#this is my first time drawing him since i was like 10 or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

delphi-shield · 2 months

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:// sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ғᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ / ʙɪʟʟʏ.ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ

Billy Butcher x Reader smut, hurt/no comfort wc: ~5.2k mdni read on ao3 digging the worms out of my brain real quick since i finally caught up with the boys. idk i think i worked through something personal with this, so like, that's a win for me.

summary: Butcher knows better than to be fucking around with you, but there's 50 quid in it for him if he gets you to call him 'daddy'. Easy money.

content: s4 spoilers, dubcon, butcher's pov, an exorbitant amount of kessler in the first half, age gap, general sleazy behavior, handjob, finger fucking, piv, pussy slapping, some just the tip action, blowjob, mentions of titfucking, degradation, general objectification, public sex, not proofread.

“Makes you realize men have nipples too.”

The bar is packed for a Wednesday night, but Butcher already knows exactly what Kessler is talking about. You’re a ditch lily, sitting tall in this shithole. He turns his head away, pretends he doesn't see the way you lick up a trail of spilled cosmopolitan from the side of your glass, pink tongue parting your lips, eyes half-shut.

Fucking typical. Kessler could sniff out daddy issues and sadness from a mile away, and he was lethal at half that distance. He could have them wrapped around his finger in the time it took Butcher to take a piss.

His eyes linger. A thing like you doesn't belong in a dump like this. This is the sort of place girls like you stumble into at 1 AM, survey the crowd through the haze of cigarette smoke, and wobble right back out onto the streets, take your chances with the elements rather than the haggard, unfriendly crowd that hunches over their drinks.

Butcher likes Midwest 10's. Begs Kessler to stop ogling barely legal co-eds, says he's not some sleazy cunt in a John Hughes film. He can lie all he wants. If it makes him hard, it makes Butcher hard.

He glances sidelong at your face. You've got this Christmas-light bright smile that makes his dick jerk. Kessler’s more than under his skin. He’s in his veins, in the same blood that raises his cock up like a goddamn bicycle pump when you lean over the bar, arms squeezing your tits together.

"You could probably fuck 'em." Kessler tips his head to the side, eyes locked on your cleavage. His eyes narrow, lips pursed, evaluating your chest and charting a course for his dick to travel.

"Shut up."

"Huh?"

Fuck. Your tip your head to the side from two seats away, brows pinched together. Cute, in a lost little lamb kind of way.

Butcher's eyes cut to Kessler. He's cocked it all up now. The sly, punchable grin on Kessler’s face turns him back to his drink. He drains his glass and gestures for another. If he doesn’t look at you, if he keeps drinking, this all goes away.

"Nothin'. Don't you worry about it, love."

That should be the end of it, but you’ve clearly got something wrong with you. You fiddle with your purse, pluck up your courage, and drop yourself onto the barstool next to him. Whether you’ve got no sense of self-preservation or you’re just that damn oblivious, he doesn’t intend to get to know you well enough to find out. Butcher's strained smile doesn't do much to smooth the worry lines away.

Kessler chuckles, leans back and props his elbows up on the bar. Cunt just wants to watch him squirm.

"No," Kessler corrects, drawing the word out. "I want you to get some pussy."

His eyes dart over to Kessler, looming over you, hands ghosting up your arms to squeeze your shoulders. He blinks rapidly, rubs at his face, tries to play it off like he's nervous or tired or whatever the fuck but when he looks down, there's your tits again. Butcher lolls his head back to the ceiling. Laugh it up, you fuckin’ cunt.

And Kessler does. Makes a show of slapping his hand on his thigh, head knocked back, grinning toothily.

He tries to ignore you, but you’re straddling that stool next to him in your little skirt and ordering another cosmo. This isn’t the kind of bar for cocktails, and he knows without even seeing the bartender’s eye roll that he hates you.

It's none of his business. He ought to keep himself sat there drowning in his drink ‘til last call and past that, make them throw him out on the street, give him a reason to swing first. It's a better idea than messing with you.

The bartender drops your drink off in front of you and turns before the words ‘thank you’ leave your glossy lips. Another sickly pink cocktail with a dried out lime dropped on top. Butcher can’t help himself. He’s got a soft spot for the clueless.

“Cheery bloke, isn't he?” He says, casting a sidelong glance at the bartender. He taps a finger against the bartop, inclines his head toward your cocktail. “That the only drink you know the name of?”

Your cheeks warm. You hide it behind a hand, turning your face away from him to laugh.

“What? No. I just think they taste good.”

Kessler snorts. “That’s a fat load of shit.”

Butcher agrees. His mouth twists into a half-hearted smile. He slides his glass over to you.

“Try it,” he insists.

There’s hardly a passing thought for your own safety. You look between his scotch and his face and seem to decide it’s safe to take drinks from strange old fucks in bars. Your fingers brush his when you take the glass, warm and soft - sticky. You must be more sloshed than you look, must keep spilling your drinks. Hell, for all he knows, maybe this place does make the best cosmo in the city. Maybe the bartender just hates your ass because you keep making a mess.

You don’t even ask what he’s drinking. (Maybe this is all a grift, he thinks. Kessler’s at his ear, chuckling - she ain’t bright enough for that.) You lift his glass and leave your lipstick behind.

“Oh my god.” You sputter, pound a fist against your chest. It makes your tits bounce. Fucking miracle your shirt is containing those things. “That tastes like ass.”

“That is the highest quality scotch this bar serves.”

“It tastes like someone put a cigarette out in a glass of whiskey.”

“It’s a shit bar.”

You laugh, head tipped back, nose scrunched - the works. You’re too tipsy for it to be on purpose. Being cute comes naturally to you. Must be how you’ve made it this far.

You pass his drink back and scoot your cosmo closer to you, spilling it as the glass skips over the pock-marked countertop. Butcher snorts, dabs it up for you with his sleeve. He’s starting to think his theory about the cosmopolitans might hold true.

“Well, here, a trade’s a trade.” He takes your drink by the stem (fucking amazed they even have martini glasses in this place) and pounds back a mouthful.

It isn’t that bad, but he makes a show of scrunching his nose and shaking his head. He slides your drink back over to you and mirrors the way you had clung to your drink.

“You’re kidding,” you laugh. “It’s better than yours. I don’t know how you drink that.”

“I’ll keep my liquid ashtray, thanks.”

Your eyes are all lit up when you smile, but it emphasizes the raw edges, the puffiness that lingers. Rough night for you, by the looks of it. Not like he’s having much of a better one.

There’s no harm in it. No harm in showing you what a proper drink tastes like, broadening your horizons and helping you both forget what a shit hand you’ve been dealt. He buys you a drink on the condition that you try something that isn’t a cosmopolitan. You can hardly stomach a whiskey and coke. He orders you a fernet and coke for shits and giggles, expects you to spit it out like all the rest, barks out a laugh when you declare it’s tasty, notes of lavender drawing you in. Notes of lavender - Christ, what fucking suburb did you pop out of?

He introduces you to more drinks, leans closer with each empty glass. You're new here, you tell him. You tell him your name, too, not that he remembers. Got stood up on some shitty date. He knows it’s got to be shitty because what idiot in his right mind would take you here, of all places?

By the time he orders you both shots of Rumple Minze, you’re pressed shoulder to shoulder. Your hand splays against his chest, head leaning against him. You lift his shot to his lips for him and he’s too drunk to find it childish and irritating. He downs it and does the same for you, watches you extend that pretty neck to drink it down.

“I’ll get you a cab,” he slurs, rocking unsteadily to his feet.

“I already called an Uber.”

Jesus. It’s a struggle not to roll his eyes. Fucking kids. Allergic to one night stands, couldn’t take a hint to save their life. Even Kessler is on his side, his head thunking against the bartop.

It's for the best, he thinks, trying to curb his disappointment. He's got shit to do. Ryan to worry about. Kessler's a right cunt, pushing him to you. He hasn't got the time to be fucking about. This entire thing had been a waste of time, too busy trying to get his dick wet to make the most of what he’s got left.

Butcher stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat, steps back, ready to split and stumble his way back home. He nods quick and sharp, tight-lipped smile to keep his frustration locked behind his teeth.

You show him your phone, make him squint to see what he’s supposed to be looking at. “My Uber is still a couple minutes away, so…”

Kessler picks his head up from the bar. He's a bloodhound for pussy. He picks up the leading edge in your voice before Butcher’s even done parsing your words.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Kessler drones. “You can’t even get it up, can you?”

“I’m damn well going to try.”

“What?” You laugh, swaying on your feet.

Butcher wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you against his side. “Nothin’. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll keep you company. Make sure no nasties try to get you.”

The cold outside is bracing. You wrap your arms tight around yourself and this time Butcher’s too drunk to pretend he isn't staring at the way your tits press together.

It’s your idea. Really. The way you look up at him, the way your lips stay parted while the pair of you pace the sidewalk. You wrap your hand around his bicep and squeeze, eyes drifting slowly to the side, to the alleyway just a few strides away.

See? It’s your idea, honest. He drags you behind a dumpster, pins you to the wall of the alley, and shoves his tongue down your throat, yeah, but you moan so fucking loud and drag him closer. It takes longer than he'd like for your hand to stop massaging his chest and start fondling his cock, but you're a sweet girl - don't seem the type to do this too often. Need some guidance.

Butcher lays his hand atop yours, wraps your fingers tighter around his bulge. Your breath hitches, your eyes flicking down to your hand, mouth popped open - got this sweet, vacant little look in your eye.

He'd bet real money you go dumb for cock.

“$50 says you can get her to call you ‘daddy’,” Kessler pipes up, leaning against the wall next to you. He tips a cigarette into his mouth, cups a hand around to light it, and Butcher swears the light from his zippo gleam in your eyes. He doesn’t doubt it. Seems cruel, though, especially when he can’t remember your name.

“What was your name again?”

It takes a bit for you to get dick off your mind and fish around for your name. You mumble, make him lean in close and tilt his head to get you to say it again, clearer.

You're the obedient sort. Pick up on cues so easy. Don't even make him ask for it again. He pats your cheek, smirk creasing his face.

By your side, Kessler flashes a crisp $50. He plucks it taut, fans himself with it, makes a real show of being a dick while you try to take Butcher's out of his pants.

At the end of the day, 50 quid is 50 quid.

“How ‘bout you ask daddy for permission, sweetheart?”

Your mouth moves wordlessly.

“Please?”

He clicks his tongue. “That’s real polite. But it ain’t what I asked for, is it?”

“Can I please play with your cock, daddy?”

“Better.”

Kessler slips the fifty into Butcher’s coat pocket while you fumble with his belt and free him from his pants. You lay his cock in the seam of your hands, cupping him like he’s a gift on two legs. You stroke him reverently, look up at him with big, thoughtless lamb eyes.

Your heart’s in it, but you’re too reserved for his taste. He grips your hand in his and guides you down his cock, shows you when to squeeze, when to twist your wrist, how to flick your thumb over the slit of his tip.

He can never make it last when he drinks. Should have warned you before he came on your pretty skirt, but you’ve got a natural talent for stroking dick. He keeps his groan locked up tight. It rattles through his chest and he leans into you, crushing you against the wall of the alley. His hips stutter and rut into your hand, still wrapped around him, coaxing every drop from his tip. You still toy with him while he tries to catch his breath. He’s got to push away from you with a mumbled “Christ, all right, that’s enough.”

It’s like he’s taking your favorite toy away. You pout up at him, hand still molded for his cock by your side, by the skirt his ruined with his cum. He almost gets an apology out, but you drag a finger through his mess and bring it to your lips, make a show of licking it up.

His chest aches. He isn’t sure if it’s the tumor or his heart desperately trying to pump enough blood down to his dick to get him up again.

Butcher crams two fingers into his mouth and scrapes the dirt from beneath his nails with his teeth. The rest is a blur. He knows that he kicks your feet apart, traces your slit through your panties before he pushes them to the side and finger fucks you until your head snaps back against the wall. It’s quick, messy - leaves his forearm soaked. He’s not so sure that was real, but he’s too drunk to figure it out, too gone ask.

He tucks himself back into his pants. You set your panties back in place, skirt still hiked up to your ribs. You slip a little lower down the wall, panting. He stops you before you can slip all the way down, pats your cunt, and tugs your skirt back into place.

“Let’s get you a cab, eh?”

That’s the last thing he remembers clearly. You’d missed your Uber, had to take a cab with him anyway. He remembers you leaning against him, tucked up against his side, hand stroking his chest. He’d pet your hair - soft as lamb’s wool - and whispered nonsense against your head just to get a laugh out of you. After you get out, the whole thing’s blank.

When Butcher wakes up at 2 PM the next day, choking on his own vomit, he can't find the 50 quid. He turns his jacket inside out searching for it. A scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it falls from his jacket pocket. He doesn’t spare it more than a glance and keeps digging for his wallet.

Lambs lose their appeal after the flying cunts nearly bit his cock off.

That farm had been dirty business. Wicked stuff, the kind that doesn't wash off. This work always has been, but this time the blood doesn't come out from under his fingernails. He tastes bile every time he breathes. The copper twang of blood trickling down the back of his throat is the only chaser he gets anymore.

He doesn't think of you often. He knows it'd break your little heart to hear it, have you looking up at him with those ‘fuck me, I'm sad’ eyes and that little girl pout that makes him feel every bit the lech he is. You’re a sweet thing. Vacant, just like him. It didn’t take long to piece that together.

You’re easy and malleable, quick to fit yourself around him in whatever way he demands. He liked that about you at first.

But when he calls on you at three in the morning for a quick lay and you answer the door in a full face of make-up, hair done and wearing the sort of nightgown that no one actually sleeps in, all he feels is distaste.

You let him crowd you against your couch (a neutral color, no blanket in sight, your living room just as blank as the rest of you) without so much as a ‘hello’. You hook a leg over his hip. No panties, he realizes, eyes locked on your drippy cunt, already flushed. Been touching yourself to the thought of this. He warms a little at the thought.

Butcher wedges his knee between your leg and grinds. Any warmth you’d kindled with wet pussy dissipates the moment you moan so goddamn loud, the sound hollow and plastic. He keeps his leg still, flexes his thigh for you to grind on. His jaw tightens. He nearly shoves his fingers in your mouth to keep you from making those stupid fucking noises.

You let him twist you up however he wants, more a posable toy than a person. He pushes you further along the couch until your back arches awkwardly against the arm. You don't protest. Of course you don't.

His thick fingers trail down your slit, part your slick folds for his inspection. He sways back on his haunches, admires the pretty way he's got you arranged, pinned open on his fingers for him.

