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skz317cb97 · 1 year

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The Club

Bang Chan x Thick female reader

Word count: 6.3K

Synopsis: Friends to lovers such a cute trope... in theory. You go to the club with your two best friends and the clueless man you love, your roommate Chan. Will you be able to stand watching him hook up with yet another flawless girl that you could never compare to or are you finally at the end of your rope.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! I don't know where this came from I just knew I wanted to do another thick reader fic. I honestly pulled it from my ass which I guess is what all writing is really. ANYWAY! I hope you enjoy and if you do please reblog, comment, like, send an ask whatever I love to hear from you guys. As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: Body image issues, cussing/strong language, unprotected piv intercourse (please use protection), cream pie, crying after sex. I think that's all, this one is fairly tame. If I missed something please let me know and I'll add it to the warnings asap!

Your best friend and roommate Chan knocked on your bedroom door and then walked into your room a second after, a typical move on his part.

“Come right in why don’t ya.” You scoffed. Chan flashed his megawatt smile that you failed to see since you were laying on your bed face down after having the worst week of your life. He picked up one of your throw pillows and flung it at your head.

“Hey wake up! Minho and Jisung called, we’re going to the club tonight so get ready!” You rolled over looking at the ceiling and pushed the pillow Chan threw on the floor instead of flinging it back towards him, he frowned a little.

“Pass. You guys go without me.” The last thing you wanted to do was go and watch your three pretty best friends get hit on while you sat at a booth drowning your loneliness in whatever you felt like shooting back. It always happened and of course it did. They were three attractive men that could dance, they were articulate and kind as well. So they had their pick of the women whenever you all went out to the clubs. The club experience was not the same for you.

You were bigger than most if not all the other girls at the club and your dancing was mediocre at best. Most of the time you would dance for a bit with the guys and eventually, one by one, they would break off with whatever girl rubbed against them. Then you would make your way to a booth and be there for the remainder of the night. No one ever approached you except your friends who would regularly check up on you, sit for a bit, maybe order a drink, then back out on the dance floor. You were sure it was a great time for them and usually it didn’t bother you that much but after your day, your week, you didn’t have the energy. Chan was persistent and wasn’t having it though.

“What?! No no way we’re not going without you, we all always go together.” He grabbed you by your hands and you wished it didn’t make your heart race. Chan pulled you until you were sitting up.

“So get. Dressed.” You rolled your eyes and pulled your hands away.

“I said no Chan.” He rolled his eyes right back.

“Give me one good reason why?” He crossed his arms in front of him and you let out a huff of frustrated air. A good reason why? Because you’d had a horrible week and you didn’t want to watch Chan rubbing against and kissing another perfect girl that he would bring home and you would ultimately have to listen to the soft moans and panting of a stunning girl you could only ever wish to be. You couldn’t say that to him though, so you sat there quietly.

“See you don’t have one. Minho and Jisung will be here in forty-five. Get. Ready!” He spun around and left your room before you could argue more. So this would be your night, again. You just hoped your stupid heart could take it. Sure, being in love with your best friend and roommate is such a cute cliché trope until you’re living it, then its agony. You got up and started getting ready and by ready, you changed out of your work clothes into street clothes. You didn’t try, you just didn’t feel like faking it. So a basic pair of jeans, a tshirt, some converse, and your hair up in a ponytail was your attire for the evening.

Chan thought he was going to have to drag you from your room by force but when Minho and Jisung showed up you walked out dressed and ready. Naturally since Minho and Jisung were your two only other friends they knew you had feelings for Chan. Not because you ever told them, nor would you admit it when Minho would allude to it. Minho just wasn’t an idiot and had eyes and Jisung... well Minho told him everything. Jisung was skeptical still. As soon as you walked out Minho knew something was off. You weren’t your normal glow-y self. He made fun of you constantly calling you concentrated sunshine because you just had this glow about you that made others around you smile and even though he teased you for it he found it endearing and a wonderful quality to have in a friend but that night he didn’t see it. He walked up to you.

“You feeling okay?” You nodded.

“Yea sure like a million dollars.” You deadpanned and went to walk past him to follow Jisung and Chan out the door but he stopped you.

“Hey...” You looked at him and your eyes just looked empty.

“You sure you should be going out?” You took a deep breath and tried to get a grip.

“I’m okay Min really, let's just go please?” He was concerned but he wasn’t going to push you, not tonight at least. He grabbed your hand and you both headed out the door with your friends.

Once you all arrived at the club the guys migrated towards the dance floor like you all always did, dance, then drink. You broke off and made your way over to the bar quietly. When Minho turned to make sure you were still right behind him, he didn’t see you anywhere. Chan already had a gorgeous girl in a silver sling of a club dress shaking her ass and backing it up on him and Jisung was just dancing with the mass of people. Minho couldn’t just dance and have carefree fun knowing you weren’t, he walked over to Chan and his ‘dance partner’.

“Hey, did you see where y/n went off to? She was right behind me then gone.” Minho yelled over the music.

“Probably getting a drink she’s been in a mood today I don’t know why.” Minho watched the girl grind her ass against Chan’s crotch and Chan’s hand slid across her backside as he moved his hips with her. Minho rolled his eyes, of course he didn’t know why.

“You're my best friend but you’re an idiot sometimes...” Minho mumbled.

“Huh?” Chan couldn’t hear him over the music, Minho raised his voice over it again.

“I said I’m gonna check by the bar.” Chan nodded and waved at Minho as he made his way towards the bar rail. You had initially been at the bar but as soon as you had a drink you made your way over to one of the tables you would sit at usually. When Minho didn’t find you at the bar he knew he’d find you there. He slid in next to you at the booth you’d chosen for the night. You downed the rest of your glass and he looked at you.

“How many is that?” You looked at him blankly.

“Does it matter?” He arched one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows at you and narrowed his eyes. You sighed.

“It’s only my first calm down officer.” Minho nodded.

“Come, dance with me.”

“Pass.” Minho grabbed you by the hand and pulled you.

“I don’t think that was a request. Dancing, now.” You got up because at least you could get another drink in the process. Minho guided you towards the dance floor and started moving his body to the beat, you bobbed back and forth half-heartedly. By the second song Minho had gotten you to lighten up a bit, it helped that Jisung had joined you both and you had your friends near you. Well not all of them. You had been watching your feet or looking at Minho so you could read his lips when he spoke to you. Then you scanned the mass of people dancing and your eyes landed right on Chan and the silver dress girl making out and dancing, Chan’s hand gripping her ass as she giggled and he kissed her neck, their sweaty body’s moving in tandem with each other. Your face fell as your heart shattered into a million pieces. Minho could see it happening in your eyes. He scanned your line of sight and saw Chan and the girl. Before Minho could say anything, you excused yourself.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You pried your way through the people on the dance floor trying to get out of there and into the fresh air, you needed air. Jisung was confused when you dashed off and Minho just raised his hand as he followed you.

“Just... stay here I’ve got her.” Minho cut through the crowd right behind you. You burst out the club door and into the cool night, taking gasps of air trying to will any and everything in your stomach to stay put. Minho popped out a second later and almost bumped right into you.

“Hey, look... you know... about Ch-” You cut Minho off.

“It was just hot I needed some air.” Minho rolled his eyes at you.

“y/n I know-” You cut him off more forcefully, tears slightly collecting in the corners of your eyes.

“I was hot Minho!” He stopped, pushing you would do no good and he didn’t want to upset you more than you already were. You sniffled a bit and pushed the tears back down.

“I’ll be back inside in a minute.” He looked at you unable to hide the concern on his face.

“Promise.” You said. He accepted that and headed back inside. You got yourself together outside and made your way back into the club a few minutes after Minho. You walked up to the bar, you promised Minho you’d come back inside, you didn’t say you wouldn’t drink. You were done dancing for the night you were ready to drink and forget. Forget the image of Chan and some gorgeous girl dry humping on the dance floor that was burned into your mind. You got your drink, several in fact, and made your way to your table again. Your drink of choice? Instant amnesia, tequila shots. Shortly after shot number six? Seven? Who cared. Shortly after you knocked back yet another shot Minho, Jisung, and Chan all crowded the table, the beautiful girl in the silver dress glued to Chan’s side. Minho snatched the empty shot glass out of your hand frustrated.

“Did you drink all these?” He motioned at the slew of empty shot glasses in front of you. You just nodded and Minho sighed and looked over at Jisung who looked concerned but unsure how to help. The girl whispered something in Chan’s ear and he nodded laughing making Minho look over at him. Chan raised his eyebrows.

“What?” Minho shook his head and motioned towards you.

“Do you maybe wanna try and help me here?” Chan held up one finger to the girl. He slid into the booth seat next to you and she sat on the edge right by him.

“What’s up?” He nudged you and you shook your head.

“Why is everyone acting like this isn’t what we do every time we’re at the club? I drink and you guys...” You lifted your head enough to look over at the girl next to Chan.

“do you. Just leave me alone.” Chan didn’t get why you were acting like this. So you had a bad week at work, you didn’t usually take that out on them and you definitely were never so short with them.

“What’s your problem tonight?” You narrowed your eyes at him and then dropped your head back down.

“Just leave me alone, I’m always alone anyway just...” Chan got a look on his face like the lightbulb just went off. So that was it you were upset no guys were approaching you. When Minho saw that look on Chan’s face he was almost certain it was the wrong lightbulb going off and braced for grade A Chan foot in mouth material.

“Well of course, you’re dressed as frumpy as your attitude.” You looked at him with your jaw dropped as tears instantly pricked your eyes. Minho literally face palmed and even Jisung thought that was way harsh to say. Chan realized it was too far the moment it left his mouth.

“Move and let me out.” You said quietly but sternly. The girl stood while Chan put his hands up and didn’t budge.

“Wait...” You looked him right in the endless pools of brown you usually adored as your tears threatened to fall. It wasn’t even just that he’d said it but to say it in front of that beautiful girl, it tore your guts out.

“Bang Christopher Chan move, or I will scream.” You took a deep breath preparing to scream as loud as you could, a tear slipping down your cheek and he quickly got up. You pulled yourself out of the booth and walked away without a word as they all watched.

“Wow Chan of all the bone head things to say... I didn’t think you could say something so heartless, especially to y/n.” Before Chan could say anything Minho took off after you. You were drunk and crying against a brick wall when he found you. He promised not to ask or say anything, he just wanted to make sure you got home safe. He put his arm around you and walked you back to your apartment. Back in the club Jisung and Chan stood there in shock for a second. Neither of them had ever seen you like that before, then Jisung turned to Chan and gave him an angry look.

“I know I know I feel like shit I’ll go apologize to her.” Chan turned to the girl that had been his dance partner and then some for the night.

“Uhh sorry I’ve... I’ve gotta fix this, she’s my best friend.” She looked irritated but nodded and left for the dance floor again. Jisung suggested taking the long way back to your place to give you a little time to cool down and Chan decided that was probably a good idea. By the time you and Minho got to your place you had stopped crying. He led you to your room where he helped you take off your shoes and get into bed, you threw the cover back and peeled off your jeans leaving you in your panties before laying back. Minho’s face turned a little red and he looked away until you were covered again. He grabbed you a bottle of water and dragged your trash can by your bed in case you had to vomit. He went to leave your room and let you get some sleep but your voice came out tiny and shaky and it stopped him.

“He doesn’t love me.” Minho turned.

“Who?” He asked although he knew.

“Chan.” It was the first time you’d ever admitted out loud to him that you were in love with Chan. Minho knew Chan was oblivious to it and he knew Chan loved you; they all did, but he really didn’t know if Chan was in love with you.

