls and shoved as deep as he could. Not enough to make you cum right away, but it was enough to stroke him faster and harder.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned when he removed his tongue to give teasing licks, “Fuck, baby, like that. Jerk me off like that.”

Chan’s hips bucked upwards and his muscles tensed as you squeezed and jerked him. Even if your arm burned, you kept the pace just for him. His dick pulsated and throbbed in your hand, and you knew he was close by the curling toes and the grip of your ass. Then, you stopped which made him grunt inside you.

“Please, don’t cum yet,” you said in your smallest, sweetest voice. “I want cum with you.”

“I can hold it,” he assured you, “Don’t you worry about that. Keep sucking my dick,” he ordered, “I want to fuck your pretty throat just like you’ve wanted.”

Holding the back of your neck with one hand, Chan kept you in place and started thrusting his hips upwards. You never felt such satisfaction before. You kept your mouth wide open so he heard the gagging sounds and felt your drool dripping down his length. Streams of curses mixed with your name as he let go of his restraint. He said everything you’d always pictured him saying.

“Such a good boy…taking your leader’s cock so well and letting him use you like this…Fuck, YN…”

“I only want to make you happy, Leader-nim,” you breathed when he pulled out, taking hold of him to tap him on your face and lips. “You do so much for us and you're so good to me. I want to make you feel good.” 

“Oh?”

You yelped and giggled when he rolled you over, this time being on top. Settling himself over you facing forward, Chan dug into your mouth at a new angle. You held onto his thighs, nails softly digging into the firm muscles as he started rocking back and forth. He never took his eyes off you, almost as if entranced by the sight of your lips firmly sucking his cock. Chan barely let you breathe. He’d withdraw, smear more precum and spit over your lips as you panted, then plunged right back in. You whined when he finally pulled away from you.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he bent to lightly kiss you, “You’re getting something better. Just stay still for me, alright?”

He grinned when you nodded, pecking your cheek and reaching over to the headboard behind him. Hidden behind pillows was a bottle of lubricant, which he popped open and spread a generous amount on his length. Chan stroked himself over you, admiring your naked body and hard cock for a moment before pressing to your entrance. You held your legs up by the knees to expose yourself, giving your body over to him completely.

“I’ll start off slow,” he said in a shaky breath as he rolled himself around you, “And you tell me when you want me to go faster. Okay?”

“Okay.”

The both of you laughed and shared another kiss, regardless of where your mouths had been. He took advantage of the moment and pushed the tip gently into you. Chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, your grip tightened under your knees as a second inch went inside. You finally felt the full girth of him, a slight burning coming with each thrust, but it felt good. Your cock throbbed between your legs, precum leaking onto your stomach and you reached down to touch yourself. Chan didn’t stop you. He was too focused on what was going on between you. You whined between pursed lips, eyes pleading with him to finally fill you, and stroked yourself slowly. When he finally reached the base, you saw the restraint in him threatening to break. Being full of him, his tip easily pushed to your g-spot and you thought you might cum right then. A flood of pleasure burst open once your body understood what was happening.

“Keep touching yourself for me,” he said in your ear, rocking languidly into you. He hardly pulled out, only going an inch or two, “I love watching you do it.”

“Then I’ll-I’ll do it for you whenever you want,” you promised, head tilting back when he went particularly deep.

Chan kept the same gradual speed while you attempted to keep in time with it. When he knelt up, eyes still focused on your body, you couldn’t help admiring him back. A faint pink tinge going from cheeks to neck, messy curls hanging over his face, and swollen lips parted in his moans, you wanted to capture the moment forever. The image alone had you jerking a bit faster, squeezing your head until strings of precum came out.

"Go faster,” you finally whimpered after a time. “Please, Leader-nim.”

“Like this?” He started at a medium, shallow pace.

“Mm, faster. Fucking pound my ass, please. Please, I want it-Oh god!”

Pulling you closer by your knees, legs to his shoulders, Chan finally gave you what you both wanted. His bed lightly tapping the wall behind him, both your moans and groans mixed together in the still air. When he leaned back, held up by his arms, Chan entered in a new angle that drove you insane. You kept jerking off in front of him, knowing you were close to orgasming, and he knew it too.

“You can cum, baby,” he assured you, pushing his hips into yours, “I want to see you cum for me.”

“I want you to cum too,” you whined, your body slowly becoming more sensitive and quaking. “Please, Leader-nim, cum with me. Cum inside me, on me, however you want.”

“Then make me cum.”

You sat up and settled onto his lap. Chan sat with his legs outstretched, holding you by the hips as he cradled you. Sitting on it, you saw stars with him fully inside you. The both of you locked together, you pumped your fist over your cock while working Chan in time with it. Chan stared down to the scene below, just holding and watching as his own orgasm slowly approached. He’d been wanting to cum for a while, but withheld it to let you enjoy him. Now, he got to witness your climax up close.