He brings his hand down sharply on pussy once, twice - and the third time directly to your clit is just because you kept making that annoying fucking noise. That nasally, porn-star whine that drills him between the eyes and makes his hard-on flag. The way you twitch and jerk at each hit might be genuine but that fucking noise drives him up a wall. Christ, there's got to be something about you that's real.

Pussy’s real. Can’t fake that, he thinks.

“Stay right there,” he says, a bite to his voice when you try to shift against him again. If you could just lay there and take it - is that so much to ask for?

He guides himself to you, hips rocking experimentally. You suck his head in and his chin dips to his chest. He groans deep. It turns to a growl when you raise your hips. He lays his forearm against you, pressing you down - and that moan might have been real.

“Can't you do fucking anything right?” He snaps. His hips push forward, bullying himself deeper into you. You suck a breath through your teeth, your hand bracing against his forearm. “I told you to stay right there.”

A spark of indignation flickers in your eyes, flash-fire flushed out by the same pitiful little lamb wool you pull back over your eyes. Makes you look all downy, plush and fuckable - he's fished more respectable shits from the toilet.

You’re a good girl for a few more shallow thrusts, lay there just like he wants while he works himself to the hilt. He finds his rhythm sloppily, one knee propped on the couch, the other foot planted on the floor. Your tits bounce with every thrust and he’s stupid enough to take his hands off of you, trust you not to move while he gropes at your breast.

Immediately you rise to your elbows, try to arch your back deeper. He’s positive you’re trying to mimic some video, down to the exact angle of your spine, but your heart isn’t in it. His cock butts against your walls, shallower than before, the pleasure that had been tearing through his blood coming to a screeching halt. He hisses through his teeth, grinding out his frustration.

“Don't –” his shoves you back down, hand flattening against your cheek and pushing your face into the couch. Feels fucking awful any other position. “–fucking move. Don't fucking move. Trying to cum. Goddammit.”

Your hands curl into fists by your head. You hide your face, press it deeper into the cushion and he presses your face deeper to help you. The noise you make is pitiful, but at least it's real.

Fucking hell. Now he’s completely out of it. You’ve gone and fucked up pussy for him. He didn’t think that was possible. He can’t find the angle he needs, can’t get back to that gummy spot that make his vision blur.

He pulls out and flips you onto your stomach, ignoring the little whine you make. You don’t raise your hips - god forbid you take a fucking hint - so he sits you up for him and wedges his dick back in. It only takes a few thrusts for him to realize this is worse. Tighter, dry, chafing his dick like goddamn sandpaper.

“Your cunt shrivel up or something? Feels fucking terrible.”

He snatches your wrist, pulls your arm back at an angle that makes you cry out, and fills your palm with lube. Can't even get wet on your own. Fucking Christ, he's got to do everything for you. Even has to curl your fingers around his cock, drag your hand back and forth until you final get the big, swinging fucking hint and jerk him off.

He meant to stuff himself back into your cunt, but at this point your hand will do. Six one way, half a dozen the other. At least your hand doesn't chafe.

You’re silent now. Small mercies. The only sounds are the slick of your palm working him over and his labored breaths. Your hand is clumsy at this angle, but he’s not going to risk letting you move and fuck it all up again.

Once he’s close, he drops your hand and flips you onto your back again. A big hand presses your knees apart, opens you up for him. You're still so pliable, even if the sheen is gone from your cunt. You try to fix your hair. If he notices the tears brimming your eyes, he doesn't say anything.

He lines himself back up with your cunt, dragging himself through your folds. Your knees knock closer with each pass of his bright red tip over your clit. He taps it once with his cock, expecting another produced moan to rattle the walls, but you only whimper, your thighs trying to close around him.

Butcher smirks. He pumps himself into you, keeps himself shallow - just the tip past your puffy lips.

You whimper, try to shuffle down and take more of him. Butcher’s hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks so hard it stings.

“Don't you fucking move,” he grits out. You used to take instruction so well. Now you've gotten all up in your own head. Nobody likes an uppity bitch, he ought to make you see that.

What he really ought to do is make you get down there and jerk him off. Your hand is still slicked, but you'd probably piss yourself at the chance. Instead, he pushes your knees damn near up to your ears and barks for you to hold your own legs. Your hands curl around the backs of your knees. There you go. Figuring it out again.

His hand strokes his dick quick and hard, one hand dedicated to keeping himself just inside you. It doesn't take long for him to cum. It’s a slow burn that seeps up through his belly, lattices up his ribs and congeals in his chest, makes him ache and cave over your body while his hips sputter. He squeezes himself dry, pumps his cum into your pussy until it flows past his tip and seeps down onto your couch.

Butcher lingers over you, catching his breath. He’s already gone soft, his cock dropped out of you. He sits back against the opposite arm of the couch, splays himself out while you curl up.

Something burns in his chest - remorse, maybe. You’re all curled up against your couch, cheek cushioned on your arm - won’t look at him, don’t paw at him or lean against his side, don’t even reach to clean yourself up.

His head knocks back to the ceiling. He can’t be bothered to pull answers out of you. He reaches for the tissue box on your coffee table, plucks a handful, and cleans himself off.

He tosses the box back to the coffee table and shoves his boots back on, barely taking the time to lace them up properly. He scoops he coat up from where you’d shucked it onto the floor, buttons himself back up, and you still haven’t moved. His eyes linger on you for a moment, brow set low.

Can’t be bothered, he reminds himself. He runs a hand through his hair and makes for your door, boots thunking heavily against your floors.

“Can I see you again?”

You’ve managed to pick your head up when he glances back at you. You sound so desperate it's pitiful. His lip curls. He runs a hand over his head, looks anywhere but you.

Christ, even your apartment is blank and devoid of personality. He hadn't noticed it before, too consumed with the need to get between your thighs. He shrugs, and gives you a lifeless smile.

“We'll see.”

Butcher closes your door behind him and hurries down the hall. He turns the corner to see Kessler’s cheshire grin greeting him in the dark of your stairwell.

He ought to get right with you before his time comes. He isn't proud of the way things ended. Butcher’s a right bastard, but he isn't blind; he'd seen the look on your face, the hopeful shine in your eyes dulling when he'd left you there without so much as a ‘cheers, love, thanks for the rub’.

He doesn't bother texting you. He's already posted up outside your apartment. Giving you a heads up would only give him time to pussy out.

Besides, you're home. He knows it. You’re piss-easy to track. Home to work, work to home, same route, same time. It will be easy to knock on your door, get his closure, and slip out of your life for the last time.

It should be easy. He’s had harder conversations with people who meant more to him but he keeps staring at your door, trying to will himself to knock. He’s not that weak yet. He can still raise his hand.

Butcher turns to leave just as you open the door. His shoulders tense when you call out to him.

“Billy?” You blurt out. There’s genuine surprise there.

“I just thought I’d –” He turns to catch a glimpse of you and it sends him headlong into silence.

You look a right mess. No face isn’t done up, an oversized t-shirt draping off your shoulders. Your pajama pants are fluffy, snowflake print - tackiest thing he’s seen in a while.

You duck your head down, trying to catch his eye.

“You okay?” You hook your thumb over your shoulder. “Want to come in?”

He doesn’t. Not even a little. He wants to rip the band-aid off, forget he ever met you and let you get on with your life - whatever it is you do. But you step to the side and fix him with a weak little smile that he thinks might be real, and his feet take him in through the door.

It’s a nice place in the daytime, he realizes. Natural sunlight, open floorplan, your shelves crowded with plants and knick-knacks he’s never seen. You offer him a drink, laugh when he says water and fall quiet when he insists.

You hand him his drink and collapse onto your couch. Your legs kick up onto your coffee table, and for the first time he realizes your socks are fuzzy, too. He looks around, scans you from head to toe. Is this the right place? He keeps picking at his nails, trying to free the grime from under them.

Once you realize he’s baffled, you’re merciful enough to start the small talk. It’s awkward and stilted - his fault, his answers halting and quick. You give him grace, sip on your drink. Your laughs never quite reach your eyes, but you scoot closer to him on the couch anyway.

“Why are you really here, Billy?” Your hand settles on his thigh and curls inward.

It’s not how he wanted this to go, but he doesn’t stop you from sliding your hand higher while he chokes on his words. You’ve got his belt undone by the time he manages to string a sentence together.

“I've been a right cunt to you.”

“Mhm.”

“You don't got to put up with it, yeah?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Got your whole life right ahead of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Fucking Christ, could you give him more than a noise? A few moments ago you’d held a conversation with him.

His irritation is snuffed out by your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock and sucking hard. Your hand pumps his shaft, twisting your wrist on the way back up. Good God, you learn quick.

Butcher could spoil you rotten if he had the time. He could get you whatever you wanted - if ever you wanted for anything. He cups a hand over the back of your head, encouraging, not guiding.

You’re methodical. You let your hand work what your mouth won’t reach, fondle his balls with the other one. It’s clinical. You’ve committed the moves to memory, when to swirl your tongue, hollow your cheeks, when to moan around him, when to look up at him with those tears straining at your waterline.

He finishes quick, his chest heaving. You pass him his water while you reach for a tissue box. He drains it and nearly misses you spitting his cum into a tissue, wadding it up and tossing it into the bin.

“I haven’t got much time left,” he says, breathless.

Your brow creases. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your lips swollen. “What?”

“I’ve got this –” he gestures nebulously with a hand, like he’s trying to pluck the right words out of the air. “– thing. In my brain, see? Inoperable. So, if I up and vanish on you, it ain’t personal.”

You stay silent, stone faced. He wishes you’d say something. Even one of the irritating platitudes people like to parrot would be better than this. Your eyes harden. You purse your lips, breathe deep, and stand from the couch.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, Billy. It was good to see you.”

Butcher’s still trying to catch his breath. He tucks himself back into his pants, a mess he’ll clean up later, and rises unsteadily. You don’t reach out to help. He makes another nebulous gesture towards you, his hand quivering.

“You want me to..?”

“Nah. Don’t strain yourself.”

He stuffs himself back into his coat, watching your eyes linger - maybe realizing for the first time how much slighter he’s looking. Butcher pats your cheek gently as he passes by.

You don’t ask to see him again. For your sake, he hopes this is the last time.

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher smut #the boys smut #the boys x reader #billy butcher imagine #the boys imagine #billy butcher x you #the boys x you #the boys #billy butcher

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ilovewrittingsmut · 1 month

Text

Cause I don't want you like a best friend.

Only bought this dress so you can take it off.

Nanami x fem!reader

Nanami had been your best friend since jujutsu high, but deep down, you always harbored secret feelings for him.

For nearly 10 years, there had been an unspoken tension between you two, but now, the day, your birthday party, had finally come when you could no longer keep your feelings hidden.

Contents: Friends to lovers, little bit of suggestive content, YEARNING, love confession omg I need him so bad

an. this is my first time writing a long ass fanfic and first time posting here (disclaimer English is not my first language.) so hope you guys enjoy!!!

Btw this was inspired by the song “dress” by Taylor Swift so I recommend you listen to this song while reading.

Enjoy reading!!!

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0:00

K.: happy birthday to my best friend, my one and only, I hope you have the best day and I will see you in this evening at your birthday party. See you!

The moment the clock ticked past 23:59, a short, high-pitched tone from your phone jolted you awake.

There he was...always the first.

Every year, he was the first to wish you a happy birthday.

He was just a very nice friend of yours—or so you kept trying to convince yourself.

You: Thank a bunch kento! See you at my party.

Today, you made up your mind to tell him everything—that his one and only best friend had always had feelings and pined for him.

You knew there was a real possibility that everything could go downhill, and you might be the one to ruin the friendship you two had built over nearly ten years, ever since you were just high schoolers.

But you just couldn’t hold back anymore.

It was terribly painful. You knew that telling him might be selfish, but holding back those heart-racing feelings, the soft words left unspoken, the lingering gaze, and the words "I love you" felt torturous—like holding a knife in your chest.

Only if he knew, all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting.

The prospect of confessing your love to him consumed your thoughts throughout the night, leaving you restless. Countless considerations raced through your mind—what outfit would be most fitting, how should you apply your makeup, and the nagging question of whether you would be enough to capture his heart.

This might be your most bizarre birthday ever.

8:00

The dark circles under your eyes were a testament to the mere two hours of sleep you managed to get—or perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a brief nap.

This year, you decided to treat yourself by taking the day off as a birthday gift to yourself, with that being said, you had lots of time to arrange the party and lots of time to…think about him.

K.: Don't worry about the party. I'll be at your place by noon, and I've bought plenty of food. Just take it easy, I'll be there to help you with the arrangements.

Speaking of the devil, Nanami himself texted you, almost as if he could read your very thoughts.

As always, there was the way he seemed to be able to read your unspoken message that was all over inside your mind, the way he seemed to reserve a special place in his heart just for you, the way he would turn himself against the world if it meant protecting you. It made you believe that, just as you were in love with him, he might have always been in love with you too.

But you still weren’t sure if he was just being a good friend or if it actually was something beyond than that.

You couldn’t help it, your heart just sank at the mere thought of him.

You just couldn’t take it anymore.

You knew you had to do something to escape these tangled, muddy thoughts. You decided to head straight to your closet just to clear your mind and looked for one of your favorite dresses—or to be honest, the dress that would draw all of his honey-brown eyes on you.

You dragged your fingers across the hangers, pausing as they brushed against one particular dress—your black, simply elegant dress. It featured a straight neckline with thin adjustable straps, a leg slit, and subtle pleat detailing at the waist. It was the dress that never failed to make you feel confident, alluring, and undeniably captivating.

You’d bought it a long time ago with the thought of him seeing you in it, imagining those hungry eyes fixed on you and only you. You’d been waiting for the right opportunity to wear it, not just because it looked absolutely stunning on you, but because it was for him, a manifestation of your hidden desire.

You took off your former clothes and slipped into the dress. As the fabric hugged your body, you couldn’t help but imagine his big stronger manly hands gliding over you, his hot lips whispering sweet nothings in your ear, him slowly taking that dress off, and his lips tracing every curve of your body. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, making your heart race even faster.

Your body yearned for all of it—you wanted it, you needed it. As your hands glided over your shoulders, down to your waist, and then between your thighs, you couldn’t help but wish they were his hands, not yours. The longing was almost unbearable, a deep ache that only he could satisfy.

Your head, your body, every part of you was consumed by thoughts of him. You couldn’t help it; your mind was completely clouded by the image of him.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, imagining his skin touching yours, his hot breath against your sensitive skin, his lips lingering all over your body. Suddenly, you were jolted awake by the high-pitched ringtone of your phone. You grabbed it irrationally, and all the annoyance on your face vanished when you saw his name flashing on the screen. You answered the god damn phone within a second.

“Hey, I got lucky and finished up earlier than I expected. I’m standing in front of your door, could you come and open it for me, please?”