“I don’t know, try not to think about it right now, okay? Get some rest.” You curled up and turned towards Minho.

“Min?” He hummed smiling softly at you, he hated seeing that spark in your eye smothered by your tears.

“Nothing.” He nodded.

“Good night y/n. Sleep well.” He pulled your bedroom door closed and locked up on his way out. On Minho’s way home he ran into Jisung and Chan who had taken the long way so were walking from the opposite direction. Chan jogged up to him quickly.

“Did you find her? Is she okay?” Minho nodded.

“Yea I found her. She’s home, she’s in bed now.” Chan sighed in relief.

“Thanks Min. I’ll make it right.” Minho nodded

“I sure hope so.” Then Minho and Jisung headed towards their own apartment. When Chan got home he made sure to quietly unlock the front door. When he turned to go down the hall towards your rooms there you were in your tshirt and panties braced against the wall trying to get to the bathroom to brush the taste of tequila out of your mouth. If you weren’t still drunk you would have been mortified to be standing in front of Chan in your panties.

“Oh hey, Minho said you were asleep already.” You shrugged.

“Sorry to disappoint you but I’ll be sure to put earbuds in so you and your slumber party pal can be as loud as you want.” Chan’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Slumber party pal?” You pushed your fingers into your eyes and fought the migraine that was starting to form. You tried to walk into the bathroom and he stopped you.

“Wait. What are you talking about? Do you mean the girl from the club?” What did that have to do with it. Chan was confused.

“Yes the girl who’s attitude and certainly her dress were far from frumpy.” You could feel tears starting to form in your eyes again. You’d hoped you’d cried all you had in you. Chan felt the slap to the face your words were meant to carry.

“y/n I shouldn’t have...” You cut him off angry.

“You think I don’t know what you mean when you say that?!” Chan shook his head he didn’t understand, what he meant?

“That I’m fat! I’m fat and not pretty! I’m fat and why would anyone approach someone like me! That I wasn’t her! You don’t think I know it already?! I see the way you look at her and I see the way you look at me and I know!” You looked down crying and realized you were standing there like a fool with no pants on. You ran to your room and slammed the door grabbing sweats and pulling them on before crawling into your bed hopeful that it would swallow you and take you away. Your head was pounding and you felt like you wanted to throw up, you just wanted to disappear.

Chan stood there absolutely stunned. Why did you feel like you needed to compare yourself to that other girl? The alcohol was skewing your perspective, it had to be. You didn’t really think he meant that did you? You didn’t really think that about yourself, right? Sure the girl he was dancing with was beautiful but he thought you were beautiful too, you knew that, you knew he thought you were pretty. He thought it all the time when he watched you cooking dinner in the kitchen or when you both were curled up watching a documentary on sea cucumbers, he thought you were the prettiest when you laughed, which you did often... usually, not so much lately. You had to know because he thought it all the time... he thought.

Thinking and saying are two totally different things. He tried to remember a time he’d told you that you looked pretty or that he thought you were beautiful and he couldn’t think of one, he couldn’t think of not one time he’d actually said out loud that he thought you were pretty. Underneath he knew a lot of other feelings came up with that statement, feelings he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with, feelings that may scare you, feelings that might make you uncomfortable. You lived together, things could get messy saying things like that, so he’d thought it all the time but looking back he’d never really said it. Then he said that. God he was an idiot.

He walked up to your door and could hear you sniffling on the other side. He knocked and then walked in like he always did. When he did you turned your back to him. Your voice was small again, choked.

“Go away.” Chan shook his head and took another step in.

“No. I need to say something.” You buried your head deeper into your pillow.

“Go awa-”

“I think you’re beautiful.” You closed your eyes tightly, tears soaking your pillow.

“Stop...”

“I think you’re so beautiful and your body is...” You sat up and faced him. He had to stop.

“Shut up! Chan just shut. Up!”

“And your body is perf-” You got up and stormed towards him. You started beating on his chest with your fists and he held your arms stopping you, your eyes closed tight crying even harder, screaming at him.

“Shut up! Shut up! Don’t lie to me! Don’t you ever fucking lie to me! I hate you! I hate you for doing this to me! I hate you for making me love you!” You collapsed to the floor in front of him, curled up sobbing and whimpering at his feet.

“Liar... I hate you...” You choked out quietly and Chan stood there frozen by your confession. He looked down and saw you, then laid down on the floor beside you. He didn’t try to make you talk or hold you, he just curled up and laid there with you so you weren’t alone. He’d never leave you alone, you were his best friend and so much more. It wasn’t long before all the night’s events caught up and you both fell asleep next to each other on the floor.

The next morning you woke up stiff and sore, your head was pounding not only from the alcohol but also the endless crying you’d done the night before. You winced as you opened your eyes and then realized the warmth behind you and an arm draped over you. You turned your head a little to look and saw Chan laying by you on the floor, his arm around you. You quickly scrambled away, waking him up in the process. You sat on the floor by your bed your knees pulled up to your chest. Your chest that felt so heavy, heavy filled with the memories and the pain from last night. Chan sat up and tried to see you through his sleep swollen eyes.

“Uh hey... um, good morning...” He said in his deep groggy voice. You bowed your head.

“Morning.” You replied quietly. Chan sat there and stared at you for a second until you started to squirm. He wasn’t sure what all you remembered from the night before. He finally snapped out of it and struggled standing up, stiff from sleeping on the hard floor.

“I uh... will let you wash up then.” You nodded and he turned and left your room. You grabbed a fresh tshirt and pair of sweats and hurried to the bathroom. You took the longest shower of your life, brushed your teeth and felt a little better. Not great but you could open your eyes all the way at least. As you were coming out of the bathroom Chan was walking into the hall from the living room and you almost bumped into each other.

“Oh, sorry.” He said as his hands gently held your arms to stop you from stumbling. You quickly pulled away.

“It’s fine.” You practically ran for your room and shut the door. Chan knew for sure that you remembered at least part of the night before. He ran his fingers through his messy curls frustrated with himself and went into the bathroom to shower as well. When he was done he threw on some shorts and as he pulled his tshirt over his head you tapped at his door.

“Yea?” You cracked it just a little and kept your eyes glued to the floor.

“Um, I... can I talk to you?” Chan nodded.

“Yea of course come-”

“In the living room whenever you're done.” You quickly added. He frowned a little but shook his head.

“Yea I’ll be right out.” You gave him a single nod and closed the door. It wasn’t long before Chan walked out into the living room. You were sitting on one end of the couch just kind of zoned out until he walked in. He walked over and sat on the other end of the couch turned towards you. When you finally willed yourself to look at him you couldn’t help the small frown that shifted onto your face when you saw him sitting there with his wet curls and hopeful eyes. Chan’s heart squeezed in his chest seeing your frown.

“I think I should move out.” Like a bucket of ice water was thrown on Chan, that was his expression.

“WHAT? WHY!?” You scoffed at his reaction and his question.

“Seriously Chan? You know why. I was drunk but I remember everything. I just... need some... space, some time away...” You watched your hands as you picked at your cuticles.

“From me?” Chan said pained. You looked up at him with tears rimming your eyes and nodded. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him and he was hit with a realization that he’d taken so much for granted, a realization that he was losing you. You stood up to head back to your room and Chan gently grabbed your wrist stopping you.

“Last night, when I told you you’r-” You shook your head.

“No, stop. I’m going to pack a bag and stay with Minho and Jisung for now. As soon as I have arrangements made I’ll let you know and be back for my things, I’ll try to be quick.” Tears were streaking Chan’s face now as well as your own. You pulled your wrist free and did just as you said you were, you went to your room and packed clothes and toiletries to take with you to Minho and Jisung’s. On your way out you crossed through the living room and Chan was sitting in the same spot, still with tears running down his cheeks. You walked over and when you knelt in front of him he looked over at you, his eyes glassy with tears. You pushed his damp curls back, and he sniffled, you softly kissed his cheek and then stood and left. Chan broke down crying when he heard the door click closed behind you.

When you got to Jisung and Minho’s place the first thing you did was fall into Jisung’s embrace and cry uncontrollably. You had been strong through the whole thing and now you didn’t have to be so you cried. Jisung sat on the couch with you and let you while Minho made some tea for you all. After a good cry and some tea you got unpacked in the guest room. You all were settled in the living room watching tv after dinner when there was a knock at the door. Minho and Jisung, one on each side of you, looked at each other. Neither were expecting anyone but both knew exactly who it was, you did too. Minho got up to answer the door.

“Min...” You called him. He turned and saw your eyes, big and worried. He held up a finger nodding and turned to go answer the door. When he opened it unsurprisingly Chan was standing there.

“I need to talk to y/n.” Chan tried to walk in and Minho blocked him.

“You need to give it some time Chan there’s more to this for her than you realize.” Chan pressed his lips together tightly; he knew what was at stake and he wasn’t going to lose you without a fight.

“Minho, I need to talk to her let me through.” Minho shook his head.

“Chan-”

“She needs to come home!” Chan said loudly.

“y/n please come home!” He shouted into the apartment

“Please! Just stay with me!” Minho pushed Chan out of the doorway and walked into the hall with him pulling the door closed behind him.

“What the hell are you doing man? Are you hearing me? There’s more to this than you think!” Chan pushed back against Minho.

“I’m in love with her! She needs to come home, she needs to be home with me! So I can apologize, so I can cook her favorite dinner and grab that lemon lime sorbet that she loves at the corner store, so I can hold her and kiss her and tell her everything I should have long before now.” Chan shouted, huge tears in his eyes. Minho was stunned. Once he had his wits about him again he shook his head.

“All that aside Chan. It’s not the time for this. Just... give her some time.” He spoke softly, Minho didn’t want to have to hurt his friend and turn him away but he couldn’t hurt you either. Chan nodded, turned, and left without another word, he understood. When Minho walked back into the apartment you were standing at the opening of the foyer wide eyes filled with tears.

“Mi-Minho... did... Chan... did he just...”

“Say that he loved you?” You nodded and a tear fell.

“Yea, he did.” You took a deep shuddering breath and braced yourself against the wall.

“He looked awful. It’s only been part of a day but he looked like absolute hell not having you home.” You nodded, staring off as your thoughts spun a million miles an hour in your head. Chan loved you? Like you loved him? It was impossible. You didn’t know what to do. You were so confused. You had so many questions. You finally looked up at Minho.

“Wha- should I go home? What do I do?” Minho shrugged.

“Do you love him still?”

“I’ll always love him.” Minho raised his brow at you knowingly. It was late but you didn’t care. You ran to the guest room, threw on some jeans and your tennis shoes and started towards you and Chan’s apartment. When you got there you unlocked the door quietly and tip-toed in so you didn’t make any noise in case Chan was already asleep. You walked into the living room and Chan was on the couch. His head was tilted back resting on the back of the couch and his arm was thrown over his eyes. You weren’t sure if he was sleeping or not. You made your way over and stood in front of him. When Chan felt someone standing near him he jumped before he realized it was you. He relaxed and sat there looking up at you with big brown glassy eyes.

“y/n?” You nodded trying to fight back your own tears already. He didn’t say anything he just sat up and wrapped his arms around your midsection and hugged you, his head resting on your soft tummy. You hugged him, your fingers resting in his curls. He leaned back and looked up at you and you pushed his curls back away from his face.

“I’m so sorry y/n, I should’ve never said that to you it wasn’t right and I...” You shook your head.

“We have a lot to talk about and we will, I just have one question right now.” Chan nodded, his eyes piercing into yours.

“Are you in love with me?” Chan shook his head up and down without a second of hesitation. He did, he knew.

“Say it.” He sat up straight and looked at you, into you.