“Go on,” he encouraged you, pinching your nipple for extra pleasure, “Make me cum. You want it so bad, then do it.”

“Oh god, Chan,” you moaned in a shaky breath, “Chan, Channie-hyung, fuck, oh my god.”

With a final push, both orgasms finally burst through. Hard and fast, they hit each of you like a freight train. Neither of you cared how loud or desperate you became. Your cum spilled over your fingers and squirted onto Chan’s stomach while his shot into the deepest part of you. Yet, even as you came down, it didn’t feel like enough. You’d wanted this for so long, and you needed more. Chan did not even have to ask. As his body started relaxing, he pulled you off him and onto your front. You didn’t object as he sandwiched his cock between your ass cheeks, enjoying the overstimulation that kept him from softening.

“You’re going to cum again for me,” he said, hand around your throat and lips pressed to your ear, “And again and again until I’m satisfied. I don’t care how long we’re here or how long it takes you.” He started with the same slow speed, “I’m loving this way too much to stop now.” 

“Yes,” you breathed, face half-buried in his sheets, “I don’t want to stop either.”

“That’s my boy,” he smirked, kissing the edge of your ear before sliding his tip over your hole. “Just relax for me,” he kissed the back of your shoulder, “And let me enjoy touching you.”

He lifted one leg up and reached around to stroke your sensitive cock. You shifted from the slight sparks his fist created, hands clawing around the sheets as you stayed still underneath him. He whispered more tender, filthy things in your ear while he steadily worked you to a full erection again. You still couldn’t believe this was happening. His hard body pressed on top of yours felt unreal. His arm snaked between the crevasse of hip and thigh, gingerly fondling you was only a dream. You whined and moaned each time he touched a particularly sensitive spot, pushing for friction and just to hear him hum in your ear. 

“This can’t really be real” you giggled, twitching when his thumb rolled around your tip. “I’m gonna wake up from a nap or something with a huge hard on and realize this isn't real.”

“I hope it’s real,” he replied, giving it a few gentle strokes as it grew in his hand. “Because I think I’d die if I woke up right now.” 

“Then let's not wake up,” you turned your head enough to kiss him briefly, earning more on your cheek and jawline. “Don’t let me wake up.”

“I won’t even let you sleep,” he said, a smirk in his voice as he pushed himself back inside you. “We’re not stopping until we’re completely empty,” he gave a slightly deeper push, “And I think we’re far from that right now.” 

When he slipped back inside, he did so at a sideways angle, keeping you pinned by a hand to your back as he charged. You saw stars once again, moaning into the sheets and gripping them tightly. Shaking and trembling, the friction of the sheets on your cock and Chan’s tip pushing directly onto your g-spot brought on bursts of sensitivity. You suddenly felt every point of pleasure you could. His weight kept you from meeting his hips, and this restraint aroused you more. 

“God, you’re taking my dick so well,” he groaned in a low voice, withdrawing and pushing back in several times. “It’s like this ass was made for me.”

“And that your dick was made for me.”

He chuckled through his teeth, hand going to your hair and grabbing a fistful of it. Chan stayed in that position a few minutes before pulling out completely. With a muttered ‘ride me’, you pushed him onto his back near the pillows and straddled him. You didn’t waste time. 

“That’s it,” he groaned, arms behind his head as he let you take control. “Throw it back just like that.”

Holding him down by his arms, you grinded and bounced on the dick swelling inside you. He felt too good. How could one person feel so good? You gripped his muscled arms, clenched your ass tightly. Your thighs started to burn by the time the both of you began shivering again. Soon, you milked a second orgasm out of him. He came in hard, shaking, panting breaths. He feverishly pushed up to you, causing your eyes to roll back each time. 

“Breed me, Leader-nim,” you groaned, clawing at his arms and mouth hanging open. “Fucking breed me, please. I want to be full of you…so fucking full…”

Chan made his last few thrusts deep, shooting as far as he could and becoming more sensitive as you kept going. The obscene sounds of his wet cock plunging into your full bottom brought you to orgasm all on its own. Your entire body tightened, nearly suffocating and blinding you in a shattering climax. When you finally came down, neither of you really stopped. Your body became too used to your position, so you only grinded on him as you bent down for a deep kiss. Chan remained inside even when he rolled you onto your sides. Wrapped around each other, you enjoyed the feeling of him simply planted there by the hilt. His lips went anywhere they could reach while your hands explored his body once more, memorizing trails and lines on him. 

“Let’s stay here tonight,” he said, kissing you softly. “I don’t want to be anywhere else but here right now.”

“Me either,” you agreed, eyes closed to take in his lips on your neck. “It feels right.”