His voice was so clam and gentle for you like always. You could listen to him rumbling all day long without getting tired.

And for heaven's sake, you hadn't even put on your makeup yet. Nothing had gone as planned. You had envisioned everything being perfect, wanting to look flawless, just for him. The anticipation of his arrival had derailed your carefully laid plans, leaving you scrambling to present yourself in the best possible light. You wanted everything to be just right, to impress him and make the moment unforgettable.

“What can I say? I haven’t done my makeup yet. Sorry if I sound a bit flustered, but I’d really rather you not see me without it.”

You had no idea what you just said, like what the fuck, why you had to said it out loud.

“You’re so funny sometimes. I’ve seen you without makeup countless times before. Remember? I was there through your emo phase. There’s nothing to be embarrassed to me.”

“Just shut up okay?, you were emo too at that time. Never bring that topic up again. Please!!”

Between you two, there were so many unspoken rules and inside jokes that no one else could understand.

You were flattered, sososo flattered, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth everytime as he teased you, though you hated how easily you blushed. You quickly ended the call and walked to the door, still wearing that dress.

Your hand rushed to open the door, and as it swung open, your gaze met his. His eyes sparkled with a warm, heavenly glow the moment he saw you standing there, and the look of delight on his face made your heart skip a beat.

“Can I come in?”

“Indeed”

You tried to act as normal as possible, but your heart was betraying you, racing wildly with every beat.

“You look great.”

He didn’t really stare at you but he did look at you with unspeakable things in his eyes for sure.

“Thanks”

Why the hell on earth you were so awkward like that.

“I have never seen this dress”

You had no idea just how much of his attention was always focused on you.

“Because I haven’t wear it.”

“You should wear it more often, you look good.”

He tried to turn his head away but his pupils just so flared for you.

God, did he just admit that you were so pretty, leading both of you to get very flustered

“Here, your favorite chicken wings,pasta from your favorite restaurant, some of frozen pizza and this..”

He reached into his bag and pulled out something.

“Bread…I baked it for you”

He pulled out a loaf of homemade, crusty artisan bread, baked just for you.

“For me?”

“Of course”

The small smile appeared around his eyes as you inhaled deeply.

“Thank you, you’re the best.”

“No need for that, also happy birthday and thank you for everything.”

“Thank you for always being by my side, I…”

He hesitated before speaking the next word, his fingers fidgeting as he wrestled with his nerves.

“I can’t imagine my life without you”

He turned his head sideways to avoid staring straight ahead, crossing his arms across himself as he stepped backwards.

Was he being romantic?

You had no clue what did that actually mean. You excessively swallowed all the tension as you shot him with your darting gaze.

Fuck, it was so hard to be just friends with him. You probably showed to much signs right now and he would probably could read all of that.

For god sake, you hated the way he could read you like a book that was why you always avoided the topic of romance because he always knew when you were lying so prevent confrontation, you just prefer never had a conversation about love with him.

The next words about to leave his mouth might very well make you crumble to your knees. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep your feelings hidden.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation that you hold back and it was killing you.

It was just an inch away—just one pathetic inch away that separated you from remaining friends and becoming something more.

You genuinely didn’t know why your brain just went blank when you looked at him. You were going insane.

The way that he always gawked at you, just friends didn’t look at each other like that…

Everything was so inescapable and you were not even gonna try.

Your hands were shaking from holding back from all these.

It was now or never.

“Kento…I don’t think that I can be your friend anymore”

The words were said by your shivering voice hung in the air, charged with a gravity that seemed to make time itself slow down. You could see the confusion flicker in his eyes, the hurt starting to take shape behind them.

“What…why? I’m sorry did I do something wrong? Can we talk about that? Please?”

“No it’s not about you…it’s about me.”

“I don’t want you like a best friend.”

You stopped. The silence between you two was heavy, like the moments before a storm breaks. Your heart pounded against my chest, each beat echoing with the fear of the unknown. You had spent so long wrestling with your feelings, trying to suppress them, trying to maintain the facade of friendship. But the weight of your emotions had grown too great, and now the truth had to be spilled out, threatening to unravel everything.

“I hate to risk our friendship, but I can’t keep this hidden anymore.”

You took a deep breath, the words spilling out with a raw urgency you could no longer contain.

“I can’t do this anymore, I fall in love with you so head over heels and fuck it I can’t not love you. It’s just not in me…shit did I just say it out loud?”

The confession hung between you, trembling with the weight of your unspoken desires and fears.

Kento’s gaze softened, his confusion giving way to a profound sadness. He opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words came. The vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

You stood there, heart racing, feeling a mix of relief and dread. The risk you took was immense, but you knew you couldn’t continue living with the secret any longer. Now, the future of your friendship and potentially something more was uncertain, hanging in the thread of his response.

“I’m sorry.”

The feelings were so overwhelming as tears began to fall from the corners of your eyes as the weight of your confession settled over you. You feared that you might have already ruined everything, the possibility of losing him forever or changing everything you had cherished flashing through your mind. Each tear that slipped down your cheek felt like a tangible symbol of your anxiety and regret.

“Idiot, you are an idiot.”

His response took you by surprise. A small smile appeared on his face, and his tender, sweet eyes remained fixed on you, full of warmth and affection. The words you’d feared would end everything seemed instead to be the beginning of something new, as his gaze softened with understanding and something more profound.

“Why haven’t you said anything sooner?”

He took a step closer, tilting his head slightly to look at your tear-streaked face. His hands reached out, and before you could react, his strong arms enveloped you. The warmth of his body surrounded you, providing a comforting embrace that seemed to chase away the uncertainty and fear. In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief and tenderness, as if everything you had hoped for was finally coming to fruition.

“I’ve loved you all my life.”

He whispered against your ear, his breath warm and intimate, leaving no inches between you two . The confession was soft yet profound, mingling with the beat of your heart and the steady rhythm of his. The closeness of your bodies made the moment feel both fragile and incredibly real, as if all the unspoken feelings and hidden desires had finally found their voice.

“I always thought you knew just how much I’ve been yearning for you.”

he said, frustration clear in his voice. He cursed under his breath, his eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and vulnerability. The emotion was raw and unfiltered, as he grappled with the reality of his unspoken desires and the intensity of his feelings.

“You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?"

“And I always thought that you would never look at me this way,”

he murmured, his voice trembling slightly.

“I mean, look at me… I don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you. You are… everything.”

His words, so full of vulnerability and self-doubt, seemed to echo in the space between you. The depth of his feelings was laid bare, each word imbued with a mix of longing and disbelief. You could feel the intensity of his emotions as he spoke, his face close to yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“I was a real selfish man. ”

Admitted, his voice filled with regret.

“I kept you all to myself as my best friend because… I thought it was the only way to be the man who was lucky enough to be near you.”

His confession was raw and honest, his eyes reflecting a deep, conflicted emotion. The vulnerability in his voice revealed how much he had struggled with his own desires and the fear of losing you. As he spoke, it became clear how profoundly he valued your presence in his life and how conflicted he felt about the boundaries he had set.

“I really enjoy every moment spending with you and you have no idea how much I have always cherished those days we went through together, I know…I know so well that I do not deserve any of that but…”

“I know I’m not good enough for you so I decide to love you as much as this man can do and…”

He had a hard time saying all of those words as you could see.

“Ken, with love, please shut up.”

You cut him off as his confession had overwhelmed you, and you no longer needed to hear any more of his heartfelt words. All you wanted in that moment was to kiss him. The intensity of your feelings was too strong to be contained by words alone, and you found yourself yearning to close the distance between you with a kiss that would express everything you felt.

Oh god you couldn’t believe it that you two were both pining like idiots for all these years??

“Yeah, okay I will shut up but I need to tell you something, so what if I dreamt about kissing you for almost ten years? Don’t we all do that with our best friends? …hm? What do you think about it”

“Best friends my ass” you thought and let a small giggle. He might have been serious no he wasn’t, but his playful tone made you laugh despite the intensity of the moment. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. Goosebumps spread across your skin wherever he touched, heightening the electric tension between you. His touch was both soothing and thrilling, making it clear that the line between friendship and something more had finally blurred.

“Ken…Just shut up and kiss me already. Idiot.”

“Your idiot, just yours,”

he murmured, his voice low and tender.

“Only a fool for you.”

He mumbled the words against your soft lips before slowly pressing his own against yours. The kiss that followed was everything you had always dreamed of, so gentle yet filled with an intensity that spoke of all the feelings unspoken until now.

And that dress was eventually taken off by your best mate that day or could I say, your future husband.

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miviaceleste · 2 months

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A Blackrock Story: A Boy with Turquoise Eyes

Happy 12th Anniversary to Blackrock Chronicle!

This comic ended up being 47 pages long (when I first sketched it, it was only 20 pages long). Since I can only upload 30 images in a post, I had to combine 2 pages into 1 image so hopefully it's still visually fine and not annoying to scroll through!

I wrote this mini-story more than 10 years ago, so I figured it was time to finally make it into a comic (after editing the writing a lot because I became a much better writer since lol).

Be aware of the TWs, and I hope you enjoy this comic!

TW: Violence || Blood || Injuries/Scars/Burn Marks || Kidnapping || (Temporary) Death || Loss of Limb / Amputation

Thank you all for reading one of my most insane projects ever!

Now, here’s another long story:

About 8 years ago, my life became so busy that to stay on top of my studies and activities, I stopped watching a lot of YouTubers, including the Yogscast.

I’ve grown up throughout the years. I had to stop acting like a kid to figure out what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I’m still an artist today, but I haven’t drawn in this way for about 3 years to pursue my real passion. I love to draw, but I didn’t have the time or inspiration to make something grand.

About 3 months ago, I suddenly got curious about how all those YouTubers I stopped watching were doing, so I checked out their channels and watched a video or two before moving on. When I got to the Yogscast channel, on the other hand, I quickly fell in love with the new content and with everyone again.

It was insane to see how immediately my love for them came back. In 3 months, I’ve watched so many videos and streams/VODs. It’s all so comforting, funny, and uplifting. Clearly, I missed so much content in the past 8 years, but at least I don’t have to worry about running out of things to watch for a while.

What made me most happy was that despite changing a lot, I never stopped being that kid who laughed at the Yogscast’s shenanigans. It just goes to show that no matter how much the world tries to push you around, you never lose that sense of joy you had as a child.

Now, about Rythian:

Since I started watching the Yogscast in 2011, Rythian has always been my favorite. I loved his series so much, especially with how he got into character to give us an immersive experience. It was an escape for me as a kid. When difficult moments were thrown at me, I watched Rythian’s series to find a sense of comfort.

So when I started watching his and Zoey’s Blackrock series, my mind was blown. The storytelling, acting, humor, and drama of the series were so immersive and touching that my creativity exploded.

I mainly use art to express myself and my interests because I struggle to talk about it. But funny enough, Blackrock was the only interest of mine that got me to not draw, but to write. I wrote a lot of short stories about the series—even how I envisioned the series would end. I was so inspired to create all the time from this series.

And what’s crazy is that at the beginning of this summer, I found all of those written drafts and notes from when I was a kid. I kept them all for 10+ years and found a very loose (and not that good) draft of this comic and I felt really inspired to finish it.

It was roughly when I was first watching Blackrock too when I realized that I can be creative in the future. The Yogscast helped me understand that I can do whatever I want for the rest of my life. If they could do it, then why can’t I?

What’s also wonderful is that even after so many years, Rythian never stopped being my favorite. When I started watching the main channel again a few months ago, I immediately found myself rooting for him whenever he was in the group videos. I just remembered how much happiness he brought me when I was younger and it makes me so happy that I still get so much joy whenever I hear his voice.

While working on this comic, I watched all of Kirbycraft and caught up on Kirby Farm. I can’t help but smile the whole time Rythian, Briony, and Kirsty interact with one another. The dynamic of these three brings me so much laughter and comfort. A part of me is upset that I didn’t get back to watching everyone when Kirbycraft was still live, but better late than never, right?

I also originally started this comic without the intention of posting it. But then I figured, Hey, it’d be great to share it with everyone who’s also been impacted by this series and the Yogscast in general, so I made this blog to post it here. Honestly, I’m not sure when the next time I’ll be able to draw is (who knew building a career takes away a lot of your energy and time?). But I think that’s what’s so wonderful about my love for Yogscast and particularly Blackrock: I didn’t make this comic for the likes or views. It was just because I wanted to, and I’m so happy to see there are so many people on here who feel the same love for them as I do.

This series and the people who made it, along with the people who supported it and loved it and continued to love it, impacted me for the better. I learned so many years ago that I can be creative for a living, and have been working hard towards doing that since.

Happy 12th Anniversary to the Blackrock Chronicle. To Rythian and Zoey who put a smile on this kid’s face even during the toughest of times.

And to the Yogscast, thank you for being there for me when I needed you all the most and for still being here when I came back. Your ability to inspire me and make me laugh never disappeared throughout the years I was gone, and I’m ready to laugh some more.

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sizzlingchaosprince · 7 months

Text

The Toy's favorite Child

Notes: This is the first time I'm doing such thing so I'm really nervous XD I didn't know what to put into the background of the drawing so I didn't put any. Maybe I'll edit it soon. Do forgive me for my shading, I'm still learning(trying to)

Synopsis: After starting to live in PlayCare, one creature you became friends with grew a liking to you...

Warning: PLATONIC, headcanon + little story, reader is 12-14 years old, reader is a chill teenager

It's been a year since you got into the PlayCare, passing through the security with laid-back face and leaving the staff confused. They kept you because you seemed useful for them...

You were quite chilly and relaxed, reserved and smart. Also, because of your personality you were almost the same with Cat Nap from cartoons. Maybe that's why you became quick friends with Smiling Critters. With most of them, at least...

The big purple cat was almost never appearing like others from his party. And this interested you.

After a week or so you finally met him face-to-face. You were as calm as always, but your heart was pounding from excitement. You said 'hi' for politeness and introduced yourself, waiting for him to do the same.

Guess what? His face didn't even shift. He continued staring at you with his dead eyes.

After understanding that you won't get an answer from him, you tried to talk about something else.

But he disappeared in blink of an eye.

You were quite disappointed, but you still had the same urge to get to know the living toy better. You knew it'll be a long while...

It was worth 3 months to make him sit and listen to your rambling for 10 minutes. It was worth more months to make him spend at least an hour with you. It took even longer for him to let you stay near him and sleep, leaning onto the puppet. But it was worth the pleasure you get from his warmth and company.

Even though you never heard him talk, it's enough for you to be near him. It's good to talk about any nonsense which randomly comes to your mind and have a listener who won't judge you. It's also good to take a great nap in his fur or stay in complete silence, thinking of your own thing.