“I’m in love with you y/n. I love you. I love you so m-” You leaned down and kissed him softly. He cupped your face and tilted his head, deepening the kiss. You broke away to take a breath and Chan pressed his forehead against yours, his hands resting on your wide hips, guiding you to kneel and rest on his lap, a thick thigh resting on either side of Chan’s strong legs. His hands slid down your thighs and squeezed even through the material it sent a shiver up your spine. You steadied yourself by holding on to Chan’s broad shoulders. Those same strong hands squeezing your thighs came up and held your face so softly, his thumb grazing the apple of your cheek. Tears started to well up in your eyes, Chan gently shook his head and pulled you in to kiss you again, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth softly. You opened your mouth allowing him to slide his tongue inside. Chan wrapped his arms around you and pulled you all the way down onto his lap and you could feel him pressing into you making you throb with want as he devoured your lips. His hands ghosted down your back and rested on your hips urging you to move against him and you moaned into the kiss.

“Sound... so pretty... baby girl.” He mumbled as he kissed down your neck. You could feel yourself getting wetter hearing the sweet pet name. You tilted your head giving him better access to his target.

“Ch-Chan... wha-what are we... doing?” You panted as your hips ground together, as his hands gripped, and his lips explored. He pulled away when you asked, he was a little red and breathless chewing at his bottom lip.

“Uh wha... what do you want?” You looked at him and pushed his curls back away from his beautiful face again.

“You.” He smiled and touched your face.

“Then... I’m yours.” You kissed him hard then scrambled to get up and get your jeans and panties off. As soon as Chan realized what you were doing he lifted his hips and pulled his shorts and briefs down to his ankles. You quickly climbed back onto his lap, there was no time to be shy or bashful as Chan lined up his cock with your wet hole and eased you down on to him. You both moaned and you gasped when you were fully seated in Chan’s lap again, only this time with his dick buried deep inside you.

“Oh god!” Chan held onto your hips, his lip between his teeth, eyes closed tightly as he felt you squeeze his length with your warm soft walls. When he finally opened his eyes he saw you looking down at him, your eyes sparkling. You pulled at the hem of his shirt and took it off over his head running your hands up and down his firm torso over his chest and abs and back up again. Chan sat up his cock moving inside you deliciously making you squirm as his hands traveled up your plush body lifting your shirt up and over your head, your full breasts lined up with his face, he sucked on one and then the other, squeezing and pushing them together then raking his teeth across your hard nipples.

“Ch-Chan... please...” He let go of your breasts and his hands slid down your curvy frame and rested on your ass. He leaned back on the couch then squeezed and pulled your hips forward and then pushed them back as he rolled his hips up into you.

“Like that baby girl... ride it just like that.” You planted your hands low on his abs and pushed your hips forward and then back again on your own. You moved again and again and set a rhythm. Chan’s head rolled back and his eyes closed.

“Does it feel good?” You needed to know you he was enjoying it, you wanted to make him feel good. Chan looked at you blushing and smiling as you rode his cock.

“Mhmm yes, you feel so good baby, don’t stop.” He squeezed your thick ass and urged you to move faster. Your breaths shortened as your hips moved quicker.

“G-gonna cum... Ch-Chan go-gonna cu-” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you wrapped your arms around Chan’s head hugging him tight, his face buried in your big tits again. Chan could feel you dripping down his cock as you came on top of him, your hips stuttering and Chan helped you ride it out as he rolled his hips up into you harder. When you finally let go of him Chan slumped back on the couch again, held up your hips forcing you forward making you brace onto the back of the couch and with his strong hands holding you up he started pounding into you from underneath not only chasing his own high but sending you nosediving into another orgasm. More of your arousal dripped down his cock and there was a lewd smacking sound every time Chan hammered his dick into your wet cunt. He put you down and sat back up pulling you close as your cunt took his whole cock. It was messy grinding and rubbing and wet and as you shook and trembled through your third orgasm. Chan pulled you closer still, he held you tight and came deep inside you as he cupped your face and sweetly kissed your lips. You sat there sweaty and out of breath on Chan’s lap your head resting on one of his shoulders, his arms wrapped around you as his cock softened inside you. When you caught your breath and the adrenalin wore down the gravity of what just happened hit you like a train and you started to cry. Chan pulled you up and held your face worried.

“Hey hey, what’s wrong huh? Baby don’t cry.” Hearing him call you by the sweet pet name only made you cry harder. He hugged you close again and grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. He rubbed your back and held you until you were calm again.

“Sorry it was just a lot of big feelings all at once and I got a little overwhelmed.” Chan shook his head as he continued tracing shapes on your back to soothe you.

“Don’t be sorry I understand. Are you okay now?” You nodded and sat up and Chan smiled at you his dimples popping up.

“Good. Why don’t we wash up and get to bed. We’ll talk about everything first thing tomorrow, including you moving out of your room. You were confused and frowned a little.

“You... you still think I should?” Chan nodded.

“Absolutlely. My room is bigger so it just makes sense for you to move into mine over me moving into yours.” You let out a huge sigh of relief and shoved him a little. He hugged you close and kissed your neck.

“I love you baby girl.” You melted into his hug.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @life-is-glorious @minnysproutgriffinteddy

“I love you too Chan.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #chris bang smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤

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strangersteddierthings · 10 months

Text

What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

"Did you ask about my sandwich?" is the first thing Robin asks him when he falls through her window. Only after the question has been asked does Robin turn on the lamp beside her bed.

"Ow," he replies, because he's landed on her shoes. One is digging into the center of his back and the other his buttcheek.

"I'll take that as a no," she swings her legs off the side of the bed, sitting up to look down at him. "You know, with the amount of noise you just made, you might as well have used the front door."

"We both know your parent's know I'm here, anyway. The use of your window is to avoid conversation with your mom. She always asks if I'm planning to propose before you go to college, or after you graduate."

Robin gags. "Don't remind me. Now get off the floor and tell me when I'm to expect lunch delivered by Eddie to Family Video?"

Steve does haul himself off the floor, then, because the shoes are painful. He joins Robin on the bed, shoulder to shoulder, and leans against her. "Sorry. I forgot to ask about your sandwich."

"I forgive you. Now, to the secondary issue of the night. Show me your knuckles."

"What!?" Steve usually prides himself at being able to keep up with Robin and her random thoughts, but this is so out of left field.

Robin just grabs the hand closest to her for inspection. It doesn't take her long to drop it and reach across him to grab his other hand. "Hmm. No signs of physical damage. Did you smother him to death with a pillow instead?"

Ah. "Har har. No. There was no violence of any kind. There was some yelling, at first, and I got the last word in-" "the most important part of any argument." "-because I screamed fuck you and then ran to my room but then... then he looked so sad about it. I even tried to a pick a fight, twice!-" "Yes, yes, your self-destructive tendencies." "-but Eddie really seemed upset by it all, which, he should. If he hadn't been a dick then I wouldn't be holding a grudge. But..."

"But you were also a dick back the rest of high school, so maybe the hurts can like... even out and go away?"

"Well, we didn't word it like that but that was the, like, ending we came to, yeah. Dustin was right. He's a dick, but like, in the same way I am, I guess."

Robin leans away from him so she can sway her body back, bumping her shoulder against his. "So, to summarize...?"

Steve shrugs. "We talked it out, I told him about Christopher and like, glossed over my parents leaving me alone all the time but I think he picked up on it. Especially after I told him your theory about why I was so attached to a cousin I saw for three to four weeks once a year."

"Hey, don't do that. Don't downplay how you're feeling or smack talk your own emotions. Those are my jobs and I'll not have you leaving me unemployed. Now come on. Let's lay down, and you can be the little spoon, and tell me all about it."

"You just don't want to see my ugly cry face."

"I don't want to see your ugly cry face," Robin parrots back as she clicks off the lamp before they lay down and do exactly as promised. Steve retells the whole night in as much detail as he can remember and Robin does spoon him, patting at his head and giving his stomach a little squeeze every time his voice goes watery.

Eddie left Steve's house with his entire worldview shifted. He hasn't felt this rocked about events since learning monsters were real. And the thing that has rocked him the most isn't learning that Steve had essentially been abandoned by his parents when he was fourteen, or even learning about the tangled web inside Steve that consists of his love for fantasy, curiosity for DnD, and grief for the loss of his cousin.

No, what has rocked Eddie, what worldview has shifted, is his perception of himself and how he has been viewing the world. Him and his fucking Munson Doctrine.

It had served him well, back when he'd first learned the word 'doctrine' in sixth grade and made his own then and there. It let him draw clean and clear lines between what hurts and what doesn't, what keeps him safe and what didn't. Befriend the lost sheep, avoid the jocks. Flight was the superior fight or flight response.

And he had made changes over the years; as a rule, don't tell the cops shit about anything, ever. Make yourself the target to help the little guy (if you're the weirdest kid in school, the others might get overlooked). Slash the tires of everyone who dunks your head in a toilet.

Those kinds of changes.

Around junior year, Eddie started selling because they needed a second income. He'd put in application around town, first, but hadn't received a single call back. Hell, four the places he applied straight up told him they wouldn't hire him so he could quit checking in on his application. He knew Reefer Rick wouldn't turn him away. Not when Eddie could get to the high-schoolers Rick knew would pay too much for too little a hell of a lot easier than Rick could.

It came with the added bonus of bullying ending for him, when the same people who used to shove him around or knock things out of his hands ended up wanting to buy some drug or another, and instead of finding Reefer Rick waiting at the picnic table in the trees out of view, they found Eddie.

This added a new point to the doctrine: charge jocks double. He'd held to that until Chrissy, who had seemed so much more like one of his sheep than a jock.

And, well, everything after Chrissy should have ended the Munson Doctrine completely. Because he'd used it to put people in nice, little boxes that made sense in his mind and that was fucking blown to pieces.

Nancy Wheeler, badass gun-owner who he watched make a sawed-off shotgun? She'd in a box labeled 'Priss, Prim, and Proper' and wasn't that a fucking lie.

Robin Buckley, who he knew withstood Russian torture and willing walked into Hell to save the world? He hadn't ever even given her a second thought. She wasn't a jock, a nerd, or a customer, so she just didn't really exist. Which is so shitty of him to realize.

And Steve. Steve fucking Harrington, who ripped a goddamn giant bat demon apart with his bare hands after biting it and then spit the blood out like every horror movie fans wet dream? Like Eddie's wet dream. Well, he'd been a real dick most of high school. That was a fair box to place him in, at the time.

But because of that goddamned Munson Doctrine, he'd been a dick to Steve first. He'd ruined any chance at even being Steve's friend.

Or he had, before tonight.

It's a really fucking humbling thing, to have your own biases thrown in your face. Don't get him wrong, at first it absolutely made him livid. It hurt, and made him defensive, when Steve didn't just accept his apology. He'd instead shot back, something about him not being wrong about who Steve turned out to be and then Steve... Steve had said 'lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math' and Eddie had felt his stomach drop.

He hadn't remembered that day, not nearly as clearly as Steve did, but Steve's words had brought the moment back to him. He couldn't recall exactly what he'd said but he remembered the feeling of satisfaction at humiliating Steve some random jock that day. Satisfaction at flipping the script and getting to be the one who wasn't hurt. He'd laughed at Steve with the other people who had gathered to watch Steve struggle to do simple addition. He'd retold the story to everyone in Hellfire after school and they'd all cheered about it, told Eddie he was right to do what he'd done.

What he remembers even more, though, is coming home to Wayne and bragging about it. Thinking of the responses he got from his friends. But Wayne didn't congratulate him. Wayne had nodded softly along with the story and then said, 'you can't be the one to hit first, Edward. You throw one to many punches and soon enough yer knuckles don't feel the pain anymore.'