“What does?”

“Being here with you,” you ran a hand up his neck to his hair, guiding him back to your lips. “It just feels right.”

“Oh yeah?” He gave a few pushes that produced a whine from you, “This does?”

“Yes,” you whispered. 

You whimpered when he withdrew and rolled you onto your front once more. Easily, he dragged you down the bed to the edge where he crouched down. Relaxing on to bed, you only hummed as he licked up the mess he’d left. He didn’t object when you idly played with yourself at the same time, enjoying the overstimulation coursing from both ends. When bits of drool fell onto your shaft, you used it as lube to slicken your hand. 

“This feels right too?” he asked between licks, sticking two fingers through your exposed hole. 

“Yes,” you breathed, wriggling and pushing into his hand until he held you down by your ass cheeks. You moaned when he slapped each cheek a few times, grabbing them hard and burying his fingers in your ass once more. “Maybe it was a bad thing for me to send those group chat videos.”

“Why, baby?”

“Because now you know every…every weakness…” 

“Or maybe we just like the same things,” he suggested, flicking his tongue over your balls and sucking them while you jerk yourself off. “Maybe you’re not the only pervert in this group, hm? Maybe I’m just as bad as you?” He smacked your ass just to hear you moan again, “Ever thought of that?” He slapped it one more time. “Huh?” 

“God, I hope that’s true,” you laughed. The slight stinging added to the fire kindling inside you again. “I feel so embarrassed when I think about how much I want to be fucked every day.”

“I do too,” he said, kissing your ass one more time before standing. He squeezed your cheeks together to sandwich his dick between them. The light grazes matched your strokes, and you wriggled at the sensation. “It’s all I think about,” he admitted, groaning when his tip nearly slipped into your ass, “Especially with you around. I have to stand in our dressing room, watching you get undressed and can’t stop thinking about fucking you into the nearest wall.” 

“Channie…”

“Or see you in the booth and think about bending you over a stool and recording your moans…”

“Please,” you moaned, “Do it. Do it all. Whenever you want. Please,” you moved his hands and held your cheeks apart, “Pretty please?”

You got your answer in another swift motion. Too worn out to stop him, you knelt there as Chan pulled you onto him. The idea of being Chan’s personal sex toy sounded too good to be true. You wanted so much more from him than that, but you’d be lying if you said that wouldn’t be a perk. Your third orgasm wasn’t as hard as the first two, though you found yourself pushing back to meet Chan’s hard, fast thrusts. He shot his third load over your ass, painting your cheeks with thin, clear streams and droplets of cum as he finished. 

Your bodies nearly jelly, the two of you laid on his bed in complete bliss. The most you both could do is light kisses and whispered words of love. You never felt more comfortable with a lover before. Albeit, your last partner was years ago and you’ve done nothing with anyone since, but it still felt real. Juhwan might’ve been your first love, yet you felt Chan becoming the real one. You couldn’t imagine anyone else in his place; not even the other members. Not really. You knew what they meant now as you admired Chan, listening to him talk about how he ended up getting his special neck pillow. 

Only a gentle knock on the door alerted you to the outside world. Changbin’s voice came through the door as he said, “You guys hungry? Han’s ordering chicken.”

“What do you think?” Chan asked you, holding you from behind under his covers as a movie played on his television. You'd both cleaned off as much as you could in your worn out state and cuddled together in his bed. 

“Chicken sounds good.”

“Sure!” he called back to Changbin. 

Changbin remained strangely quiet, then he opened the door a crack. Poking his head in, he took in the scene of you both, then said, “If you guys aren’t too tired later, Han and I-”

“-No!” Chan laughed, grabbing a balled up paper to toss at him. 

This made Changbin laugh and close the door. Nuzzling your neck, Chan suggested you both clean up properly before dinner. Yet, you had no desire to move. 

“We need to, baby,” he chuckled, face buried in your hair. “As nice as it is, we can’t stay like this.”

“Says who?” you challenged playfully, pulling both his arms around you so he stayed close. 

“Says me,” he replied. “Come on,” he groaned as he detangled himself from you. “Shower time.”

“We took a shower,” you pouted, reaching for his hand. Lord, he was gorgeous like this. “Stay.”

“You need another,” he insisted, bending to kiss you. 

“Hmph, fine,” you said, still pouting and getting off the bed. “But we’re coming right back,” you put your arms around his middle, “For more cuddles.”

“I wouldn’t want to do anything else…” he then quickly added, “Except maybe another round or two before we pass out completely.”

The both of you laughed as he led you out of the bedroom. If the world ended right then, you’d leave it happy. 

****

A/N: yaaaaay it finally happened!! Now that these two idiots are slowly coming together (wink), let's see how things develop! Thanks for reading <3 reblog and like please <3