The staff, of course, sooner found out the relationship between you and the purple cat puppet.

They tried to use you to their own benefits and new information, but instead you composed some lies which sounded like truth to tell them(Cat Nap helped you a little sometimes, nodding or shaking his head if the lie sounds truthful or not).

When the scientists were starting thinking about taking you for the test next, Cat Nap started to monitor you to make sure you won't end up in the Game Station.

It definitely wasn't him who knocked out the staff members right behind your back. It definitely wasn't him who let out some scratching noises in Home-Sweet-Home. Also, of course, it definitely wasn't his sharp gaze you felt on your gut 24/7.

You liked to use the hair brush on the purple furball. It doesn't move away so you can say that he's at least neutral to your activity(we don't talk about his really quiet purring).

[Now. The small story]

It was a normal day like any other one. More specifically, night. However, this week was quiet strange: the staff members of Playtime Co. except the workers from the PlayCare appeared more often in front of you. When they started talking about 'test', they randomly passed out because of the red smoke. You knew it was one of the Smiling Critters you were hanging out with for a while, but you didn't know why was he doing it.

You were currently sitting with your back leaning against the living cat plush, brushing your companion's tail you gently patted with your free second hand. The only thing that bothered you in that peaceful time was the fact that the purple cat wasn't purring at all. It was staring at you with its dark eyes. Sooner after, you finally asked him about this:

— Is something wrong, Cat Nap?

It didn't answer. Instead, the living toy just stared at you with expressionless eyes, not moving an inch. You weren't intimidated by the stare at all, so you just continued brushing the long tail. You weren't hoping for an answer anyway, but still a small, almost impossible dream was remaining in your heart.

The silence was broken by the raspy, low voice coming out from Cat Nap's voice box.

— The Prototype... Will Save Us.

You flinched.

Wow...

This is the first time he ever said something to you. It was surely a progress for your friendship.

You stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before shifting your attention back to the tail. You shrugged with your shoulders, your face had a relaxed smile.

— I don't know who the Prototype is, but if they helped you somehow, I think they're my saviour too. You're like a home to me.. I can't even imagine what would it be like living without you here!

You chuckled, patting the fluffy tail while Cat Nap looked at you with the same stare. However, something in his eyes changed... Maybe his gaze gained a little more... softness?

He stared at you until you fell asleep on him again. A few minutes of him sinking into his thoughts have passed, the toy putted his head on his paws, wrapping his tail around you like a blanket and soon enough closing his eyes. You would call it the same night-time scenario with Cat Nap in the next morning, because you didn't know that he was comfortably purring, nuzzling himself into your warmth last night...

Notes: OH MY GOD I DID IT :D I'll maybe do part 2, but without promises

Anyways, thank you for wasting your time reading my first-ever-made English fanfic. Do write me some comments about my errors if you find any, I will appreciate it since it'll improve my writing skills.

Have a nice day/evening/night!😘

#poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime #poppy playtime 3 #cat nap #cat nap x reader #platonic #child!reader #fluff #own work #own drawing #first post

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elsa-fogen · 5 months

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what do you think about the fact that al likes doodling?

i have a head canon that he has some sort of scrapbook or sketchbook full of little doodles of things going on at the hotel and just in his life, I feel like he would draw really stick-figureish (is that a word?) but I read a fic that depicted it as the same art style as an Invader-Zim obsessed scene girl and I could not stop cackling.

I also feel like he would either guard it with his life from everyone (exception to Rosie, of course) or just not bother to tell anyone and one day they just find him doodling schoolgirl style, kicking his legs in the air, LMAO NEW THOUGHT WHAT IF CHARLIE OR LUCIFER FOUND IT

OH! OH! Now that you mentioned it - i LOVE that about him! I just absolutely ADORE little thing he made for the add in the first episode. And i love this fact because 1) he's the first character i like that likes to draw canonically (okay maybe also toothless from httyd?) 2) Me and Alastor share so many similarities, and even drawing???? This just makes me love him even more (i'm sure we would hate each other irl tho AHAHHAHAHA or maybe not, idk)

SO, SINCE ME AND AL ARE SO SIMILAR, I'M GONNA PROJECT ON HIM MY DRAWING HABITS >:3c Forgive me this one, i usualy don't do that, i usualy project characters on myself haha

He DOES have sketchbooks just to draw, and they are ORGANISED. He's numbers every sketchbook and counts every drawing in them since the first one. He also has two numbers for each page - through one sketchbook and through them all. He has over 300 of sketchbooks by now (I have less, only 56). They are stashed somewhere in a very safe place.

Every sketchbook has a date of first and last drawing. Also amount of drawings. It looks like: NOTEBOOK 253 (number of sketchbook, also he doesn't call them sketchbooks) 03.06.1978-05.07.1978 (dates while it was active) 119 (amount of drawings) 29961-30080 (which numbers of drawings are in this sketchbook) He would cound something else, but he's just too busy to spend time on it. He can remember something thinking about what he was drawing in that period and vice versa

He used to draw at overlords meetings, pissing off Carmila and everyone else, because it looked like he hadn't listened to them, so Carmila banned drawing at overlords meetings (Alastor is still angry about it)

But he doesn't progress too much - most of his progress was made through first 10-20 sketchbooks, now he only has slight style changes sometimes when he feels like it

Tho he's really proud of his current skill and used to think that he's literally the best (used to get angry when reminded that it's not true) (now he kinda knows, but still likes his own drawings, doesn't accept criticism and doesn't try to purposely improve)

He likes showing his drawings to people, he knows and if he does, you have to say that it's literally So Cool, show enthusiasm turning pages and say that everything is just amazing. If you don't, he'll be OFFENDED. He also can leave a sketchbook opened on a page with a drawing he likes the most, and it's like a sign "NOTICE THAT I'M DRAWING AND SAY THAT YOU LIKE IT"

If he considers you a friend (well not like Rosie, but at least like Charlie), he'll be showing you his drawings regularly (and you have to be enthusiastic about it!!!!!!) He has showed it to Charlie, but somehow her enthusiasm is... too much. She's too patronising about it. He also shows his things to Husk, he knows that Husk is annoyed and doesn't give a shit, and he just enjoys his annoyance. He also shows his drawings to Niffty and she gives him Just Right amount and vibe of enthusiasm. (He sometimes draws something for her fanfiction if he likes something enough and enjoys Niffty's reaction (she explodes from happiness)). BUT!!!!! He never shows anything to Mimzy. Because she's like, person from the real life, and he feels like she would laugh at it. To Rosie he shows only things he considers his best and her opinion is the most important to him. He can even forgive her criticism (wouldn't take it tho) (she never critisizes him and absolutely ADORES his drawings). Angel kinda likes his drawings, but isn't enthusiastic about them enough

He doesn't take requests (Angel tried "draw me like one of your french girls" shit, Alastor never did (also his ass did not get the reference and he was like "i dont??? have??? any french girls????")) (Vox also tried to make Alastor draw something for him, Alastor was just "that's interesting, i'll think about it" and never thought of it again)

SOME OF HIS DRWINGS TURNED OUT TO BE PROPHECIES but he notices that only when something happens and then he goes back to his old sketchbooks and accidentally finds it. They are just coincidenses tho, but it's fun and Alastor makes a big deal from it and screams to Rosie like "I PREDICTED THAT SHIT 27 YEARS AGO" when finds out. (it's how i predicted many plot points from SU and literally TOH hunter's possession before the show even was a thing JHJDFJHFGJFDHKH i wonder if i predicted something from Hazbin, i need to look through my sketchbooks now)

If you dare to mess with his drawings and vandalise them... oh... you better pray to whatever god you belive in to make your sufferings be enough to redeem your sins and go to heven.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #sudden ask lol #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #radiorose #platonic radiorose #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel text post

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the-bloody-sadist · 11 months

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in case no one else has asked, please list your top 10 BL manga/manwha? 👀

i am. very interested in what other media you enjoy, especially BL

Combining these two bc I didn't wanna leave the second out!

(I wasn't a big fan of Blood Bank personally but I'm so glad it helped you with your world building Lil Whale!!)

I'm hoping some of these are unheard of for you guys because THERE ARE SO MANY BL/YAOI AND I READ THEM CONSTANTLY BUT NOT SO MANY ARE FANTASTIC AND MIND-BLOWING AND SPECTACULAR AND DEEPLY PSYCHOLOGICAL! I'm pretty sure I'll end up listing WAY more than 10, mainly because I want to highlight ones I feel like a lot of people haven't read. ALSO because I read so fucking many of them that I've collected a stash and NOW IS MY CHANCE TO YELL ABOUT THEM.

Just a disclaimer, these are not in any sort of order, as they're all about the same level in my head, just grouped. I'll list the "big name" BLs that I adore after these! First up are the ones that either have a quiet fandom or aren't well known! Since there'll be so many, I'm not going to say much about them, just know that usually no BL/Yaoi is perfect to me, since there are many bad psychology tropes here and there or unnecessary cruelties that aren't exactly realistic etc., but overall, I like the way that the story and characters are handled and/or love the art.

Here's the top five of my top ten that's not a top ten bc there are so many (I just said I wouldn't group them but I lied my ass off apparently):

Jealousy [Scarlet Beriko]: This is one of those that emotionally hits so hard that it will stick with me forever and I will usually tear up just a tiny bit when I think back to the moments that made this one so beautiful. A lot of times a story with major hurt, angst, and tragedy won't wrap up with enough to make me scream and cheer at the end. But THIS ONE DID. And I stopped reading for a while when a big event happened because I thought it would end horribly and I'd have to suffer three weeks of fiction-induced depression for a man who wasn't even real. BUT NAY. The themes you get in this one revolve around loneliness (huge draw for me, it always hits), mafia-connected characters and the rivalries from that, self-destructive prostitution, and characters who have difficulty receiving love without freaking out. Are those even themes idk. OH WELL. YOU GET THE POINT. I want this one on my shelf. You might've heard of it, but the fandom is silent so I never did. T_T OH ALSO THE ART ON THIS ONE IS GORGEOUS I FUCKING LOVE IT.

Hitori to Hitori no 3650nichi [Hitomi]: First of all, favorite manga artist. FAVORITE MANGA ARTIST. I'm never exactly sure if the artist is also the writer or if the writer is never the artist or...BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER. Anyway! I listed this particular title because it was the first that I found by this person - but then I discovered it was a part of a bigger series, and there are like I DON'T KNOW FIVE DIFFERENT MANGA?? OR SOMETHING??? Related to this one. I don't know which order, I just know that I read them all in a frenzy. THE CHARACTERS. OH! OH THE CHARACTERS! Oh my gods, it's so good. LMFAO. The arcs these characters have are fantastic, and I loved the fact that the abuser in one is shown to be the victim of abuse in a prequel story, and that his anger issues and other elements of his personality came about to affect him and destroy him. Just...I don't recall the details, READ IT. That's all. Spectacular depictions of nuanced trauma within abusive relationships.

The Beast Must Die [Lee Hyeon Sook]: This remains one of my favorite depictions IN ANY MEDIA of a psychopath, because it's SO accurate and I'm SO fucking proud of the author for doing their research and OH MY GODS YOU GUYS IT'S ABOUT TO GET A DRAMA CD LET'S FUCKING GO! This story is so good. It's so evil. It's so psycho-thriller. It's so WELL DONE. It features a dark academia-ish secret society within a college setting who hunt people for sport, sometimes. LIKE. Come on. And the psychopath (dark hair) IS THE MAIN LOVE INTEREST! You could literally hear the summary and go "oh this is for Sadist". And I don't get a lot of those that deliver this well. SOMETIMES the art makes me twist my head a little but YOU KNOW WHAT I DO NOT CARE OKAY? It's just SO good. There's murder, there's kidnapping, and - most importantly - a main character who doesn't just DEAL with whatever the psychopath does. He's smart, he fights back, he learns to understand psychopathy to determine if he should remain with the love interest...it's fantastic. That's all. I will stop. *BANGS THE WALL*

Aporia [Seontae]: ALL HAIL THE HEALTHY BDSM RELATIONSHIPS THAT STILL HOLD TENSION AND EMOTIONAL WEIGHT AND SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!! This is my favorite BDSM-themed story. Everything is consensual, but is everything safe??? Not when it comes to the main character's emotions and tendency to sacrifice his wellbeing for a partner. BUT NOT TO WORRY, HIS SADISTIC LOVE INTEREST IS CONSIDERATE AND ATTENTIVE AND CARES ABOUT HIS FEELINGS!! This is, perhaps, one of my favorite depictions of a REAL sadist. A real one as in a realistic, irl BDSM-relationship sadist. Someone who is just as worried about taking care of his partner as he is about hurting him JUUUUST right. ANYWAY! THAT'S ALL! READ IT! HE'S LITERALLY ME!

Royal Servant [MasterGin, Chungnyun]: Okay, we were talking about healthy BDSM in the previous one, now let's talk about TOXIC BDSM-THEMES THAT I LOVE. Lmao. DO YOU LIKE MASTER/SLAVE DYNAMICS? DO YOU LIKE STORIES WHERE THE ARC LEADS TO THE ABUSIVE MASTER EVENTUALLY LEARNING TO NOT BE ABUSIVE AND LOVE THE SLAVE? YEAH ME TOO. I DON'T NEED TO DESCRIBE THIS ANY FURTHER. AUTHOR OF ANGEL BUDDY, THIS IS THE ONE THAT I KNEW HER FOR FIRST.

A bunch of other good ones you may or may not have heard of (I won't describe every one of these unless I have something particular to say, so enjoy the pictures from them that I snatched):

Love me in the Wilderness [Wang Tao]

Neon Sign Amber [Ogeretsu Tanaka]

Zetsubou ni Nake [Shinou Ryo]: Guys. This story is UNIQUE AS HELL. I had to say something about it. The premise is that a man who was raped turns around and goes back after his rapist and rapes him back, and then they fall in love. IT'S....the amount of times my jaw dropped was insane on this one. SOMEHOW IT'S WRITTEN SO WELL. SOMEHOW THEY NAILED THE STRANGE REALISM OF IT AND HAD ME TEARING UP OVER THE INTENSITY OF THE RAPE SCENES. VERY WELL-PACED, VERY TRAUMATIC IN A GOOD WAY. HIGHLY RECOMMEND. The way they come to love each other after this crazy foundation of mutual rape is IMPRESSIVE. Kudos to the writer.