Eddie had puffed up, defended himself, yelled at his uncle for defending a jock and Wayne had interrupted him there.

"He mighta been the jock, but you were the bully."

That had hurt almost as much as every punch his father had ever thrown at him. And did Eddie even learn from it?

No. He doesn't think so.

Eddie had a shit life until his Uncle stepped in, stepped up, and showed him that love was unconditional.

And he's just spent the whole evening learning about Steve, and how the love of his parents had always been conditional. (And never in a way Steve could achieve. Not that Steve had said their love was conditional, but you don't abandon a kid you love at fourteen.)

Steve's every decision until the Upside Down had happened was based on what his parents would think or want. Trying to earn his dad's respect or some shit.

Steve's dad might not have hit him, but Eddie knows an unloving father.

Jesus, all this thinking makes Eddie want a cigarette. He drags himself off his bed and to the window, which he yanks open and leans half out to smoke because this is a new trailer and Wayne asked him to smoke outside when they moved into it.

He left Steve's house feeling like they could be friends, which is great. Way more than Eddie expected. It was just also... a lot to process. A lot to take in.

Jesus. He'd never expected Steve to really be willing to play 20 questions to get to know him, either; that he was willing to set his grudge aside and try, even with his anger at Eddie wrapped up in grief for Christopher. Eddie wouldn't have been able to do it.

Not with his Doctrine in the way.

He doesn't need to change everything about himself, but he definitely needs a deep dive into who he is verses who he wants to be, or has thought himself to be. Steve admitted to bettering himself and Eddie wants to be a person worthy of being around Steve.

And being honest with himself in the quiet of his room, Eddie wants be a person worthy of being with Steve.

He's allowed to be a little delusional about it all, he thinks.

#steddie #my fic #what's eight plus seven?#a little pov flip so we can get some insight on Eddie

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kendrene · 1 year

Note

Hi Dren!! I hope you're doing well :)

For the prompt ask, 20. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

When Beatrice wakes up, the battered digital alarm clock Ava bought them second-hand reports it’s 3am. The nest of blankets next to her is warm, but empty.

Her most recent dream has left a bad taste in her mouth. Her heart in the back of her throat. Adriel swooping in to take Ava away. Beatrice finding her, too late. The Halo — gone. And Ava — dead.

That’s what has her reaching for the knife she keeps sheatherd under her pillow. What causes her to slide from underneath the covers without making a sound. If Beatrice was being logical about it, she’d admit to being overly cautious. After all, Ava may have gotten up to use the bathroom. But there’s no logic to the fear raking cold claws down her spine, and the dream — the plausibility of it — is still too vivid in her mind.

She can’t discount it.

So, she stalks through the small apartment, takes advantage of all shadows. Shannon taught her how, during her first weeks at Cat’s Cradle. One of the basic lessons, delivered in the dead of night to a class of sleepy girls ripped out of their beds. Beatrice could never forget it. Stood to attention in the moonlit nave of the cathedral, toes curled inward, the soles of her bare feet numbed by the coldness of the marble as Shannon’s voice, a gentle whisper, floated to them from the dark.

She’d explained how to walk in complete silence, talked about the soft trigonometry of shadows. Said that every surface — no matter rain, or shine or starlight — reflects a measurable quantity of light. What materials are used to bend and to absorb it, which pattern and style of clothing is best suited to a mission after dusk.

The theory of it hadn’t seemed hard. The practice — to cross the whole length of the cathedral undetected while senior sisters watched her from above like hawks — was nowhere close to easy.

At the kitchen’s threshold, finally, a sound.

Beatrice folds her body low, crouches in the rectangle of night projected by the dresser. Extends her hand past its wooden corner, blade tilted just so. Mirrored on the edge of sharp damascus steel, the kitchen looks far away and kind of distorted, but the image is clear enough. The window has been thrown wide open to let sweet summer in, and Ava occupies a chair in front of it, her back to the door.

“Ava, what are you doing? It’s late.” Setting the knife on top of the dresser, Beatrice stands. She deliberately steps on the one floorboard that creaks, hoping Ava won’t startle. “You should get some sleep.”

°I tried.” Ava doesn’t turn. “Couldn’t fall asleep and I didn’t want to bother you. Guess I failed, uh?”

“You didn’t. I just woke up and I—” I thought I lost you. I thought he’d found us. I was afraid you were gone. Beatrice breathes in. Pushes the words down. “I needed the toilet.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you, uh, are you coming back to bed?”

A breeze works its way into the kitchen, scattering the maps of the area Beatrice had been studying before sleep. While not exactly cold, the wind carries a hint of a bite on its back. It makes her shiver.

“Not yet.” Ava nods to the square of night framed by the window. “I’ve never seen a sky like this, you know? Had no idea there were so many stars.”

The note of wonder in her voice draws Beatrice closer. She thinks, for no more than a moment, to the bed, now surely chillier than she’d left it. She could go back to it, she’s tired enough to and morning isn’t far, but the truth is she’s too used to Ava’s body next to hers, to the even breathing in her ear to fall asleep alone. Too fond of Ava’s arms, and the way they sometimes tighten around Bea’s waist in her sleep, like Ava, too, might be afraid of losing her.

Dragging an empty chair next to Ava’s, she sits down, not quite in Ava’s space, their shoulders almost touching.

Outside the moon is low, so close to the shadowy outlines of the surrounding rooftops Beatrice swears she could simply reach up and touch it. At the end of its waning phase, it is barely a silver thread stitched into the velvet of the night, and the stars shine brighter from its absence.

Stars. Hundreds, thousands of them. Beatrice hasn’t seen this many in years. Despite Cat’s Cradle vantage point on the hills of Antequera, light pollution from the city muddles the sky a hazy orange, making it much too bright. Only on particularly clear nights does the full spread of the stars appear, and it’s never quite like this. Not this vibrant, or this endless, the void between each pinprick of pulsing light so dark, dark, dark.

“Do you think that’s where we go when we die?” Ava asks, hushed, causing Beatrice’s shoulders to jump. “I saw it on TV somewhere that the light of the stars is millions of years old by the time it reaches us. Some of the stars we are seeing tonight don’t actually exist anymore. But… what if it were souls, instead? Wouldn’t that be better? Maybe my mom —” Ava’s voice breaks over the word, and Beatrice dares not make a sound. Ava rarely talks about her mother. “I mean, maybe it’s people watching over us, and if souls eventually die, too, then it doesn’t matter, does it? Because they leave their light behind for us.”

Ava’s words, the idea of her dying start an ache somewhere deep in Beatrice’s chest. A pain that grows and grows, until her heart feels too heavy to keep beating against the weight of the sorrow that’s threatening to crush it, until all Beatrice can do is to hold back tears.

Her mind lingers on the brevity of life, on how that life may look sans Ava. An empty house, an emptier bed, nothingness for sky no matter the number of stars dotting it each night.

“Ava…” Ava’s gaze is still upturned, enraptured by the spectacle outside. Beatrice is glad for the respite. At least, the tears tracking down her cheeks will have a chance to dry.

“I know,” Ava rocks the chair back with a laugh that sounds a little wet. “Pretty heretical, right? I’m sure that’s what Mother Superion would say, anyway.”

“I think it’s beautiful, what you said, actually.”

“You do?” Ava half-turns, and in the uncertain glow of starlight she is beautiful, too.

“Yeah. Um.” Beatrice clears her throat; the lump constricting it gradually softens. “People have imbued the stars with meaning since, well, since the beginning of mankind, I guess. It’s a comfort.”

“It would comfort me to leave a light on for you, after I’m gone.” The chair falls back in place with a thump. Ava pitches sideways, not shoulder to shoulder with Beatrice anymore, but nearly spilling in her lap. Beatrice’s arms automatically tighten around her.

“You shouldn’t talk like that. You’re not going to die, Ava.”

“Don’t make promises you know you can’t keep, Sister.” Ava pokes at her arm lightly, as if she knows Beatrice had been about to promise that, exactly. “You’re a nun. Nuns shouldn’t lie.”

“I don’t want you to die,” Beatrice admits aloud for the first time. It shocks her how easy the words come out, but perhaps it’s the fault of the dark and the quiet and an infinite sky full of stars. Nighttime makes everything more intimate, more sacred; this is the hour in which secrets that wouldn’t survive the harsh scrutiny of day can be set loose.

Beatrice almost slips Almost gives tangible form to the three words that have been brewing under her tongue. Seriously considers what might happen if she did. Would it be so bad for Ava to go into this war, knowing that she’s loved? Would it make things better? Worse?

She bites the inside of her cheek and tastes blood.

“I don’t want you to die, Ava.” She says instead. A wish, a hope, a plea to any god that might be listening and not only to her own. “And that’s the truth. Nun’s honor.”

“Good.” Ava snuggles in, face slanting into the crook of Beatrice’s neck. Her nose is icy cold. “Because as much as I don’t mind shining down to you from the sky one day, I like it better here.”

Beatrice rests her chin on the crown of Ava’s head, buries her nose in her hair. She can smell a faint trace of the cheap shampoo they share, and summer, the heat. The stars above them pale, then wink out one by one. Beatrice is glad to see the last one gone.

She likes Ava on this Earth, sleeping soundly in her arms better, too.

#warrior nun #avatrice #dren writes #here you go maddie

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arctickat2400 · 1 year

Text

I Trust You ~ Eddie Munson

Waking to the sound of the rain pouring down on the gravel outside the trailer, you smile as you turn towards Eddie. You admire his features, his messy morning hair that you love all the same. He begins to stir and you hope for rainy morning cuddles.

“Morning, baby,” You smile as his eyes flicker open. Eddie meets your beautiful (e/c) eyes, and can’t help but smile, turning his head to hide his cheeky smirk in his pillow. You can’t help but giggle.

Eddie finally looks back at you, your favorite lips smiling up at you. You find his eyes traveling down your body, but just as he takes in the sight of your belly, his smile fades, yours doing the same shortly after. Eddie turns around and lifts himself off the bed, disappearing out of the room.

You huff in annoyance. This has been happening way too much lately, and you have no idea why. You have your suspicions, which just makes you more depressed than you already are. You are five months pregnant, and you swear the bigger you get, the more unattractive you are to him. You’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he always just brushes off the subject, and you can hardly get a word in.

You stand from the bed, with a bit of difficulty. It’s been getting harder to do certain things lately, and it doesn’t help that Eddie’s not around to help. Walking into the bathroom, you take a short shower and get ready for the day. You’ve decided that you’d go to Family Video to grab a movie. Rainy days and movies are the best, well besides rainy days and reading, but when you have hardly any energy or motivation, it’s hard to do things like that. So, you opt for the next best thing.

You walk past Eddie in the kitchen making some coffee and grabbing a little something for breakfast. You tell him that you’re going out and he hums softly in acknowledgement. Rolling your eyes, you walk outside and to your car, making your way to Family Video.

“Hey, Steve,” You greet your friend at the front desk as you make your way to the romance section.

“Hey, Y/N/N, how’s it going?” Steve responds with a sweet smile. Steve’s like a brother to you, always been there for you.

“Eh, it’s going. Just trying to relax for the day. Any suggestions?” You question, gesturing to the selection of movies in front of you.

“Well, knowing you, you probably wouldn’t like my preferences. Ya know, action, sex, etc. Not you,” Steve laughs, pulling one from you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” You say, looking back down at the movies, shuffling through the options. Steve could tell something was going on with you. He has his theories also, but decides not to ask. He knew you would come to him if need be.

Just then, Robin comes tripping out of the back with a big box of movies and snacks.

“Thanks for the help, dingus. We had a whole shipment come in. Just lazing around up here.” Robin complains. Steve curses under his breath as he runs towards the back. That’s when Robin notices you, smiling and making her way to you.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Robin hugs you from the side.

“Not feeling very gorgeous lately.” You mutter under your breath, still grazing through the DVDs.

“What’re you talking about? You okay? What’s going on?” Robin piles on the questions.

“I don’t know. It’s just, Eddie hasn’t been paying me much attention. He can hardly even look at me, let alone be around me. I feel like ever since I became pregnant, he’s finding me less and less attractive. I feel like he’s losing interest and he’s gonna leave me and I don’t know what to do,” You start to panic.

“Hey, now you know that’s not true. There has to be a reasonable explanation. He’ll come around.” Robin assures you.

“Yeah, I hope so.” You say as you pick out a movie. Robin brings you to the counter and rings you up. You say goodbye, yelling goodbye to Steve in the back just as he stumbles through the door.

“See ya, Y/N,” He shouts as you make your way out the door and to your car.

Shortly, you get back to the trailer to see Eddie and the band congregating in the living room, discussing their next locations and sets. Everyone turns around when they hear the door close behind them, greeting you with hi’s and hello’s. You smile and greet them yourself, but the only one who doesn’t greet you is your own boyfriend. Usually when Eddie had company over, he would keep talking about whatever he was telling everyone, but he would smile at you with open arms, inviting you to sit on his lap, kissing your cheek before continuing his discussion.

But not today, and not for the past few months either. Now, he won’t even mumble a hello, let alone flash a smile your way, just continue talking. And you’ve had enough. You can’t take it anymore. You rush to the bedroom and slam the door shut.

Little do you know that Eddie had been staring after you, watching you walk away with a longing expression on his face. And his heart breaks when he hears the door slam and everyone turns toward the door.

“I think this meeting can wait til later…” Gareth states uncomfortably as he and his other bandmates begin packing up their stuff.

Just as everyone leaves, Eddie strolls towards the bedroom door, and just before he is about to knock, the phone rings. Bunching his hand into a fist, he stalks over to the phone and picks it up.

“Hel…” He can’t even finish his greeting before the person on the other line shouts in his ear.

“Edward Munson, what is wrong with you?!” This confuses Eddie more than Y/N’s random mood swings. “How could you treat Y/N this way? She’s going through a lot right now and you can’t have the decency to comfort your own girlfriend? Just ignoring her? What the hell is wrong with you?” It takes him a second, but he realizes it’s Robin on the other line as soon as her voice lowers just the slightest bit.

“Robin, I…” He was once again interrupted.

“She thinks you don’t love her anymore. She thinks you’re gonna leave her. She’s tried talking to you so many times but you don’t give her the time of day.” Robin continues. Eddie’s eyes widened. You think he doesn’t love you anymore? That can’t be further from the truth.

“Oh gosh, Robin. I messed up. I’m gonna go talk to her.” Before she could even answer, Eddie hangs up the phone and rushes to the bedroom.

“Y/N, my love,” Eddie calls to you softly, opening the door to see you curled up in bed. You quickly close your eyes, but know it’s too late; he’s already seen you. “Baby, I know you’re awake. I need to talk to you.” Eddie admits, walking to the bed and kneeling down in front of you. But just like he would give you the silent treatment, you would do the same. You turn around as swiftly as you can, which isn’t very fast, facing away from him.

“Aww, baby, don’t be like that. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, and I hate that I did. I didn’t mean to. Just, please, let me explain…” He’s interrupted once again as you whip around towards him. And it’s at that moment that he realizes that you’re wearing his Hellfire shirt. His eyes go wide once again and his brain is on fire. He wants so much to just take you right here, right now after seeing your belly in his shirt, but he knows he can’t. He tries to control his eager tendencies the best he can.

“Explain? Explain what, Eddie? That you can’t take one look at me without wincing and pulling away? That you can hardly speak to me, let alone touch me? Is this really so bad?” You gesture to yourself, to your protruding belly, tears spilling down your face. .

“No, baby, no. You’ve got it all wrong,” Eddie starts, standing before sitting beside you, taking your hand in his. You want so much to pull away in anger, but you feel like you haven’t felt his hand, his touch, in forever, and you miss it. So, you don’t pull away.

“Kitten, you are so beautiful. Just by looking at you drives me wild. I’m just scared to hurt you,” Eddie turns his face down towards his lap, fiddling his thumbs.

“What?” Your eyes soften as his confession, confused and worried at the same time.

“Ever since you told me you’re pregnant, I’ve been so scared that I won’t be a good father because I never had one of my own. Even more so, I’ve been scared that I’d hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you or the baby, and just by looking at you makes me want to…” But, he can’t finish his explanation when your lips land on his.

“My love, you have nothing to worry about.” You begin, your hands placed on either side of his face as you look him in the eye. “I know you’d never hurt me. You told me that from the start and I trust you more than anyone in the whole world. And I know you’ll be the best father you can be. This child will be so spoiled and loved by you, he’s not gonna know what’s coming. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just know that whatever happens, I will always love you and nothing’s going to change that.” You finish and Eddie nods in your hands.

“I love you, too, princess, so much.” At his confession, you bring his lips back to yours, his hands coming up to your sides as he brushes his thumbs over your bump. You’ve missed him so much, just being around him, his touch, the feeling of his hands on you, just everything about him.

You lift onto your knees to get a better angle, deepening the kiss. But once Eddie figures out what you’re trying to do, he pulls away slightly, placing his forehead against yours.

“It’s okay, baby. You won’t hurt me. I trust you.” You reassure him. Eddie’s still unsure, but the minute his eyes open and he sees your eyes looking into his and his eyes travel down your body and lock in on your belly, all worry goes out the window. He connects his lips with yours again, and with his hands on your back, he lays you down on the bed gently, hovering over you, removing his shirt.

Eddie holds himself above you while placing his hand on your belly. Looking down with a smile of adoration at the most beautiful woman in his arms, he begins to place kisses on your body. He starts on your neck and continues down. He lifts his shirt from over your belly, and once seeing your bare bump, his mind goes crazy. He lifts his shirt the rest of the way, revealing your growing breasts. Placing his lips in the valley, Eddie switches between each breast, drawing a moan from you each time he sucks on one of your nipples. He gently squeezes the other in his hand as you push your chest up towards him, begging for more. He moves to the other, observing the way you squirm under his touch.

Finally, Eddie moves lower, attaching his lips to the top of your belly, placing his hands on either side. You crane your neck to look down at him, only for him to already be staring at you adoringly, astounded at how such a gorgeous woman could be laying here half naked in his arms and find herself lucky when he’s the luckiest guy in the world to have such a stunning person to love and care for.

Eddie continues to place soft kisses around your belly. “So… beautiful… I… love… you… so… much…” Eddie whispers each word between each kiss.

He soon comes back up, placing one last kiss to your lips before laying down beside you, holding you against him. Eddie rubs his hand over your belly, reveling in the feeling of having you back in his arms and not having to be afraid of what could happen next.

“I told you, love, that you wouldn’t…” It was you that was interrupted this time, but not by Eddie. Just then, there’s a sudden pressure against your belly, making you gasp. You lock eyes with Eddie and you know he felt it too. You wait to see if you would feel it again, thinking about what it could have been, and, sure enough, it happens again. Your baby kicked, and for the first time.

You smile up at Eddie, him returning your favorite smile before he stares down astonishingly at your belly. Tears stream down your cheeks again, happy tears, as Eddie bends down to place a kiss to where your baby kicked. Once feeling their father’s warmth, they kick again, making you let out a laugh. Eddie jumps up to be closer to your belly as you reposition on your back to give him a better view.

It can’t get better than this, Eddie thought. How could he have stayed away this long? He questioned himself. He hates that he felt he couldn’t talk to you or be near you, when all this time, he could with your assurance and help. Now, there’s no chance of him leaving your side. He can’t leave his babies. He’s too in love and obsessed to even think of such a thing.

* * *

Taglist

@foxxymunson

#fluff #angst #eddie munson #stranger things #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #stranger things imagines #Eddie munson imagines #Eddie Munson x reader

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ryuichirou · 4 months

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Weird question but I saw your headcanons for Malleus being a bottom and I was wondering if you had any for Idia?

Hi Anon! The post you’re referring to was so much time ago, I’m glad you somehow stumbled upon it lol And thank you for asking for this type of post with Idia! I feel like it’s really been a while since I’ve written anything about Idia…

Sooo here are some headcanons! I hope you enjoy them.

Idia really isn’t the one to take the lead, and even when he gets in the mood, he would rather throw extremely vague hints than be direct about it, even if it ends up with him being frustrated because his top either doesn’t get this hint or just ignores it to tease Idia. And unfortunately a lot of his tops like to do it, because Idia gets very nervous, sweaty, blushy and pale at the same time, and when he gets frustrated and annoyed and decides that it’s not worth it, they get a perfect moment to pounce on him.

Idia’s most sensitive spots are his sides, stomach and thighs, but he is super sensitive when it comes to any kind of touch, because he really isn’t used to it. Sometimes it’s better to grab him harder, because he shudders when he is being touched gently. It’s not like he is less sensitive when touched with more force, he just doesn’t get a chance to react for the most part. Because his bfs either have 10 limbs, huge palms or just are very agile in general lol

The most perfect place and circumstances for Idia to have sex would be in his room, with the lights turned off, partially under the blanket and with Idia having some of his clothes on. And it would have to be with his face hidden in a pillow or under the hood of his shirt. In theory, Idia would be the most relaxed and turned on like this… in actuality though, being stressed, embarrassed and seen kind of turns him on.

He wouldn’t admit it openly (let’s be honest, when it comes to sexual stuff, Idia won’t admit anything openly), but he kind of enjoys being bullied a little bit. Both physically and verbally, and he can actually take much more than he thinks. I guess his weak hikki body welcomes any kind of adrenaline… Especially when someone pulls on his hair or shoves fingers in his mouth. Butt smacking is a bit too painful for him – his butt is very thin…

While I love Idia being a confused otaku virgin who has a lot of hentai knowledge but zero experience, he is probably going to try to make this whole sex thing easier on himself overtime. And that doesn’t necessarily mean he’d build a sex machine for himself (he would be too embarrassed…), but he could at least create a pillow that is comfier to sit on after having rough sex… or maybe some other… helpful… gadgets… he would be in agony while designing those lol but it’s a part of his life now so might as well.

#replies #headcanons

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tuktukpodfics · 8 months

Note

Hi! I'm thinking about making a podfic of one of my favorite fics and I wanted to ask for a couple of tips because I adore your podfics and I have run into a couple problems very early on.

how do you do deeper voices? my voice is fairly high (I'm a soprano that can occasionally deep down into lower alto) and most of the voices in the fic are male. I also always sound about twelve in recordings lol

how do you make distinct voices? again, I have a lot of different voices (probably 5-7 that talk the most, with many many other reoccurring characters).

pacing of reading. I tend to speak/read very quick and in my practice recordings, it sounds like I'm talking much faster than I felt I was. any tips on that?

what recording programs are best? currently I'm using voice memos on my phone. which. is clearly not going to give me the best sound, regardless of the app I use, but I don't have many options.

I am living in a dorm right now and live in fear of my suite mates hearing me (my roommate not quite as much as she likes to dub and does a lot in our room--though she does it in mandarin so I cant understand it). not to mention background noise of doors opening and whatnot. if you have any tips on that as well, that would be great!

I love your podfic, you put so much soul into them, and I hope that I could do that too!