Love or Hate [Yeongha]: This is a very well-known one but there's like zero fandom so I think it fits here. Also a lot of hate going around for it? Which I never understood, fuck those guys. This remains one of the most beautifully-written that I've ever read, and I mean that purely in like...the ACTUAL writing on the page. I'm talking poetry, purple prose. I just recall being blown away by that, and no manga before or since has ever reached its level. For once I felt like the writer was also a novelist because of the way that they put things, and had a clear voice in the style. Did the main boy end up with someone I didn't want him to end up with at the end? Yes. But I felt like it fit pretty well, and it was sort of a tragedy, and it was supposed to hit you painfully in the gut. A lot of people were mad at the main character for that and I don't really think it's fair. In any case! A beautiful story with complex characters and intriguing dilemmas. Highly recommend it.

Shangri La no Tori (Birds of Shangri La) [Ranmaru Zariya]

Two in Six Billion [Denzou]

The Pizza Delivery Man and The Gold Palace [Upi]: Great story and character-building so far! I will say that once it became porn, it dove a little too heavily into it for me. Like I only needed one scene of the porn, I was enjoying the panic attack scenes much more. BUT YEAH, IT'S ONGOING, SO WE'LL SEE WHERE IT GOES! But the panic attack scenes were the reason I read it and yes, I did tear up.

Sleeping Dead and Living Dead [Asada Nemui]: I RECENTLY FOUND THIS ONE AND ADOOOOOOREEE IT SO MUCH. I DO NOT CARE THAT IT'S AN OLD SCIENTIST AND HIS ZOMBIE PATIENT. NORMALLY THAT WOULD HOLD NO SWAY OVER ME, BUT OH GODS, THE ART IS SO PRETTY AND THE STORY IS SO GOOD. I LOVE THE LITTLE ZOMBIE MAN! I LOVE THE LITTLE ROMANCE THEY'VE GOT!

Private Lessons [ANCO, Mongya]: It's cuuuuute what can I saayyyyy it has BDSM and threesomes and I liked it. Very entertaining. Scratches the BDSM itch and the little SUB WAS SO CUTE. Anyway.

Kingyo no Ubugoe [Gontaku Nido]

From Points of Three [White Eared]: Threesome dynamics!!

Silent Lover [Qiang Tang, Bai Li Jun Xi]: I STOPPED THIS ONE AT A CERTAIN POINT BECAUSE IT DIPPED INTO WEIRD M-PREG AND STUFF I CANNOT READ. But BEFORE all that, I was deeply ingrained in this one. It has a main character who can't speak (a particular weakness of mine) and he's OH SO CUTE and he's given as a sex slave basically to the emperor (emperor? idk he's a kingly man, something like that), and the emperor is evil but learns to be soft and yet it takes a LONG TIME SO I WAS BAWLING HYSTERICALLY OVER SOME OF THE HEARTWRENCHINGLY PAINFUL SCENES IN THIS FOR THE POOR YUU-ER. A good read until it decided to go the omegaverse-by-magic-potions route. I didn't stay to figure out where it actually ended up.

Yoru wa Tomodachi [Ido Gihou]

Toumei na Ai no Utsuwa [Hitomi]

Re:Birth [Misuaki Asou]: The singular omegaverse story in existence that I actually liked. Hopefully that says a lot. Mostly because it's about the omegaverse elements NOT being present for the main character and him trying to fake it because he's lonely and afraid that his partner (an alpha *shakes off the disgusting label because who the fuck thought alpha was a cool word*) will leave him if he finds out he's just a regular guy (aka beta I guess? ABO is weird idc).

Sahara no Kuro Washi [Soutome Emu]: MASTER SLAVE MASTER SLAVE---

Haru ni Kaeru [Kunieda Saika]

Incorrigible [Bbong]

Well Done! [ANCO, Mongya]

Nemuri Otoko to Koi Otoko [Zariya Ranmaru]

Even If You Don't Love Me [Pando]: It dropped off SUPER hard (it's ongoing still) but damn was it good in the beginning. I am sick and tired of where it's at currently but the psychological manipulation and the horror of a certain twist in the storyline was CRUSHING to me. I only wish that it would have gone a better way after it happened, because it slowly destroyed itself and became like a lot of tropey rape stories. The asshole just keeps being an asshole and it's not really where the story seemed to want to go with that. But otherwise, it started off strong and I'll give it kudos for that.

Bigger titles I'm pretty sure everyone has heard of that I enjoy:

Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai [Yoneda Kou]: Is it a little unrealistic that literally everyone in this story is gay apparently and wants to fuck one man apparently and/or rape him? Yes, absolutely. Does that matter once you're in the story and it's so good and all these unrealistic cruelties make a really strong bond between the main love interest and this self-destructive masochist who's probably not really a masochist but only interested in hurting himself because he doesn't know how else to handle his trauma from childhood? Ummmm yeah. Anyway! This one had a lot of inspiration and a lot of tears and a lot of obsession from me. I re-read it all the time, I watch the movie over and over, I listen to the audio drama and cry at my favorite scenes. Do I care in the end that it's a little unrealistic at times? No but I do laugh sometimes when I'm about to share it with a new person. Because BL is just like that generally and you've got to put up with a little of those tropes to find your favorite stories. THIS IS ONE OF THE TOP FAVORITES OF ALL TIME FOR ME BTW, IT'S ONLY SO LOW DOWN HERE BECAUSE PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE IN YAOI KNOWS ABOUT THIS ONE ALREADY, AND WE'RE ALL AWARE OF HOW GOOD IT IS.

ENNEAD [Mojito]: I will say that this is basically the best manga/comic/manhua...what's the Chinese word idk ANYTHING OF THIS MEDIA TYPE that I have ever read. It's not done, and people have been complaining that it's starting to fall into the common BL tropes but you know what I do NOT care. Mojito is a genius, Mojito is a master storyteller, Mojito is beautiful, Mojito is strong - I just love Mojito and this work. So much. The action, the horror of rape, the deep-set character conflicts and dilemmas and internal turmoils. Everything, nailed it. Nailed it. And not to mention it's set in FUCKING EGYPTIAN MYTHOLOGY AND THEY'RE ALL GODS AND THEY HAVE SUCH COOL BATTLES AND COSTUMES AND DUDE???? I'm so hooked. That's all.

Killing Stalking [Koogi]: OBVIOUSLY. I don't really need to say anything about this one except that yeah, some of the psychology is a little off and some of it is just super shallow. But I loved the characters and that's what mattered in the end. I fell in love with Sangwoo too and it ripped my heart out when I read the ending. I was depressed for like two weeks and it was the first story that had ever affected me that way, but I was also younger and this was one of my first yaoi/BLs and yeah. GREAT story though, fantastic storytelling, very lovable characters. Sangwoo was handled so much better than most "asshole/kidnapper/rapist" characters and I will never stop appreciating that, because a lot of writers tend to forget that your villains have to have redeeming qualities if you want us to like them (????). Jinx, I'm fucking coming for you. Suck my dick. KOOGI FTW.

Missing Love/A Married Man [In Hyerin]: Some of the DESCRIPTIONS of how trauma works especially of the sexual nature in this story are SO. SO. GOOD. However, I am beginning to grow VERY ANNOYED at where it decided to go with the most current updates of the story. The author did enough trauma to the main boy, now it's getting so incredibly excessive that it's overdoing it and the author's kinks are showing through. LIKE I GET IT. Okay? I do. But this one became too much and I need him to return to the actual story arc of going through that trauma so he can HEAL with the right person taking care of him.

MadK [Ryo Sumiyoshi]: I am into NONE of the kinks that would lead to me picking up this manga. I hate demons, I'm not a monsterfucker, I can't do extreme guro, and yet I SAW CANNIBALISM. THAT WAS THE ONE THING THAT I THOUGHT I'D GIVE IT A TRY FOR. And then accidentally I got obsessed because the plot is AMAZING and the writing is SO GOOD and who cares if I hate demons and monsters ALL OF THEM ARE BADASS AND HOT (??) AND IT CEASES TO MATTER. Good on the writer for making them appeal by personality alone and expressions and whatever else you signed a deal with the devil to make me like because it worked. Also the guro is beautiful, so it doesn't even matter. Hannibal levels.

Warehouse [Killerwhale]

Painter of the Night [Byeonduck]

Viewfinder/Finder [Yamane Ayano]

Given [Kizu Natsuki, Gusari]

Nii-Chan [Harada] (and basically every other work by Harada)

Sadistic Beauty Side Story [Geumsan Lee, Woo Yeonhui]

Dine With a Vampire [Pangin, Pinko]

Angel Buddy [Mastergin, Chungnyun]

My Partner's Tastes and Fetishes [Deok Hwa]

Interview with a Murderer [KJK]

On or Off [A1]

Steel Under Silk [Snob]

The Pawn's Revenge [Evy]: It was going to be SO GOOD! And then it dropped off harder than a boulder from a balcony and I have absolutely no idea why the author took it the way that they took it, but go off I guess. It's boring as hell now but it started off with promise and I enjoyed the art and character designs. Too bad, I suppose.

Caste Heaven [Ogawa Chise]: An old classic with all the sticky sometimes icky mostly ridiculous BL tropes but hey, it's cute. It's sexy. It's fun. I don't care.

Wet Sand [Doyak]: We're still in the beginning stage of this one but I'm excited to see where it goes! Plus the art SLAPS ASS like nobody's business.

19 Days [Old Xian]: I hate comedy, I hate fluff, I hate buddies that never become lovers, but none of that mattered when I picked this one up. The duality of man. Bite-sized chapters and ACTUALLY AN EVENTUAL ROMANCE that none of us thought we'd ever get.

Legs That Won't Walk [Black Apricot]: Although this one dropped off hard for me and I'm really just following it to see if it picks up again and does something interesting (it probably won't) I did enjoy it in the beginning. I just get tired of the "asshole just keeps being an asshole and nothing else but woobified slut keeps coming back to him??" without the strong and realistic undercurrent of Reasons Why Someone Would Come Back such as manipulation or threats or unhealthy attachment. Perhaps it was sorta there in the beginning with them but now I'm just like why are we still continuing this story.

Pearl Boy [Inking, Zoy]: *Awkwardly scratches neck* It's not the best okay? It's not. It's really not. I don't like half of the things that occur in this one, but the ART, bro. THE ART, BRO? That's what got me into it and what kept me into it, PLUS I do like little Jooha. I stayed for Jooha, too. Dooshik drives me a little batty most of the time and looks ugly for half the story to me, but when he's badass, he's pretty badass, so I can forgive him. I really don't know why he has such drastically changing appearances because I thought he was someone completely different for a bit LMAO. In any case, I have to admit I like the uhhhhh danger that Jooha gets himself into and the crazy things that make no sense but you know what he gets hurt and then there's comfort and rescue and they cry and I cease to care that it makes no sense. (Sorta, I don't actually cease to care I just laugh awkwardly and go okay sure that's how it works because it's so hard to find stories that don't do this LOL I'm beating a dead horse) BUT WHY DOES HE CUM PEARLS? WILL WE EVER KNOW? WHO THE HELL THOUGHT OF THAT AND WITHOUT A SUPPORTING MAGIC SYSTEM IN THE WORLD TO MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE? IT WENT DOWNHILL SO FAST AND THE ENDING IS TERRIBLE BTW. THE VILLAIN SUCKS.

That's it. I can't talk to much or I'll run out of words but HOPE YOU GUYS FIND SOME NEW READS!!

#why does Tumblr only allow a certain amount of images #what a crime #bl recommendation #yaoi manga #yaoi recommendation #bl manga #top ten #my favorites #my recs #yaoi #sadist’s answered asks #whump #fujoshi #yaoi bl #saezuru tori wa habatakanai #scarlet beriko #harada #killing stalking

510 notes · View notes

itsbeeble · 10 months

Note

I saw your post about having Bang Chan brain rot and honestly, same. He has filled every waking thought I've had for the last year and I'm big mad over it.

So my fic rec is a little angsty/suggestive with him being as obsessed with y/n as we all are with him. Like, he's angry that he can't focus on work because he's too busy thinking about them but can't have them for whatever reason. All the features he possesses that we love that he can't see in himself are exactly what draws him to y/n. (I feel like crushing on Chan is an exercise in learning to love yourself, and that's a lesson he needs to learn as well).

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME I LITERALLY FELL TO THE FLOOR WHEN I FIRST SAW IT (that first statement is so real actually)

OBSESSIVE

Summary: Chan has always been obsessed with you, but he's been too afraid to act on it until now.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x (implied)fem!reader

Warnings: a little angsty but mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, some uhhh sexual themes but there's no actual smut or anything, small make out scene teehee, swearing, insecurities briefly mentioned, I think that's it

WC: 2462

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

A/N: guys look it didn't take me 10 years to post! Also i'm gonna add to my masterlist a "Brainrot" section bc i'm not officially gonna write for certain groups but fuck do i get brainrot

Chan is restless in his studio, staring at the walls in front of him unable to focus. He can’t get his brain to work, to think, to do something.

It’s your fault. He knows it’s your fault, but he can’t figure out why. Had you said something to him? Had you done something?

No. The answer is no, you hadn’t done anything to him. At least not technically.

In fact, it’s more him that's the problem.

It’s almost unhealthy the way he’s obsessed with you. Unhealthy and almost annoying considering that you hardly ever give him the light of day.

Chan adores you. Adores the way you don’t care about what anyone else thinks of you, the way you laugh too loudly, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, and the way you can hold conversations so easily. He adores the way you never seem to care about looking put together, dressing in whatever you find comfortable that day, and somehow still looking beautiful.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about anyone before. He hates the swirling in his stomach, the way his heart beats faster, and the way he can always tell when you’re close to him whether you want him to know or not. Chan can always tell from the smell of your perfume, that sweet, subtle scent you’ve worn since the day you met him in your days as trainees.

These emotions…he shouldn’t be feeling them. Not about you, his best friend. His confidant. The one person he can trust to always be there for him, for everything. He’s tried so hard to will these emotions away, to force himself to like other people. He’s tried hookups, blind dates, dating apps. He’s tried imagining it was his grandmother instead of you whenever his thoughts dive into dangerous territory.

And no, the grandmother thoughts didn’t work. His thoughts kept returning to you, how you would look under him. How you would look with your hair splayed out, your hand cupping his cheeks, and your lips sending him the sweet smile that you seem to reserve for him.

Fuck, he’s doing it again.

Chan takes a deep breath, sipping at the day-old water and grimacing at the stale taste in his mouth. His computer screen is still blank, the screen off from the time he’s spent staring into space and thinking of you.

A knock on the door and then you’re slipping in quietly with a plastic go-cup filled with iced coffee.

“Hey.”

Your greeting is simple, but you flash that smile and Chan’s heart starts doing flips. He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way, hates that he gets nervous whenever you’re around.

He feels you at his side, your arm on the back of his chair, fingertips brushing against his shoulder and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He turns his head, angling his neck to look up at you.

You with your calm eyes, with your gentle brushes against his skin, and the way you somehow soothe the storm that you caused inside of him.

The cup in your hand is angled toward him, and he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t be drinking that, you know,” it’s almost instinctive how he scolds you, a frown on his face when you just roll your eyes and pull the cup away from him. “Especially right now. You should be asleep, Y/N.”

“So should you,” you hum, rolling your shoulders back and wincing when something cracks.

“I’m working.” He nods his head at the computer, and you raise an eyebrow at the black screen.

“I can see that. Working very hard, just like you always are.”

Your hand raises to his head, ruffling the soft strands of hair. Chan clicks his tongue and pulls away from you. Your hand drops down to your side, and your small drops slightly. Barely noticeable, but enough for Chan to feel a pang in his chest. He rolls his chair back slightly, spinning it to face you. You pull a chair up, sitting directly across from him, and delicately place your coffee in an empty space on his crowded desk.

Chan feels your knees brush against his, and heat scorches his body again. Why do you do this to him? Is it on purpose? Do you know he loves you more than a best friend should?

“Are you okay, Channie?” You lean toward him, the open part of your button-down shirt dipping to expose more skin. You would think he’s never been around a woman before.

He clears his throat, tries to look at you, and then clears his throat again. You’re biting at your lip now your eyebrows furrowed together in thought.

He leans away from you when you lean toward him. Your knees are between his thighs now, unbeknownst to you but he is all too aware of it. You rise from your chair, coming closer to him and standing between his legs. One of his hands twitches, fighting to raise just a little bit to touch the side of your leg.

“You seem a little feverish,” your hand is cold against his skin, and he almost chokes on the air he’d been struggling to inhale without the sweet scent of you overpowering his lungs and making him do unthinkable things. Your lips are twisted into a pout, your hand moving to his forehead and then his cheek.

It takes Chan a moment to realize that he’s grabbed your wrist.

It takes another moment for him to realize that his lips are against the back of your hand.

Another moment and you haven’t pushed him away. Is it shock? Are you too disgusted to do anything? Fuck, why did he have to do that?

“Y/N—” he’s stumbling over his words, trying to grasp any thought that runs through his brain. An apology, hopefully. “I’m so— I didn’t mean—”

Your lips are on his before he can say another word. It was a quick, fleeting kiss. Heat of the moment, maybe.

You pull back, just far enough to look him in the eyes.

Chan opens his mouth, ready to speak again.

The door slams shut. The space you stood in is empty. Chan’s heart sinks to his stomach, his skin still warm where you touched him.

“Fuck”

It’s three days before Chan hears from or sees you. Three days of absolute radio silence. No one forcing him to stop working, to look away from the screen and lay on the couch for a while. No wild laughter, random coffee dates. Nothing, and he knows why.

He knows you’ve been avoiding him. It’s not that difficult to figure it out. Whatever happened that night…it scared both of you. What frustrates him isn’t the subtle rejection. No, he could never be mad at you for that. He loves you too much to be angry about that.

No, he’s mad about the fact that you’re running from this. You who regularly gets into heated arguments with the staff when they’re working him and the other members too hard. You who always accepts when you’re in the wrong, actively seeking a solution. You who has never had problems with communicating your emotions. He’s angry that the one time he needs you to communicate with him, you disappear. Now, after three days of you avoiding him, he isn’t quite sure he wants to see you anymore. He wouldn’t have minded if you told him you hated him for what happened.

Radio silence is…quite possibly the last thing he expected.

A knock on his door jolts him out of his thoughts. Three raps, then two, and the door opens. He knows it’s you by the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the sound of ice against plastic. You come to stand near him. Not next to him, no, it’s like you can sense the anger in him.

Or you can hear the angry typing.

“What are you working on?” Your voice is quiet, so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it.

He doesn’t respond, at least not at first. The typing doesn’t slow, and he hears a small exhale from you.

“Chan?” Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and the typing stops. You drop your hand to your side, biting your tongue and forcing the tears back. “Channie, can you please talk to me?” He turns to look at you, trying to hold back all of the emotions he’s been feeling these past three days.

“About what?” He plays dumb. Maybe if he acts like nothing happened, you’ll just drop it and you can start avoiding each other and he can move on from you.

“About…about what happened.” Your voice shakes, and he almost feels bad.

Scratch that, he does feel bad.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Chan dismisses, “You made it clear how you feel and that’s fine. We can forget about it.” He avoids your gaze now, but he hears a sniffle coming from you. Hears a sob that you made a poor attempt at concealing. He looks at you again, and your hand is over your mouth while you try to calm yourself. He bites the side of his tongue, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily.

“Come here,” he raises his hand and lazily beckons you over to him. You don’t move at first, still focused on calming yourself. “Y/N, come here.”

Your steps are slow, almost nervous about approaching him, and suddenly all the anger is washed away from Chan’s body. All he can think about is the fact that he’s made you cry, made you upset, and he wants to fix it.

“Why are you crying, pretty?” You’re standing in front of him, all too similarly to three days ago. Your cup has been placed to the side again, next to his keyboard, and your hands are in his.

“I feel like…” your voice is thick with emotion, tears rolling down your cheeks that Chan wants nothing more than to kiss away. “I feel like I messed everything up.”

“How could you possibly think that?” Your best friend frowns.

“I— I kissed you.” Your sentences are stuttered. “I fe—feel like I me—messed everyth—everything up. You— You’re my bes—best friend, Channie.”

“Look at me,” he holds his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look down at him. “You did nothing wrong. In case you forgot, I kissed you first.”

“But that was diffe—different!” You cry, yanking your hands out of his grip and turning your back on him. Chan rises from his chair, carefully watching your movements. “I kissed you!”

He’s curious now. “Do you think I hate you because of that?”

You turn around, and a gasp escapes you. He’s only a few inches from you, his breath kissing your cheeks. You can see a dark tinge on his tanned skin. Was he blushing? Was he mad?

“I— I mean—” Chan steps toward you again, practically backing you into the wall.

“Because you’d be wrong,” he continues. “In fact, it’s probably made me even worse.”

What? “Chan— what does that—”

“I’ve been obsessed with you from the day that I met you, Y/N.” Here goes nothing. Chan takes a deep breath before continuing. “Everything you do, everything you say. I’m addicted to you. You know, I couldn’t tell at first if I envied you. It was the way you carried yourself, the confidence you had in every little thing. The way you fought so hard for the things that you loved and the people you cared about. I thought I envied the way you could laugh as loud as you wanted without fearing what other people thought of you.”

You’re against the wall now, but he hasn’t caged you in. No, he leaves you room to escape should you so choose. Your tears have stopped and Chan reaches up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the streaks that were left.

“I was wrong.” His voice is so quiet, so much quieter than he probably intended it to be, but it has a zoo erupting in your stomach. “It wasn’t envy.”

“Then what was it?” Your voice matches his in volume, your eyes flicking from his lips and back up to meet his gaze. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of your cold hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt, your knuckles brushing against the skin of his stomach. “Channie?”

The way you said his name should’ve been innocent. It should have just grabbed his attention, snapped him out of the spell you’ve cast on him.

The air is knocked out of your chest at the first touch of his lips on yours. It isn’t rough, not by any means.

His lips move smoothly against yours, slow and sure of every move he wants to make as if he’s always going to be two steps ahead of you. One of his hands slides down to cup the back of your head, right at the base to allow him to angle your head and pull your body closer to his. Your hands have tightened into his cotton t-shirt, holding so tightly you’re positive the fabric has stretched.

Your chest is on fire, whether from lack of breath or the emotions running through you like wildfire, you aren’t sure, but you don’t want to stop. You can’t stop. Not when he tastes so good, not when he’s kissing you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing.

A whine escapes you, and you feel his body go rigid. His lips stop moving, and he pulls back from you. You see his chest stuttering as he tries to stop himself from taking deep breaths. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you for a long time.

You don’t have to, though. The drawings he traces into your hip with his finger and the hazy, starstruck look in his eye says enough.

His eyes meet yours when you clear your throat to get his attention.

“So,” your voice is slightly hoarse but you can’t find yourself caring. Not in front of Chan. “You never answered my question.” He bends down, his lips lightly pressing into the skin of your neck. Your breathing hitches, and you feel him smile against you.

“What question was that?” He asks, and his voice is right in your ear, and you can’t help but pull him closer to you.

“What was it that you felt?”

He just laughs against you, finally taking his hand out of your hair.

“You know what it was, pretty. Don’t pretend.”

You smile, your arm coming to wrap around the back of his neck.

Love. It was love, and you knew it the whole time.

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fairycheol · 1 year

Text

enhypen as boyfriends

이희승

Heeseung is the type of boyfriend who likes to playfully flirt with you in public just to get a reaction out of you. It’s a habit he’s had since before you started dating.

But with his teasing comes his never ending urge to protect and take care of you, doesn’t matter if it’s pulling you to the inside of a sidewalk, tying your shoes for you, and making sure you are eating regularly.

And trust if he finds out you’ve skipped a meal, he’s sitting you down and personally hand feeding you everything.

Arguments between you two rarely occur and when they do happen it’s usually over something small, like forgetting to text him good morning or give him a kiss goodbye.

This man is so dramatic he once ignored you for an entire week because you mistook one of Jake’s hoodies as his (｡-_-｡)

All in all he just wants you to be happy with him, and he’s willing to do pretty much anything to make sure you feel that way.

박종성

Jay I think is more of a silent lover. He’s not screaming “I love you!” in your face 24/7 like some of the other members, but that doesn’t necessarily mean his love for you is any less.

He prefers showing his love for you by putting his black card to use no matter how much it may annoy you. Jay’s rich tho, so he has no problem dropping 1k dollars for you when he wants.

And while the expensive bouquet of flowers and fancy restaurant dates are nice, Jay also knows how to plan a more relaxed dinner date.

He’ll put his cooking skills to use and make a cute little picnic just for you, complete with activities like painting or stargazing.

You also didn’t hear this from me but, Jay is an extreme cuddlier. I’m talking straight up will put you in a chokehold just to keep you from getting up and leaving him in the freezing cold.

Kind of want my own silent lover Jay now ☹️

심재윤

Oh lord where do i even begin with Jake.

I guess i’ll start off by saying that he loves showing you off. I’m talking will go up to random strangers in a 7/11 to say things like,

“this is my girlfriend? isnt she so pretty?” and then he proceeds to get upset if the person agrees or says nothing at all like okay 💀

Then you have to yell at him for drawing to much attention to you when you have on disney pajama pants and the first sweater you could find from off your dirty floor, but he still insists you look great.

Apart from that he’s not afraid of being affectionate in public, he’ll hug you, hold your hand, and kiss you at any given moment. He still knows when to keep a respectable amount of distance between you two, especially if you begin to show signs of discomfort.

This man would be so in love it’s actually sickening, he stares at you like you made the universe. (cue Niki dramatically gagging in the background)

박성훈

The two of you are either polar opposite’s or the exact same in terms of personality but otherwise, star-crossed lovers. That’s exactly what you guys are.

Sunghoon I think is a perfect combination of what Jay and Jake are as boyfriends. He’s quiet but can get really loud with his affection whenever he wants.

Café dates are a must. He enjoys the peacefulness of sitting together drinking coffee and talking about how you’re both feeling.

I get the feeling his favorite form of physical affection is hugging you, getting to feel the warmth from your body and the way you nuzzle into his neck makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

He’ll never admit this to you but he loves being woken up with kisses onto the moles that decorate his pale skin. He’s faked being asleep at least 10 times just to get some kisses and bask in the warmth of it all.

김선우

Sunoo is probably the most energetic lover out of all the enhypen members. Nothing and i mean absolutely nothing can stop him from letting it be known just how happy he is to have you in his life.

He loves any and all kinds of dates, baking dates? loves it. stay at home dates? he’s got snacks ready. fancy dates? oh he’s going ALL OUT.

Taking pictures of the two of you is another favorite of his. His camera roll is 90% just you. He tears up a little when he has to make room for camera storage cause he wants to cherish your memories together on his phone.

I think he’s also very big on keeping you well fed. He’s always making trips to the store and buying your favorite snacks so you never run out.

Physical affection is another big thing for him, he wants you to feel his love not just through his words and actions but quite literally through his body too.

He’s a perfect boyfriend.

양정원

Jungwon, Jungwon, Jungwon, our lovely leader is def a shy lover. He’s quiet but his actions speak a lot louder than words.

He basks in the warmth of your love and affection. He’s exactly like a cat, YOU kind of have to do all the work but it’s honestly not as bad as it sounds.

He lives for dates in the park, getting to walk around and find a good place to set up your picnic makes him very happy for some reason.

And trust me when i say he has fallen asleep on your lap a good number of times, but he can’t help it! he just gets all warm and happy around you.

I do think because of his leader instincts he’s very protective of you. One time you scraped your knee at the park and my guy was running around almost in tears ready to fight the pebble you tripped on.

He eventually calmed down enough to get some bandaids from a near by store and fix you up. He insisted on carrying you all the way home and was some how successful on doing so.

西村力

He’s your concert/trip buddy. You two will go anywhere and everywhere together it kind of annoys the members but hey, young love.

He once spotted you at one of their tour stops in the U.S. and he almost lost his mind. Fans got suspicious as to why he began to pay so much attention to the section you were sitting in.

Niki likes to facetime you at random parts of the day just to annoy you, jkjk he does it cause he wants to talk with you. Being around the hyungs for so long makes him miss you and feel lonely but he’ll never admit that.

He more often then not will sneak you into the practice room to show off his dancing and will ask for your opinion afterwards.

It’s mandatory that you give him a kiss everytime he does something good or else he gets upset 😠

All in all he’s just happy to have someone to call his home away from home.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours

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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months

Note

*stumbles breathless through your door*

I SAW YOU'RE ASKING FOR STORY REQUESTS!!

*fixes the Caps button*

Sowwy!!

Anyway!!

Please can I ask for:

1. Lord of the Rings

2. Bathing (innocent)

3. Thranduil

4. I leave free hand to you. Just some nice relaxing bath with his love (can he his new queen or soon to be) some pampering with hair and skin care, something along those lines. Fem!elf!reader if I may ask that!

xoxo Firelight

That entrance into my ask box is a solid 10/10. No notes. Just perfect.

Technically, I’m not taking story requests, but I am taking headcanon requests for all the fandoms I write for. So, this will fall into the “what are Thranduil’s bathing habits” realm. So like, what he does alone and with a partner. But it’s obviously on the innocent/fluffy/romantic side of things.

Personally, I’m all about a soft Thranduil who knows how to pamper himself and his partner. I've kept this one on the gender neutral side.