Hello fellow podfic-er! I’m so excited for you to make a podfic!

The nice thing about podfics is that I usually don’t have to create characters from scratch, they already exist in the TV show. If I’m struggling with a character, I just rewatch some clips of them talking and imitate it!

Deep voices: I, too, have a high, childish voice and struggle with deep, Manly Men. I guess the main tip I have is to...give up. What I mean is focus less on pitch and more on tone. If you speak too low, it’ll be less expressive and will probably hurt your throat. It can work for minor, 2D characters, but don’t do it for main characters that have a wide range of emotions (you may notice that my Mighty Oaks Fire Sage Zuko voice swings higher when he’s emotional oops). Instead, use your normal pitch, and make a character sound adult by using an authoritative tone. Another thing I do is play up the childish and feminine voices. We might not be able to make the adults sound adult, but we can make the kids sound extra kiddish by comparison.

Distinct voices: I’m a tactile learner, so for me, it’s all about the physicality. Every time I do Azula’s voice, I make a pinched face like I’m eating a lemon. When I record Ozai, I sneer. For Sokka, I jut out my chin and flail my arms. It looks silly, but no one is around to see. There’s lots of YouTube tutorials about how to make different voices by varying speed and tone and nasal quality, but I get kinda lost in the sauce with those theory lessons. The only way I can really get myself to do different voices is if I’m working off of a reference. I just watch videos of other cartoons and live actors and then copy them.

Pacing: Pacing is hard. I especially struggle with the editing and often end up cutting things wonkily. Audiobooks tend to be slow because you’re less likely to get tongue tied that way. If I have a big hunk of text that I find myself racing through, I slow myself down with physicality again. I’ll lean in on important words or mime out the actions. For example, on the line, “Zuko turns, grabs the bar at the side of the ship, and throws himself back over,” I'll turn my body on the word “turn,” grab an imaginary bar on the word “grab” and then lurch forward on the word “throw.” Adding in movement can bring variation to those big blocks of text.

What recording programs are best: I don’t know! I use Audacity because it’s free. Adobe Audition is great too, but it’s expensive. I am very lazy with the podfics. I don’t have a professional set-up. Basically, I make a comfortable nest of pillows in bed or my closet, use an iPhone VoiceMemos app to record straight into the phone mic, send the audio file to my computer, convert the audio to a WAV file, put it in Audacity, add a Noise Reduction effect, and then cut it down. Once I’m done editing it, I export the Audacity file as an mp3, upload it to archive.org and Spotify, and then embed those links into Ao3. Feel free to DM me if you have other tech questions. I am not particularly savvy, but we can Google it together? If any voice actors on Tumblr have professional advice, please chime in.

Silence and privacy: Background noise is a big headache for me too. I live in a noisy area with lots of planes and a squeaky elevator. I usually record now in my closet surrounded by pillows and blankets, so it’s fairly soundproof. If there’s a noise, I usually wait for the sound to stop, record the line again, then edit out the mistake in post. At the end of the day, though, sounds will slip in. It’s just a podfic; we’re doing this for fun not professionally, so it doesn’t need to be polished. I think most listeners’ attitudes is that something is better than nothing. If you’re in a school dorm, there might be music practice rooms, a radio recording booth, or empty classrooms you can use instead.

Storage: Something I didn’t realize going in was how much storage the audio clips take up. Make sure you save and delete projects as you go. One time I finished editing an Audacity project, but it wouldn’t let me save it because I ran out of storage and I had to start over.

I’m so glad you like the podfics I’ve done and that it could help inspire you to make one too! I started making podfics because I fell in love with @pixieinthesky’s fantastic Salvage podfic (it's an absolute gem). Keep the chain going!

Have fun!

#podfic #how to podfic

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idioticsky · 4 months

Text

Baby it's cold outside...

GUESS WHOS BACK BABY! FIRST STORY OF 2024 WOOOO!

Word cout: 937 (short I know, but it's what I could manage today :])

Leo was humming as he prepared himself some tea, a nice lemon tea with a bit of honey and sugar for sweetness.

"You know, lemon tea was alway my favorite, I'm a sucker for lemon stuff heh," that quote played in Leo's mind over and over as he stared down at the cup he was holding."

"She used to love lemon tea..." He thought back to the day he found this little fact about Danny. The day she first spent a night.

--------------------------------

It was a particularly cold December day. Leo had invited Danny over to the lair for a movie day with him. He was really just excited that she had agreed in the first place. He was setting up everything himself, making sure that it was just perfect. Leo kept thinking to himself, would Danny even like it? Does she like Jupiter Jim or does she hate it? Oh no what if she hates it?! All the movies he picked out would've been for nothing! His mind was really starting to race now, then it all came to a stop as he heard someone enter.

"Hey, anyone home? Leo?" Danny called out as she looked around, then she found Leo building a pillow fort. She smiled at the sight of the slider fumbling around before sitting in the fort like nothing happened at all.

"Hey Danny, didn't see ya there heh."

"Oh really? Cuz you just stared at me blankly for a moment before scrambling into the pillow fort," Danny teased Leo as she took a seat next to him, "so, what are we watching, Lee?"

"Oh uh- just some space movies I like, but if you don't like them we can change it to anything you want. I don't mind."

"Hm, well I like space and everything so come on, let's see how fun this night is gonna be," she smiled as she laid her head on Leo's shoulder, it sent a shiver through his body as his face went a bit pink with blush. He turned on a Jupiter Jim movie and so the movie day started.

--------------------------

The two watched movies and chatted for hours until it was starting to get late. Danny and Leo were talking about some theories they had about the movies when her phone went off. It was an alert about a snow storm coming.

"Dammit.. sorry Leo, I know I said I would stay for a bit longer but I gotta run home before the storm hits," Danny then got up to go grab her jacket and throw it on, all whole Leo gave a small pout while staying on the couch.

"Come on, can't you stay the night or something? You can't walk home when a storm is about to hit anyways, what if you get caught in it? You're my best friend and the only one I got so I don't wanna see you getting sick. Got it, Dan?" Leo said as he looked back at Danny. She paused for a moment before caving and slipping off her jacket once more.

"You win this time, blue boy," Danny sighed as she fell back onto her spot on the couch.

"I win most of the time, witchy," Leo smirked, "make yourself comfy, I'm gonna go make some tea for us ok?"

Danny nodded as she looked for another movie to put on. After a few minutes she could hear Leo's faint singing coming from the kitchen, so of course she had to get up and check it out (who knows, it could be blackmail for later >:])

"I really can't stay, baby it's cold outside, I've got to go away, baby it's cold outside," Leo sang to himself as he made two cups of tea, a nice lemon tea with a bit of sugar and honey for sweetness. Danny smiled as she stood in the doorway listening to Leo sing whole thinking no one was there.

"You know," Danny started, making Leo jump and whip his head around to look at the witch standing behind him in the doorway. She then started to walk over, "lemon tea was always my favorite, I'm a sucker for lemon stuff heh." She took the cup off the table as she looked at Leo's embarrassed face. Danny couldn't help but giggle a bit before she kissed Leo's cheek. "Thank you, by the way, I really appreciate you making tea," she smiled as she took a sip.

"O-Oh! It was nothing really, j-just happy you like it," he spat out, his embarrassment turning into him getting flustered from the kiss on the cheek.

--------------------------------

Leo snapped back to reality, he then made another cup of tea. He walked down the halls of the resistance base to make his way outside, he passed several memorials, some of warriors who fought for the safety of others, some who worked back at base to make sure everyone was healthy and alive. Leo then stopped in front of one the writing on it had faded over the years, but was still somewhat readable.

"Danielle Hamato,

A loving mother, wife, and friend

18XX-20XX

May she rest in peace"

"Hi love.. I made some tea for you.." Leo mumbled as he set the cup of tea in the ground next to a pair of goggles, the lenses were cracked and even one was shattered. He then took a seat himself in front of the memorial. "I really can't stay... baby it's cold outside... I've got to go away... baby it's cold outside..." Leo started to sing, hoping, if even for a single moment, to hear Danny interrupt him one last time...

#rottmnt #rottmnt oc #rottmnt future leo #rottmnt au #rottmnt future au #i have the smallest bit of motivation and had to work with it to make something sad for the new year #hell yeah

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northernolddragon · 5 months

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I love your Haarlep and Raphael so much ^~^ why them?

Hello, anonymous. You mean why is this one of my interests? Or why does my soul have a passion for them? I'm guessing, it's both. :) In fact, this pairing has existed since I first met the incubus and enjoyed the scene with him in the aesthetic form, that is usually admired in a beautifully shot erotic short film. Their relationship is confirmed by the studio itself, given the secrets of the Devil's acquaintance in the House of Hope, which are revealed as soon as you get there. I fucking love these two. And I can't stand their romanticization. I like them, both individually and together.

Haarlep is underestimated by many. Its surface is that of a sex toy. Let's be honest - that's practically how it is. The tip of the iceberg that everyone recognizes. And don't want to go deep into a volcano. :) But he is an incubus (or succubus - depending on what the player prefers). Its essence suggests a sexual context. These creatures feed on lust, passion and desire. And yes, they devour their victims during intercourse. Fortunately, we have a choice. I prefer to leave Haarlep alone as he doesn't do anything bad to the player. The only thing is that he will not play to your tune. He prefers to get his own. Figuratively speaking. And during this cut-scene you can reveal Haarlep's personality as a very ambitious, smart demon. I like that it offers play. A game with a mouse, like Raphael. Tav is also a little mouse for him. And he's a cat that Raphael clearly respects, given some of the information that we receive during our communication with the personal incubus. From here the 'sex toy' moves into the background. In my humble theory, he's the favorite. He's a favorite, like the Duke of Buckingham for King James VI of Scotland or Philippe de Lorraine for Philippe, duc d'Orleans, brother of King Louis XIV. Accordingly, Raphael is the king (or Emperor) of his kingdom (Empire), and the incubus is his favorite. Favorites had privileges that queens and empresses sometimes never dreamed of. Naked facts. And Raphael shares everything with him and doesn't hide anything except what's in the safe, right? Is it really just about sharing with a sex toy your thoughts? Not sure. This is logical, don't you think? That Raphael chose him from many other incubus (succubus) and demons. And I trust the Devil's choice, since he hid several of his secrets in the boudoir. In his personal space there is the only incubus. One of his secrets. Even if there is no love in their relationship (there is none, accordingly - I'm sure that it doesn't exist in their understanding), there is a certain trust and respect. Peculiar. Belongs to both of them. He trusts Haarlep with his dirty secrets. His desires and fantasies. He trusts him with his body. His face. His essence.

Haarlep has some power in these chambers. And he behaves relaxed, not tense, like a person to whom everything is permitted. He behaves like a favorite.

Let there be a treaty between them (I've read some theories about the possibility of an incubus being there as a personal pleasure, and I find this theory more realistic and entertaining), let there be a dozen fire-stinging stones in a theory where Haarlep is not particularly happy with his position. But I don't consider him a victim. He is in the Devil's chambers. On his pillows. In his bed. He is, I must say, in an excellent position. Whatever was behind his wings. Whatever stories this situation hides. He settled in perfectly in the space of the House of Hope. He laughs, he is amused, he knows Raphael almost completely. He is his perfect copy. Is this a loss of individuality or a choice that has already been forcibly ingrained? Or is it an imposed preference and approved by rebellious humility? I love the moment, when Haarlep mocks his Devil. This is the best thing about the scene. He plays pranks like a cat, knowing that his owner will not praise him, that this will anger Raphael. He adds fire to the flames already filling the House of Hope, because Tav has climbed where he shouldn't. And since he asks, it makes no sense to lie. Is this revenge for the agreement? Or is his own dissatisfaction that he is a hostage to his position, which he both likes and perhaps periodically gets bored with? Various options are possible. Without vanilla dreams of romantic feelings. No secrecy. But the point is that he knows the Devil. He knows, what he is like. He knows, he won't like it. And he gives away the keys to the most valuable things. He is their keeper. He is the keeper of the Devil's main secrets. He is a good cop towards Tav and a bad cop towards Raphael. He's a demon. And he has the right to do as he wants, since it is not that he isn't afraid of Raphael - he's neither a servant, nor a representative of the second or third class, and probably knows that nothing will happen to him for such. After all, the guilty thief will take full responsibility.

The devil is not so stupid as to put just anyone into his bed. We see that Raphael prefers order. As the owner of his house, he does not tolerate chaos in his possessions unless he wants it. Judging by his behavior, how courteous he is, how collected he is, a portrait of a meticulous to the point of neatness is clearly emerging. That is why he is so enraged when, despite his advantageous decency, if a player signs a contract, deciding to break it, comes to the House of Hope, or follows Orpheus' hammer, without his permission he visits something that is kept in strict order and according to the rules of Raphael himself. Therefore, I see no point in romanticizing his relationship with Tav, since he makes it clear that it is not the character that he craves, but what this little mouse can give as a result of his progress towards a single goal. He may admire him to some extent. But Tav will remain a mouse. And Raphael is the Cat. And he defines inequality by this. :) He distributes it clearly and politely. Nevertheless, the above describes Haarlep and Corilla as equals. To those close to him. They are his advisers, spies, guardians. Therefore, no matter what stones hang in the relationship with Haarlep, his relationship is realistically confirmed. And I like their uniqueness. Their honesty. Their non-standardity. There is no love there, no sweet feelings there. There is something that Raphael values - honesty. It is unlikely that he would want Haarlep to cowardly tuck his tail between his legs and say in a trembling voice that all his poems and plays are written beautifully, magnificently, and are masterpieces, when this is far from the case in his creative process. Let's leave this to those behind the boudoir.

Rather, I see that Haarlep, on languid evenings in Raphael's company, shows one of his best qualities, expressing what's wrong with this poem, and that he doesn't like the way its ending sounds, and Raphael needs to think about it and redo it, even if it will cause disapproval on his part, he will appreciate honesty. They don't grovel before him, they're not afraid that he'll grind you into powder with his gaze, crush you, and rub your sole into the floor. So I appreciate Haarlep's characterization. That's why I see more fire here. That's why I like them both together. :) They're incredible.

And I wouldn't say that Haarlep has lost his personality. Rather, Raphael is precisely what values. He's a good actor, and at the same time quite honest in separating himself from the image of Devil. There are noticeable differences in it. His ambition does not allow him to hide himself in the obsession of a 'copy of the Devil'. Therefore, many often prefer Haarlep more than the true Devil. They see the difference, I guess. Haarlep is a kind of vicious 'side', not without intelligence and tenacious claws. He is more open to sophisticated games. And he doesn't hide the fact that he can eat you. In all senses.

And yes, I get aesthetic pleasure from their design. The characters themselves. The devil is in the details, as they say. :)

This is just my little analysis. Opinion. Everyone keeps their fantasies in a safe (in mine there is also a place for Raphael / Astarion, why not?). Thank you.

P. S. I apologize, if there are any errors. This isn't my native language. But I tried to check everything as much as possible. :)

#ask #raphael x haarlep #haarlep x raphael

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

Text

In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. Bruno x F Reader x Fugo

Word count: 1.3k. Note: i finally dusted off this draft thanks to gorgeous art drawn by @nanabrainrot depicting a preview i posted a while back ... it immediately whipped up my inspiration to finish things off 😌

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

There is very little that escapes Pannacotta Fugo’s notice.

He’s a man obsessed with details, down to the most minute. While this has aided him in his studies and other educational endeavors, it can at times be more of a bane than a boon, depending. This would be a prime example of the latter. Though he contented himself by admiring the passing scenery during the drive back to Napoli, he couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling of being watched. It wasn’t malicious, so much as it was something else, smoldering yet otherwise unidentifiable aside from that lone detail.

While Fugo had a guess about where this stare was coming from, he didn’t rush to confirm it. Ignorance is bliss, or so they say. He’s curious how the idiom would adjust for partial ignorance.

It wasn’t until a ways into the drive that he worked up the courage to confirm his suspicions. Just as he predicted, a pair of cobalt eyes belonging to Bruno Bucciarati greet him upon glancing in the rearview mirror. They lock gazes and hold it unblinkingly. All is silent, save for the hum of the rental air conditioner, and cars passing them by on the highway.

That is, until you pipe up in a half-intelligible voice. “First position… no… fifth…. position…”

Both of their attention redirects to you.

Presently, you’re helping yourself by using Fugo’s shoulder as a makeshift pillow. You’ve been out like a light since you plopped into the backseat. Alarm was Fugo’s initial reaction — who could expect him to think straight when you were so close? Closer than you’ve ever been. The warmth your body radiates only pales in comparison to the flush holding his cheeks hostage. Fugo thought it would fade away with time, and it did, up to the point you mumbled a cute little message while in the land of dreams.

In a way only you could, the tension threatening to build in the air momentarily dissipates. It’s like you’re looking out for him even in your sleep.

Quietly as he can, he clears his throat, not trusting his voice to have the strength necessary for the conversation ahead. “You don’t think there’s someone following us, do you Bucciarati?”

“No, I don’t,” Bruno replies without missing a beat. He must’ve been anticipating the question. “Why do you ask?”

If one applies pressure to a wound in the wrong manner, they can do more harm than good when it comes to stopping the bleeding. This concept is what bounces around in Fugo’s mind unceasingly. He wouldn’t mind if almost anyone else in this world bled. But this is Bruno, a man he admires more than his own parentage, to the point he’d follow any order received without question. Maybe it’d be best if Fugo dropped it. They both know where this could head otherwise, an unspoken yet mutually understood truth nonetheless.

This could potentially be the point of no return.

Yet, if there was ever a time Fugo would cross the line, it would be because you stand on the other side waiting.

“I just happened to notice you were looking back here a lot, is all.”

The atmosphere shifts to something colder without the actual temperature changing.

While not an outright challenge, it’s an undoubtedly bold move on Fugo’s part. Bruno is back to looking at the road ahead. Fugo notes the tension he’s holding in his shoulders, how his lips have been pressed into a firm line. He must be giving this plenty of thought like Fugo is, if not more so. His fingers are tight on the steering wheel.

It’s simple, really, Fugo reasons. Bruno’s behavior could be explained even by someone who wasn’t a genius like himself. At first, Fugo thought Bruno found you attractive and nothing else. Not a farfetched theory by any means. You’re a looker, even he could admit that when he first met you and wondered what good your addition would bring to the team. It wasn’t until recently that Fugo came to terms that it might go beyond that, into something more intimate.

Bruno almost always had a smile on his face when you were present. He hung on your every word, setting aside whatever he was doing previously to give you his undivided attention. While he took to Fugo’s advice for legal and financial matters, you were his top pick for jobs that required interacting with or winning over people. Bruno saw potential in you before Fugo even gave you the time of day.

Only a fool would chalk that up to simple physical attraction. Unfortunately, a fool is the furthest thing Fugo was from being.

“This was the longest job she’s had since joining Passione,” Bruno finally speaks up, his voice low so as not to disturb you. “Polpo will be expecting a full account from me. He had his reservations on sending her with us, I hope this will prevent any reservations in the future.”

The grace with which Bruno redirected the conversation was enough to earn Fugo’s admiration. He was being truthful by saying all this, though there were details he purposefully omitted. Treating you like his responsibility is a smart play. Fugo knows a brick wall when he sees one and decides not to press his luck further.

The topic could’ve been dropped altogether for propriety’s sake. However, much to Fugo’s disbelief, it’s Bruno who removes the spotlight from himself and shines it blindingly toward his younger teammate.

“What about you, Fugo? You were worrying over her plenty yourself.”

“That’s…” Fugo trails off, wetting his lips. “How could I not? Any mistakes she made would reflect poorly on Passione, and by extension, us. I was looking out for all of our best interests.”

“Mhm,” Bruno gives the most disbelieving affirmation.

Fugo, while frustrated, can’t bring himself to feel offended over the humbling he just received. Other men in Passione have had limbs refused when challenging their leader for less. Bruno was a compassionate and forgiving man when compared to that, or any other person, for that matter. He huffs and sinks back into his seat. Meanwhile, you keep snoozing away, entirely oblivious to the verbal battlefield with arrows whirring in every which way around you.

“... How do you think she did?” Bruno inquires. He wonders if Bruno knew how tender his voice became when you were the conversation topic.

“I thought that elderly couple wouldn’t ever give [First] back to us,” Fugo can’t help but joke.

You did well, he feels that goes without saying. The job was as such — some old money with connections to Passione that went way back where to stay in their Posillipo summer villa for a time. Neither Fugo nor Bruno knew anything about them aside from the fact the older gentleman recently retired from his business in Chicago, or as much as a mobster for life could ‘retire’. He cherished his wife dearly and wanted nothing but the best protection during their stay.

The Signora was especially taken with you. She found your company a delight, to the point she asked you to join her for breakfast every morning. Her interests in the arts aligned well with yours.

“I wouldn’t have let them keep her,” Bruno replies with a smile. Fugo doesn’t doubt it either.

No, they both have to share you enough as is. This team that Bruno is starting to build can already feel confining at times when either of them wants your attention — and it’s just the three of you for now. Apparently, Bruno has some ideas for new members he wishes to invite. Fugo may not be a religious man, yet he still prays whoever comes next doesn’t find themselves wrapped around your finger as well. That’d be pure misery for him.

Though when he looks at your sleepy face, and your soft, glossy lips that are almost always curled into the sweetest smile, he can’t help but have his doubts.

#bruno x reader #fugo x reader #bucciarati x reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #vento aureo x reader #jojo's bizarre adventures #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jjba x reader #part 5 x reader #scarlet ribbons #my stuff

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thatcheeseycandle · 4 months

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//spoilers for Young Iron's In Pursuit of Self chapter, "27 - Darkness", and for general big lore things such as the Gold dust things

AAAAAAAAA CONTINUING ON FROM THE REBLOG. I WILL THROW THIS PHONE IM TELLING YOU LOT I WILL.

"Why is it so cold?" ..OLIVIA. IM TELLING YOU LOT THIS IS BAD. BECAUSW YKNOW HOW LIKE GOLD FUST IS WARM AND YKNOW HER GOLDEN WHISYLE ID GONE?? WELL. YEAH UH. YEAH.

NONONONONONONOOBODAHHAHSHDKOJONOBON HER BODT ITS NO NOMONONOB PEONY SVAE JER AH NPNOOSOAO

COLD IROWB NAOSOAOAOAOAOAOAOAKAOOOA.

MY HEART. FIRST IT WAS NORTH. NOW OLVIIA?? To think abput it, its quite poetic considering how North's (possible) last words were "Im sorry" while Olivia's (MOSTBLIKELY POSSIBLE) last words were "North" being yknow.. His name

Kinda yknow poetic to think that they wouldve (MOST LIKELY NEARLY.) died on the same day.. AAAAOFHAKFJDJ

..wait. Peony said that Polly's enginr was somehow "saved" and now Olivia's gained cold iron sleep. Last chapter it was explained how and why Polly's soul entered Olivia's body to help her with her sickness. And since it's known that mostly sentient locomotives are the ones who mostly gain cold iron sleep.. Cold iron sleep entered Olivia's body THROUGH POLLY'S ENGINE BECAUSE THERES NOT MUCH GOLD DUST INSIDE HER ENGINE TO BLOCK OUT COLD IRON SLEEP. WHTAAHWYATA.