Word Count: 585

1k Follower Event Rules

ao3 // taglist // 1k follower event masterlist // main masterlist

Thranduil’s bathing habits when he’s alone:

A bath is Thranduil’s reset. There is no one that attends him during this time. It’s a chance for him to slow down and to let go of the pressures of the day. When I mean that no one attends him, I mean no one. It is he that fills the tub with water. Not one of his subjects. Thranduil uses that time to disconnect and to think only of the task at hand. He is always making choices, giving orders, and overseeing the wellbeing of all. Filling the bath is a moment of peace. There are no responsibilities here.

Thranduil soaks before he scrubs or washes his hair. He will close his eyes, tip his head back, and rest. This could take a few minutes or even ten before he opens his eyes again and begins the process of lathering up some soap.

Thranduil washes his body first before his hair. The soaps and scrubs he uses are always made from ingredients that are found within the Woodland Realm. He is resourceful in that regard. That same goes for his hair. Anything and everything are sourced from the forest, if possible.

Thranduil reads in the bath (if it’s just him).

Usually doesn’t eat but might have a snack. There will always be wine. That’s nonnegotiable.

Doesn’t remove himself from the tub until the water has gone cold. He likes to stay in as long as possible.

Loves a warm towel afterward.

Thranduil’s bathing habits when he’s with a partner:

Similar to how he draws the bath from himself, Thranduil will do the same for his partner. It’s an act of service, but also a way he shows affection. He wants to do it, and he always makes sure to have it done before they can arrive to bathe themselves. He might seek help from an attendant to prepare other items like candles or fetching wine and food, but Thranduil likes to do most of it himself.

Because of who he is and all the things he must do in a day, a bath is his time to reconnect with his partner. During this time, they are alone, and are unlikely to be interrupted. Truly, this is the only time for Thranduil to spend time with his partner since most of his day is spent taking care of his people.

Whoever Thranduil is with, they are not to lift a finger. This is about them, not him, and he goes to great lengths to make that happen. His favorite thing to do is recline in the tub with his partner leaning against him. This way, Thanduil can cuddle them but also take care of them. It’s the best position to wash their body and their hair.

He is prone to gentle touches, almost an absent-minded sort of motion. He does it without having to think about it. Skin against skin is usually what he needs and not in the physical sense of need. Connection is more important here.

Thranduil enjoys conversation but it is not a requirement. Sometimes just being in each other’s presence is enough.

Thranduil will not allow his partner to do anything for themselves while in the bath. Won’t get angry about it but he might have a twinge of attitude if they keep resisting. Thranduil just wants to take care of them.

Will make sure his partner removes themselves from the bath before they grow cold.

Thranduil will insist on drying them himself.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot

@firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath @therealbloom @ninman82

@thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos

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leidensygdom · 7 months

Text

AI bros from hell

Hello! Do you have a bit of your time for a story on AI bros and clients from hell? I bring a really fun one!

I met this guy at a con I was tabling at over a year ago, before AI was a thing. He said he enjoyed my art, and inquired me about whether I did book illustrations. I said yes- He was specifically interested in my bigger pieces, the fully rendered and detailed ones. He agreed to send me later a DM to discuss specifics.

For two weeks, he kept DMing me on details about his book, what he wanted, etc. He wanted full illustrations for inside the book as well as a cover, all of them fully colored, painted and rendered. He also wanted illustrations in this style to post on social media to promote the book. I had warned him that something like that would be costly, but he insisted that he needed this to be the best of the best.

Now, I was getting bad vibes from the guy. I shit y'all not, his instagram handle was "The next tolkien". I wasn't however gonna refuse a job opportunity. Now, he finally asked for prices: He had reassured me he was willing to pay fairly for this. Since he's a starting author, I gave him my non-commercial quotes, which are much, much, much lower than the standard for book illustrations. I mean "if you search for how much this costs on google, the lower prices are x5 times more expensive than what I offered".

The guy, upon receiving that, just ghosted me. Immediately unfollowed, didn't reply me with a "sorry, I can't afford it" or "sorry, i was expecting to pay $10 for a full rendered full background several-characters-picture". Nothing.

The other day I decided to search what he was up to. He's now released... THREE books for this series. There's a single review in the first one. Not even written, just a stars one. Also, notably, he had a webpage put together promoting the book, and. Yeah.

All the art is AI crap.

Which makes sense. My guy was very on his high horse about how fantastic of a writer he is, but I guess art isn't really to be compensated fairly. When he saw the "art stealing machine you just pay a subscription for", I'm guessing he was very excited.

So, uh, here's some of the marvelous pictures he generated of the characters, which surely tell you about how great the book is. AI is theft, so I don't give a f*** about reposting it.

I have a lot of opinions about creators who write, draw or make music, who are more than happy to use AI for other stuff- Album covers made with AI, writers using AI crap for book illustrations, artists using AI-made music. It feels like you're sh*tting in any other artistic field and showing how little you respect anyone but yourself. Like, I'll be honest, I don't have interest reading a book from someone who considers that other forms of art aren't real or worth any money. It just tells me you're devoid of any interest for art or humanity.

As an ending note, his instagram description is "More closer to god than to human", which does add to the clownery.

#anti ai #clients from hell #long story #long post #ai bros

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lild00td00t · 1 year

Text

Straw Hats with a Shy! S/O

Part 1

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ussop

I love shy, quiet people, they are my jam !! Part 2 will be up when it’s finished, and will include: Robin, Nami, Franky and Brook! Enjoy ! ~

Luffy

• Will definitely be your voice if you need it, he loves talking enough for the both you so things work out favorably with Luffy.

• If anyone ever asks why you’re so quiet or don’t talk to them he gets defensive on your part, asking why they’re bothering you in the first place

• If he ever senses you’re uncomfortable he’ll draw attention to himself to get eyes off you

• When he does, it’s in the most asinine way possible

• “ YOU GUYS WANNA SEE IF I CAN EAT THIS WHILE ITS STILL ON FIRE “

• Hypes you up to do stuff, say you’re making a call or you ordered on your own, he’ll pat you on the back and be like “ yeah that was awesome ! “

• So sweet, but he can definitely be overwhelming with how boisterous and out going he is, sometimes he might push alittle too much to get his S/O out of their comfort zone

• Id give him a 7/10

Zoro

• Probably loves how quiet you are, especially when he’s drinking, he loves a calm drinking partner

• Like many of the Straw Hats he’ll get very defensive on your part if people tell you to speak up, won’t tolerate people picking on you for being quiet either

• He lets you lean into him or hold his arm if you’re feeling shy, he’ll probably try to look more intimidating to others so they’ll leave you two alone

• Zoro isn’t much of a people person either, so he’d rather be in secluded and low activity places.

•he’ll gladly find you a space so you can both relax and decompress

• I’d give Zoro a 9/10 with a shy S/O, mostly because he won’t make you feel overwhelmed, and while he’s not vocally encouraging you most of the time he does actively urge you through other means to do daily tasks you might struggle in <3

Sanji

• Will kick a hole in someone’s face if they ever tell you to speak up

• The absolute sweetest of all the Straw Hats with a Shy S/O

• He can tell if you’re overwhelmed or in need of alone time, he’ll make you a nice warm cup of tea and probably set out a chair on the deck for you to relax in

• Will definitely tell Luffy to keep it down for you, and WILL resort to violence if he doesn’t, if his S/O wants peace and quiet then SHH!

• 100% sends food back if it’s not cooked how you like or came with something you don’t like, he won’t make a big deal about it either since he knows it’ll probably embarrass you, but is always willing to be your voice when you need it

• Very keen listener who is also observant, he can read your body language and tell if you’re uncomfortable, he has signals for the two of you if you ever want to leave somewhere!

• He will either coddle his S/O or try his best to encourage them, but he doesn’t want them to feel smothered, he’s so supportive honestly

• I give Sanji a 10/10 with a Shy S/O!

Ussop

• Honestly he’s the funniest with a shy S/O

• If you give him permission, he’ll tell people an impossibly HUGE lie about how you lost your voice and why you can’t speak, whether or not people believe it is the tricky part

• He loves having you sit with him while he fishes, unlike Luffy you don’t eat all the bait AND you’re a great ear, so it’s a win win !

• Like Sanji he’s extremely observant, maybe it’s the Haki, maybe it’s because he’s an awesome boyfriend, regardless he can read your expressions and body languages with ease

• The second he sees you’re uncomfortable though, VERY much like his captain and best friend Luffy, he’ll draw attention to himself

• Will definitely encourage you to try and get out of your comfort zone, hes not pushy or commanding but very gentle about it too

• If you order something over the phone or manage to have a conversation with someone you don’t know well he’ll definitely voice how proud he is of you!

• I give Ussop a 10/10 with a shy S/O <3

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

menace

4k / (your) creep!Joel x f!Reader / night walks AU

Thank you @serenaxpedro for the pic and gif 🖤

Thank you @missannwinchester for a great smut prompt. 🖤

✨A/N: you can skip to the 🚬🚬🚬 divider to get to Joel faster and skip the plot with her aunt talking about joel.

WARNINGS: creepy!Joel, some angst (read Q&A Qs 1 & 2 if you don't want it), alcohol, public groping, fingering, and humping, references to addiction, Jack getting the jack treatment, somnophilia, grinding and dry humping, thigh fucking, unsafe P in V sex, reader POV for most of it, followed by Joel POV smut. There's a floor plan at the bottom of the post.

“Following you? This is my spot, pumpkin.” He nods to the women’s room and lowers his voice to add, “C’mon, you know that.” You voice the question you’ve been asking yourself ever you saw him in that booth. “Would it bother you if I was out with another guy?” He offers a little smirk and steps closer until you’re almost up against the opposite wall. He lowers his voice more.

“I got nothin’ to worry ‘bout, baby.” He tilts his head and gazes into your eyes. “Go ‘head, know ya want it.” He holds out his hand and you hesitantly give him yours. His thumb draws light circles on your palm. “Can’t stand it, can ya? Bein’ this close, and not close enough.”

(Night Walks 8)

After seeing a topless picture of yourself in your brand new text conversation, you reply, “omg DELETE.”

Joel replies, “what’s it worth to ya?”

You don’t answer.

“Door’s unlocked,” he says.

You don’t respond. Your aunt has planted a seed of doubt and shame, and the last thing you wanna do is rush back over to his place. If he showed up at your basement door, it’d be a different story.

You don’t expect to like the guy your uncle introduces you to, but you agree to it in order to get your aunt off your back. Just in case what your aunt says about Joel is true, you figure it also won’t hurt to get your mind off Joel. Diversify your investment. Because after spending all night and all day with him for the first time, you realize you’re more invested than you want to be.

Your aunt is relieved when you once again agree to be set up on the date. She’s making dinner and you’re sitting at the kitchen table watching. “So, that’ll give you someone new to spend time with. A real looker, too.” She smiles over her shoulder, then stirs the boiling pasta to keep it from sticking. “I know there aren’t that many people your age in the neighborhood,” she says louder since she’s facing away. As if that must be why you’d resort to Joel.

“He’s a little older than you, but not more than 10 years. Definitely not as old as. . . “ She puts the utensil down on the spoon rest and her face falls, then she turns around to face you. She crosses her arms and her brows knit together. “I’m sorry,” She opens her mouth to say something, closes it, then changes her mind again. “What do you and Joel do when you ‘hang out’?” She squints at you and uses air quotes.

You swallow, then look around. “Watch tv, listen to music.”

“That’s all? I wasn’t born yesterday, honey.”

You shrug. “I don’t get it. You heard rumors, so what. What am I missing?”

“Not just rumors, honey.” She looks down and away and swallows. A pit opens in your stomach.

You’re not sure you want the answer, but you ask, “Did you. . . sleep with him?”

She laughs loudly, then covers her mouth with her eyes wide.

You study her face in anticipation.

“No, no. God, no.” She laughs more quietly. “Sleep with him? No, of course not.”

“What, then? What’s not a rumor” Your heart is racing.

“It was a long time ago.” She returns her attention to the pasta.

“What was??”

She turns the stove off and turns around, crossing her arms again. “I mean, years ago.” She approaches the table and sits down across from you. “. . . there was a cook-out at his next-door neighbor’s house. He showed up and he was all by himself. The other men weren’t including him. I felt kinda bad and went up and talked to him. He had a fancy drink. I asked him what it was, and he said he’d make me one really quick if I came to his bar. I had a bad feeling, but I still went to his basement.” She pauses and looks at you. Your face feels stone cold.

"What happened?"

“He tried to get me to, um-”

“To what.”

She sighs. “Smoke reefer with him.” She shakes her head in disbelief.

You suppress a laugh. "And you said no?"

"Of course I said no! If I was gonna try it, it wouldn't be with him."

"Did he take no for an answer?"

"Oh, yeah.”

“So what, then?”

“I just got this terrible feeling about him.” She shakes her head. “So, I left.”

“That’s all?”

“And I was so embarrassed to go back to the barbecue smelling like that.” She pinches her eyes shut at the memory, then opens them. “I mean, not like that, I don’t really mind smelling it. But smelling like him.” She holds her head with her palms on her temples for a moment, then lets them down. “Your uncle wasn't happy either. And I got pulled into the rumor mill, too, until I told people what really happened. You’ve gotta trust your gut, honey.”

Your brain might know better, but you’re pretty sure your guts want that cock all up in them. "Did he try to touch you or anything?"

"No, nothing like that."

“Did he ever make you the drink?”

“Oh yeah, that was the first thing he did.”

"Why do you think he invited you?"

She sighs. "I dunno. Maybe he was bummed after the guys at the grill wouldn’t really talk to him. When I went over to say hello, maybe he thought I wanted to hang out."

"Where were you sitting in his basement?"

"At the bar, watching him make the drink. These are a lot of questions, honey. Are you sure he's just a friend?"

You ignore the question and think for a moment. "I guess I don't get it. You say he has girls coming and going at all hours as if that means he's sleeping with anyone who goes in his basement. But he didn't even make a pass at you?"

She sighs. "Okay, you don’t have to believe that. But he’s still bad news. You know he's an ex con, right?"

Your eyes go wide. You're not put off by it, but it's never come up. If it’s true, you shouldn't be surprised, given you don't do a lot of talking, much less share your life stories. So it’s not like he's hiding it.

🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬

For the next few days, you and Joel don’t text each other, but you think about him every day and wish he would say something. You think about your aunt’s concerns, too. You feel a little better when you reflect on how this all started. How fixated Joel has been on you. How fixated he is? You get nervous that he hasn’t texted. You look him up. No criminal record in the last 10 years and you'd have to go to the courthouse to go back further. You wouldn’t put it past the rumor mill to be wrong about this.

One night, Joel texts “Walk?”

When you don’t respond, an hour later, he says, “swim?” which makes you smile.

“Not tonight, I have a headache.”

He replies, “Feel better 💐🍆.” It makes you laugh but also turns you on. You wonder why he doesn’t just show up one night.

You go out with Jack and he’s surprisingly hot, nice to talk to, and funny. He's a welder with a nice physique. He obviously works with his hands. His black hair is just beginning to gray. On the first date, You tell him what brought you to the suburbs. The need to save money and get some space from your immediate family. Jack says he wishes he felt like he could get that space. He shares that his father is a recovering addict, and he checks in on his parents a lot. He worries that his dad is going to slip. You have some common interests and you like him enough to want to see him again. The two of you text casually throughout the week.

For your second date, he picks you up for a drink at your favorite restaurant. It was Jack’s choice, but there aren’t exactly a lot of restaurants close by. When you walk into the restaurant, your face heats up. The last time you were there, you ran into Joel and he gave you head in the bathroom. You’ve known this, but once you’re there, something about physically being in the space again makes you feel exposed, like the staff must somehow know.

You sit at the bar and have a couple of drinks. The bar is a big square island in the middle of the restaurant. The main restaurant space is behind you. The front door is straight ahead, and the other two walls in the bar area are lined with booths. You’re in the middle of telling Jack about movies you’d like to see when you lose his attention. His eyes fixate on a corner booth and his face falls.

You follow his line of sight and your heart skips a beat when you see Joel. He’s facing away from you, but you can see his profile and you’d recognize it anywhere. You can see his pinstripe PJ pants, too, and a blazer which he's surely wearing over a very low-cut t-shirt. He’s sitting across from another attractive man Joel's age or older. More gray.

You realize your hand is covering your mouth and your eyes are wide.

Jack notices too and does a double take, then asks, "You know him??"

"Uh, no, I don't think so, why? Do you?"

“That’s my father.” Your heart almost beats out of your chest for a few seconds until you realize he’s obviously talking about the man facing y’all. “And I’m pretty sure that other guy is a dealer.”

You nod slowly. “I’m sorry.”

Jack’s eyes are welling up as he tries to call his dad and his dad ignores it. Jack’s dad gets up and slaps hands horizontally with Joel, punctuated by a finger grip, and his dad leaves. Joel starts to turn around and in the corner of your eye you see him head toward the restrooms.

“I’m gonna go to the ladies room,” you say and affectionately squeeze his shoulder.

The restrooms are around the corner out of view. Just before Joel opens the door to the men’s room, you ask, "Are you selling drugs to addicts?"

He turns around with a confused expression, which turns to bemused when he sees your angry face. You glance to his exposed chest and the subtle dip between his hard pecs. He looks you up and down and says, “Lookin’ good tonight, pumpkin.” You try to remember if he’s seen you in a dress or skirt before. Yeah. . . the gas station, and the last time you were here.

“Well are you?”

“Not sellin’ to anyone these days. Just an old friend sayin’ hey. Who’s he to you?”

“A friend’s dad.” You squint and try to read his eyes. You doubt he’d lie about something like this, only because he doesn’t seem to have any shame. “Then what are you doing here? Are you following me?”

“Followin' you? This is my spot, pumpkin.” He nods to the women’s room and lowers his voice to add, “C’mon, you know that.”

You decide to voice the question you’ve been asking yourself in your head ever since the moment you saw him in that booth. “Would it bother you if I was out with another guy?”

He offers a little smirk and steps toward you. You step back until you’re almost up against the opposite wall of the hall. He lowers his voice more. “I got nothin’ to worry ‘bout, baby.” He tilts his head and gazes into your eyes. “Go ‘head, know ya want it.” He holds out his hand and you hesitantly give him yours. His thumb draws light circles on your palm. “Can’t stand it, can ya? Bein’ this close, and not close enough.”

He gently, slowly lowers your hand with plenty of time for you to pull it away, but you don’t. He puts your palm against the front of his soft pants and takes a deep breath as he cups your hand around his cock. He’s barely hard, but still big. He uses your hand to slowly massage himself for a few seconds, breathing heavier as he hardens into your hand and a stab of need shoots through you.

He takes his hand away and yours lingers on his crotch for a moment, pressing into him one more time before you drop your hand to your side. He puts his hands on the wall on either side of your shoulders and leans into you, pressing his pelvis up against your body. He gets harder and leans in to nearly whisper in your ear, “feel that? your favorite drug?”

His lips linger at your ear, his hot breath teasing you until he closes his mouth and really presses himself into you with an, “mmm.” His scruff brushes against your cheek as he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, your bodies still in contact, your panties getting wetter and wetter. “It’s all over your face, baby.”

He takes a deep breath, and his warm package further stiffens against you. “Have your fun,” he murmurs. His face drifts closer to yours again. He uses two fingers to tilt your chin up and your lips part. “You’ll be back, pumpkin.” Then he closes his lips around yours and thrusts his tongue into your mouth. He moans, “Mmm,” as his lips knead yours and he sucks your mouth. His hardness swells against you as you kiss, and your chest fills with butterflies.

He steps back and adjusts himself with a raise of his eyebrows. “It’ll be here for ya.” He winks then goes into the men’s room.

You go back to the bar and awkwardly sip your drink as Jack texts his Mom and dad.

“Are you sure he wasn’t just saying hi?” you ask.

“I dunno,” Jack says and puts his head in his hands. He looks up again. “He didn’t look like he’s been using, but it scares me.”

You’re startled by Joel’s voice on the other side of you ordering a drink at the bar.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

“You know this guy?” Jack asks quietly as if Joel isn’t there.

"We’re neighbors.”

“Neighbors, sure,” Joel says with a fakely contemplative frown, then mutters, “pillow neighbors.” You hope it isn’t too obvious when you elbow him.

Jack must be too distracted to hear the comment.

“What time is it?” Joel asks, then holds his phone so you can see it and presses a button to turn the screen on.

The blood drains from your face–Joel’s lock screen is the topless photo of you. The one you told him to delete. You shift your body to try to block it.

Jack’s phone rings and the screen says Mom. “I’m gonna take this,” he says and goes outside.

Joel lingers next to you and sits at the bar after he gets his drink while Jack is still outside. He swivels his stool to face you and you swivel yours to slightly face him.

“What’s on the menu tonight?” he asks and lightly lays his hand on your knee. “Hmm?” Your legs part all on their own as he slowly slides his hand up your thigh. He squeezes your thigh when his middle finger brushes the cotton finish line. ‘Member havin’ somethin’ juicy before.” He slides his ring and middle fingers under your panties. His lips form a small ‘o’ as he exhales upon feeling how wet you are. Soaked. “Hell yeah,” he murmurs.

You scoot to the edge of the stool, you can’t help yourself. You keep glancing up at the door. He slides his fingers along your cunt and teases your entrance, watching you squirm. He stands up to get closer and insert two fingers. He brings his mouth to your ear and whispers, “filthy, baby. bet ya'd take it right here” He pulls back to watch your face and murmurs, “right on this stool, wrappin’ your legs around me. bet ya’d like that.” When he can see your breathing and eyelids both getting heavier, he slowly pulls his hand away with a smile and a quiet, self-satisfied laugh.

He sits back down on his stool and orders four tequila shots. One is for Jack, and there’s an extra one for you when Jack gets back. Joel licks your hand and holds his dry hand out palm-up for margarita salt. The bartender squints at him but obliges. He sprinkles some of it on your hand and it sticks to his saliva. Then, he taps his glistening fingers in the salt. Your eyes go wide at the use of your slick for this purpose. After taking the shot, he obscenely licks the salt and your juices off his fingers, sucks them clean, and winks at you. The door opens and Jack comes back in.

“Night, pumpkin,” Joel says as he gets up to leave. “Have a good time.” On his way out, he gives Jack a friendly salute.

Instead of driving, Jack orders an Uber for both of you together. On the ride to your house, Jack is mostly quiet. His mom doesn’t think his dad is using. Jack asks you if you do any drugs, and you tell him you smoke. He doesn’t say anything judgmental but he nods pensively. You tell him you’ve never bought anything from Joel and just know him from the neighborhood. You try to comfort him about his dad and reassure him it’s probably nothing, and to trust his gut about how his dad looked. He kisses you good night as the Uber pulls up to your house. It’s a long kiss, but melancholy on his end. You ask if he wants to come in, but he declines and leaves in the Uber.

The next day, Jack texts you that he doesn’t think he’s ready to be with someone who does any drugs at all, as much as he likes you. He thinks it would be easier to stop seeing each other now before it gets more serious. You’re hurt, but also a little relieved. You won’t have to feel guilty about what happened with Joel at the restaurant. And at least you gave it a shot.

That evening, you take a walk but don’t run into Joel. You decide to text him. After typing and erasing multiple things, several of which invite him over or ask if you can come over, you simply send, “hey”.

He doesn’t respond. You go to sleep pining for him, very turned on, but too sad and lazy to even bother with a toy.

Joel is napping when you send the text, but he’s not surprised you do. You can try to stay away all you want, but Joel knows it's always just a matter of time until you need his cock inside you. That's where he belongs - inside you.

When Joel wakes up, he showers and moseys over to your backyard instead of responding to your text. Looks like you've gone to sleep early for once. All the better. He lets himself into your basement and slinks into your room as easily as he did the first time. You remain fast asleep as he just barely lifts up the blanket and sheets for a moment. He sees you're naked and his breath hitches. "Yeahhh," he says under his breath, then starts to undress.

He gets fully nude, then slides under the sheets and drapes his arm gently over you. His warm chest presses against your back, and his hardening cock lays against your ass. You stir and softly moan in your sleep as he presses himself up against you.

He cups your breast and bends his knees to nestle in behind you, your body entirely cradled by his. He can't help but rock his hips into you. "Mmm," you sigh, still asleep. He slides his hand down your torso and dips his finger between your legs just to check. You're wet.

"Fuck yeah," he whispers to himself.

He holds his hand there for leverage and slowly humps against you. He grinds against you rock hard and returns to groping your breast. He presses his lips against the nape of your neck. Then you make the sweetest sound.

"Joel," you sigh, making his cock swell harder against you.

"Shhhh," he whispers into your neck. "It’s okay, baby." You push your ass back into him. He's so hard, he's leaning precum and the head of his cock slides wetly against your warm skin. "Shhhh," he repeats. “Go back to sleep.”

You sigh and settle into his body as he grinds against you nice and slow. “Good girl. Fuck ya real good in the mornin’." He slowly, carefully wedges his cock between your thighs for warmth and friction, and is met with all your wetness. He slides his cock along your slippery seam and cups your crotch from the front. He fucks your thighs until he can't contain himself anymore, and comes into his hand with the softest moan. He cleans it off with a tissue from your nightstand and uses your hand sanitizer to haphazardly make his hand a little less sticky.

Then he settles in as close as possible again, his eyelids heavy from the orgasm. He cups your breast and falls asleep with his body cradling yours, his warm, softening dick pressed against your back.

In the morning, his cock is rock-hard and nestled between your thighs again. When he wakes up, his hips are already moving, and you're pushing your ass back into him. You interlace your fingers with his and place his hand on your breast. You moan softly as he wakes up and his movements become more deliberate.

"Fuck, baby," he whispers into the crown of your head. "Want it bad, don't ya?" His hips thrust gracefully and powerfully, sliding his stiff cock along your dripping cunt again. You lift your top leg enough to wedge your hand between your thighs and your fingers meet the head of his cock.

"Fuck me," you whisper.

He continues to thrust into your thighs, grunting silently.

"Do it, Joel." His breath hitches at the sound of his name.

You tilt your hips just right and your fingertips gently nudge the firm, sensitive cock-head into your entrance. You press your ass back into him and your body practically sucks him in, sealing your tight, wet little hole around his tip.

He moans, then replies, "yes ma'am." He wraps his arm over you for leverage and shoves his thick cock into you with a soft grunt. He moans as he feels your insides make way. He repeats the motion and you both sigh as he bottoms out. He stays there all the way inside you for a moment.

"Feel so good, baby," he whispers as he pulls you back on his cock and rocks his hips, nudging a little further into you. You're so tight around him. Your cunt is so needy for him. He slowly backs out most of the way and pauses. You whine at the loss and your cunt grabs at him. Then he rails into you again and you push your ass back to meet his pelvis. “Ohhh,” he groans.

"Fuck," you whisper. "Joel," you sigh and his cock twitches inside you at the sound of his name. You push your ass back harder and he grabs your hip for leverage.

"That’s right, baby," he murmurs hoarsely. He nibbles at your neck your nipples pucker

The firm tip of his cock nudges your g-spot and you moan, "Mmmmm." Your head tilts back and he lifts his head up from the pillow to kiss the side of your neck as he thrusts into you at a perfect beat and hungrily palms your breast. You fuck like this for a few minutes, and he can sense your climax building.

"Fuck," you whisper, pushing your ass back harder, fucking yourself on his cock as he pounds you. "Close," you manage to spit out. You harshly swallow and it sounds like you almost choke on your own saliva. "Oh god, Joel," you say in a loud whisper.

He feels you twitching around him and sighs "Ohh, baby." His hips snap into you and his fingertips circle your clit. He buries his length to the hilt each time with a soft grunt. "That's it, baby. come on."

You whine, "yeah," and he pounds into you."Just like that," you say.

"All yours, baby," he pants. "Come on it."

You whimper, "fuck," and he pounds you harder. "So good," you whine and arch your back.

"That's it baby."

You unravel with a moan and begin to clench around him. "Yeah," he breathes as he fucks you through it. "Ohhh, that's it, baby." His sweaty chest glides against your back. He loves feeling your back against him.

You moan, "J-joel," as your cunt flutters and pulses tightly.

He buries his mouth in your hair and slows down, then slams into you to the hilt with a grunt. He knows he's there. He nudges further and groans as he erupts inside you, muffling himself with his mouth against your head as huge pulses fill you up with his warm load.

He inhales your hair and kisses you on the head as you both recover.

It's still dark out. Your bodies are sticky with each other's sweat.

"Mornin', beautiful" he says, voice hoarse and low, cock still inside you. "Miss it?" He asks with one last subtle thrust that makes you shudder.

"Mmm," you answer faintly and fucked out. He holds you and you fall back asleep with him inside you. Its where he belongs.

Q&A for this one.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! It really means a lot to me, motivates me, and helps me know what worked. It also helps me recognize you if I see you in the wild. I love y'all, you're the best.

NW: @tehweeana @ele-meno-p @swedishscumfuck

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal smut #dark!joel miller #night walks!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#nightwalks☠️#joel miller x you #creepy!joel miller #pervy!joel miller #tw addiction #joel pov #somnophilia

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