BUT HEY. THATS JUST A THEORY. A GAME THEORY-

YKNOW ITS QUITE RICH THAT, OF ALL PEOPLE, ROOSTER WAS THE ONE TO SAY THAT (considering his name HELAHFLDPSJAH)

"He has PTSD?" ..SCOT. HE. SAW. YOU. DROP. DEAD. OF COURSE HE HAS PTSD MY GOSH

THANK THE LORD ROOSTER MENTIONED THAT

ROOSTER SAYING THE REALEST WORDS HERE. IM TELLING YOU LOT ROOSTER IS SAYING THE TRUEST WORDS IN THIS CHAPTER

Wait. OKAY WAIT. WHAT. THIS WHOLE TIME. MY GOSH IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE. SIR GRESLEY TOLD MALLARD ONT HE GOLD DUST

After 31 reads.. MY GOAH IM STARTING TO REALIZE THIS

"he'd begun to lose faith in North" WHAT. SLAMMING MY DESK RN. I knew this wouldve been said soon BUT WJAT I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS THIS KNOWN TO THE OTHERS?? Well SURPRISE SURPRISE ME ITS A NEW CHAPTER OF COURSE I DIDNT KNOW-

PAUSE. MALLARF?????? OKAY MALLARD IS REASONABLE TO BE GUESSED AS A GOLDEN WARDEN BUT TO BE ONE OF THE OPTIONS TO BE ONE?????? IM JUST FALLING OFF MY CHAIR RN. WHAT.

"He convinced himself into becoming a monster" and "No one hated Mallard more than himself." ARE. THE. MOST. RELATABLE. QUOTES. IM QUOTING THIS. THIS. these quotes are so relatable in many ways I could make 2 posts on. I SWEAR TO GOSH AAAAAA. Young Iron is shockingly relatable in all emotions in many ways AND MY GOSH DID IT BECOME MORE RELATABLE AAAAAAAA

Okay. Pause. Merlin was the only one to stay with Mallard throughout his black smoke arc. And yet it killed him in tje end..

NOW THIS IS THE BIT I TRULY TEAR UP AT. IM PAUSING THIS GIVE ME A MOEMNT.

Now continuing on.. Kimg

Kingdbah KIGN EDQWAR I DNOAOAOAIFHD YOU LITTLE GOSH. AANAAOAOODODODOXOXOXOCI

TYDFIL NOAOAOFOFOOOOOOOOOOAOAOAODOSOOSOAOAOAOAAOOOOOA GOD GOSH TYDMDNSAJSHTDVDVAOHOOAOAAAAAAAA.

OKAY. I NEED TOBBREATHE. I WAA SCREMAING. INTO MY PILLOW. PAUSE. PAUS EPAUSE. OKAY.

IM NOT OKAY /NSRS

Anyways yeah that qas my food review for today guys lile and subscribe for more vlogs /JOKEHIEKAJFJX

(In all seriousness this chapter was AMAZING OH MY GOSYFHHD the angst, the lore bits, the funny bits, IT WAS VERY WELL WRITTWN AND COMPILED IN THIS I LOVE IT SO MUCH!! A JOB WELL DONE YET AGAIN BY THE LOVELY REDWYVERNWRITES WOOOOOO /VVPOS)

Bonus:

Can we just appreciate the little ":D" yknow the little innocent yippee the silliest of ":D"s out there /pos

#cheesyversial rants #GOD WOOOO THIS HAS BEEN A VERY EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER HEHAHDHDHX #Now to those in the writing guild (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) who are most likely reading this like Im crazy.. Im more than crazy for this/NSRS #ttte fanfic #ttte au #ttte #ttte young iron au #ttte in pursuit of self

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sucrosette · 5 months

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★— ⋆｡˚ [Pillows]

For Day 15 of Carry on Countdown 23, Familiar. @carryon-countdown

In which Simon is an actual half-dragon and he's found himself in a bit of a situation with a certain human mage. He's not exactly unhappy about it, somewhat surprisingly.

This part is rated T, mostly just for the language.

Part one (for Day 9) can be found [here]

⋆｡˚

“Perhaps you’re a dwarf,” Simon’s would be captor mused, flipping through a giant tome from his safe place out of Simon’s binding circle. A safe distance from all the nipping and biting and fire breathing that would have been happening if Simon could just bloody leave.

Simon circled anxiously in his circle, pacing along the edge of it once, then twice, and a third time before curling up on himself, blowing more smoke up at the studious mage out of his reach. His chin settled on his claws and he closed his eyes, determined that if the mage wasn’t going to pay attention to him, he may as well nap.

“You certainly don’t appear as a fairy dragon would have,” The mage kept talking as if Simon was listening at all, “Beyond just your size, your wings and scales are all wrong. Much too sleek and far too unkempt. A fairy dragon would never allow themself to become such a mess. Not to say you’re not a very handsome whatever kind of drake you are, but you’re certainly not the kind I was seeking.”

Simon cracked his eyes open just to shoot a glare at the pacing mage standing at the edge of the circle. He flicked his tongue to express his discontent at being called unkept. Not that his captor was wrong, but it was impolite to just call someone that before you even knew them.

“Not to mention the language barrier… I wonder where I went wrong with the summoning…”

Simon squawked up at Basil and that seemed to finally draw his attention. Sure, it hadn’t landed him a blanket and a pillow or anything like a proper nest, but it was something. He raised his head and flicked his tongue again, watching as the mage came to a halt in front of him.

“Wait,” The mage breathed, a hand running through his raven locks, “Can you understand me, then?”

Simon raised a wing as if to say, yes, of bloody course he could. It wasn’t perfect, but it seemed to do the trick.

“Oh, well maybe we can work something out after all,” The mage declared, “Let me explain what I’d been intending, and we can figure out where to go from there.”

Simon scrunched his nose up at the larger, his discontent clear.

“Okay, clearly I need to not parse my words. Let me start over.” Baz set his tome down on the floor, kneeling just on the other side of the circle.

“I go by Baz,” The mage started, “I’m looking for a familiar, and it’s all supposed to be entirely consensual, despite how it might seem from in there. If you weren’t able to consent to it in the first place, I was going to set you free. Further, if you didn’t want to abide to the contract, I’d set you free. I just need something to… mmn… essentially serve as a magickal conduit for me. Something that can channel and hold for me. Perhaps a sort of equilibrium in the matters of my work.”

Simon just gave the mage– Baz– a confused look.

“Right,” Baz laughed a little when he realized he’d been about to go into theory, “You don’t have to understand it, I suppose. It’s just when I need to do magick that’s bigger than me and my body alone can handle, a magickal assistant can take the impossible and make it possible. Fairy dragons are particularly good at this, which is why I was specifically seeking one, but really, any magickal creature with capacity to consent will serve. Do you understand?”

Simon’s tongue darted out over his little dragon teeth and he nodded. He guessed he got enough of the meaning behind the words Baz had rambled out.

“Okay, great. Now, the next part. I’m going to break the seal, please don’t fry me.”

Simon uncurled himself and shook himself out, stretching as he stood. He circled another moment, as if considering, before finally nodding his agreement.

Baz broke the seal with a quick swipe of his thumb through the chalk lines of his seal. Simon crawled himself forward slowly, eyeing the lines with mistrust, hissing as he crossed. No invisible force struck him back or kept him bound though, so he strode through the rest of the way all too confidently.

“Can you read?” Baz propped the open book up so Simon could see it’s lettering more clearly.

The look Baz got for the question was absolutely dead inside.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I don’t know how common it is for dragons to read human languages.” Baz paused for a moment, brushing his hair back out of his face, and Simon huffed at him, rolling his eyes in a terribly exhasperated way that could only be expressed in such a tiny shape.

“Okay, so obviously you read,” Baz corrected, “Would you consider a contract with me? It’s not all one way. I’d keep you fed and housed and such. Give you enrichment activities.”

A small moment of extended eye contact passed between them.

“Alright, fair, I realize how that sounds. But there’s a lot of nuance to a familiar contract. You wouldn’t be like a pet, more like a partner in magick.”

Simon sat up on his haunches so he could look more properly at the awkward expression his proposed partner was wearing. Maybe he wasn’t all bad.

“Okay, so yes, you caught me,” Baz sighed out. Simon, on the other hand, had no idea what he’d caught in the first place. “I was about to say partners in crime. Not that it would be magickal crime we’d be committing. Or any kind of crime. Do you even have a concept of human law and crime? Bloody hell, this really isn’t how I was expecting this to go…”

Simon hissed out an almost laugh, as close to the sound as he could get his vocal cords to manage in this shape.

“Okay, good. So I am being ridiculous. I’ll leave the contract here for you to go over. If you like it and want to sign it great. If not. We’ll figure out how to teleport you back from wherever you were before this. You can crash here for the night.” Baz gestured to a small bed shoved up into the corner of the room Simon’d been summoned into.

He took a moment to really take it in, since he’d been too distracted by being unwillingly bound in a circle before. It looked like it was a basement, a bit dim for lighting, but not particularly dready or unkept. In fact, it was a very, very neat space. Overly neat. Too neat. Shelves lined the walls, filled with either meticulously colour-coded magickal components or diligently alphabetized books. Baz was scuffing more of the circle up with the toe of his boot, and Simon figured he could take the contract and hop on the bed and give it a proper look over.

It didn’t seem like a bad deal. He was a bit in dire straights about food and shelter most nights, and he knew he had a wellspring of magick he couldn’t quite tap into. Maybe this mage boy could help him figure out some of that nuance too. They could be mutually beneficial. And, as Simon read further down, there were ways to break the contract without death of either party involved. That was good. He wasn’t sure he had the stomach for death if he wanted out, if he found out Baz wasn’t the sort of person he wanted touching his magick.

He huffed again, but quieter, resting his head on the pillow he’d been provided. A pillow — Simon could die happy now. It’d been months since he’d last rested in a proper bed. Apparently Baz had managed to sneak past him when he’d been going over the details, but that made sense. Simon had never been the strongest reader, even if he was completely capable. He just required a little extra concentration to get through things.

Well, why not? He figured. He flitted his way over to Baz’s inkpots, dipped a claw in, and signed his name on the dotted line. There were worse places to end up than at someone’s side as their familiar. Besides, Basil seemed nice enough.

Simon had even gotten the blanket and pillows he was due. And a mattress! Morgana and Merlin, bless, a mattress. There were far worse fates to be tied to, and it was with that thought that Simon passed out on his newly provided bed. A not so temporary bed.

He woke to the intoxicating smell of pancakes. It’d been a bloody era since he’d had proper, fresh pancakes…

Simon slipped from the bed thoughtlessly, snatching the contract as he went and drifted his way up the stairs, following that heady smell all the way to the kitchen. “Bloody hell, that smells delightful,” Simon declared as he plopped himself down in a chair.

Baz turned to look at him.

Simon blinked cluelessly back at Baz.

They stood their like that for a moment. A long, long moment. And then Basil was pointing his spatula very threateningly in Simon’s direction. “I’m sorry, whomst the fuck?”

Simon blinked again. He looked at the contract, exactly as he remembered from the night before. He looked to Baz, also exactly as he remembered from the night before. Then Simon looked at his hands. Then down to his legs. He waved his fingers. “Oh,” He said dumbly.

Well, at least the reaction made sense.

#Carry On Countdown #COC 2023 #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on fanfiction #my writing #there's more of this to be posted

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