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purplealmonds · 10 months

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This is my tribute to the late Technoblade. I'm well over a week late to the anniversary of his passing, but I think it was worth the wait. I wanted to get this right.

The story I want to tell is of time's passage after his passing, and the set dressing of this space is a symbolic amalgamation of various aspects of his life depicting that concept.

I have a lot more to say about this painting - three pages just for the symbolism alone. If you're interested, please let me know and I'll share my analysis on a separate post! Edit: I caved. Aight, prepare for a massive info dump below the cut!

DISCLAIMERS:

Although I put a lot of research into this piece, my knowledge is likely flawed and incomplete. If I missed or misinterpreted a reference, it’s because I’m new to the Technoblade community. If I got a symbolism thing wrong, it’s because I relied on Google search for answers. I fact checked where I could. And with this analysis, I hope I can clear up any misinterpretations!

—

OVERVIEW:

There’s lots of imagery to unpack so I’ll try parsing it in a structured manner. Let’s first examine it holistically.

The story I want to tell here is of time’s passage after Technoblade’s passing. As such,the set dressing of this space is a symbolic amalgamation of that concept.

Prominently featured are the various medical equipments - a nod to the grim reality of his cancer. But let’s not linger upon that aspect of his story.

Of equal importance are the more mundane objects - his gaming setup, the couch and pillow which Floof sat upon in that one photo, the plethora of paraphernalia of branded merchandise, and references to his exploits in Minecraft. These are relics and mementos of his legacy.

All of these elements intermingle in flooded, lushly overgrown room looking out to a rose-tinted exterior. Is it dawn? Dusk? I’ll leave that interpretation up to the viewers.

The third and final component is the plant life representing his community -us. We beautify this metaphorical space with where it was once laden with tragedy. Yet, despite these riotous blooms, we never quite encroach on the bed - the empty space left behind by him.

—

SET DRESSING:

Much care was taken in selecting the blossoms and placing them in symbolically significant locations. And this neatly transitions us into the analysis individual details.

Foreground:

In the foreground, ivy crawls through a lamp and white clovers thrive atop a pile of pillboxes. The lamp base, once a shining bronze-like finish, is heavily tarnished. The lampshade is overgrown with moss and ivy. Even if the greenery has yet to damage the electric wiring, the damp surely has finished the job. Even if the bulb is replaced, the body is too far gone. The light’s never coming on again.

I was initially put out that my painstakingly 3D modeled pillboxes became entirely obscured, but I think it works in favor of the piece’s overarching theme: the beautiful wilds overtaking a space that once reeked of the desperate fight to prolong life.

White clover blossoms meaning “thinking of you” is paired with the ivy meaning “everlasting devotion”. It’s an apt combination. It has been over a year since his passing, and we still remember and carry on his legacy.

Nestled amongst the foliage is Techno’s compass. It was once used to hunt him down in the Dream SMP. But now, it’s an odd comfort. Even though he’s no longer with us, he’s still somewhere far, far away– or is he? The original idea was for the needle to point heavenwards, but it is currently pointing…sideways? I’ll get to the reasoning a bit later.

The Flood:

Moving deeper into the space, we hit the floodwaters. These once turbulent currents are now tranquil enough to nourish this verdant place. The thriving plant life hides much of this darkness. It is beautiful, hopeful, even. But always bittersweet, because everything that grows here is laced with an old sorrow.

White lotus rise from the murky depths. That is us, overcoming our grief. Breaching the surface, we gain a new vantage point to contemplate this loss. Perhaps we can also find a more comforting perspective of it.

Submerged amongst the blossoms is a rusted oxygen machine. I wanted to decorate the machine with stickers, much like one would personalize a plaster cast for a broken limb. It is deliberate that the “Technoblade Never Dies” sticker is in shadow, while the “So Long, Nerds" is in light.

Immediately to the right was meant to be a box of assorted Technoblade apparel. But then I flooded the space for narrative reasons, rendering that idea unusable. I eventually converted it into a Welch’s Fruit Snacks box, because apparently Technoblade liked them? It’s one of the shallower references here but it is what it is.

And finally, there is a little cameo floating somewhere in the waters. An Easter egg, if you will. I wonder if you can find it?

Furnishings from Home:

I found the couch and Technoblade’s gaming setup during my trawl through the Technoblade Reddit page for reference photos. Balancing this space full of impersonal medical equipment with more personalized belongings is grounding. These areas insert familiarity in this strange environment.

Gaming Setup:

The gaming setup is bare bones - just the monitor, keyboard, and mouse. There was no space to add more iconic elements like his Blue Yeti microphone or the steering wheel from that Minecraft challenge. Hanging above but heavily obscured by overgrowth are two framed pictures of Technoblade’s cabin and a potato minion. It is a blink-and-you-miss-it detail, placed in a dim space and requiring close examining to notice. Without the context of the rest of this environment, it is easily mistaken as generic set dressing.

That’s the point, though. This was a space where he streamed and created videos much beloved by his community. This space was the means of creation, not the creations themselves. Without the creator at the helm, this setup becomes insignificant. Does one dote over the easel on which paintings were created, or the paintings themselves? So now it sits in darkness, a footnote of Technoblade’s legacy.

Nostalgia Corner:

On the other end, we have the sold out Youtooz plushies and the Agro Pig plush from the recent merch drop sat atop the couch. If you look closely, you’ll see a Skeppy coin leaning against one of the plushies. Behind the couch is a shelf. A generic shelf, but the important bits here are the sellout bell, Youtube plaque, and vinyl figurines.

This corner of the room is nostalgic and soft. Everything is bathed in rosy pink light, and it is filled with things that are comfortingly familiar. All across the world, people in his community have these pieces of merch to remember him by.

The red poppies that also grow here have multiple meanings. It represents the battle - one against sarcoma - which was fought here. It symbolizes death, but also resilience in the face of grueling conditions. It is said that they grow in former battlefields where of fallen warriors. I believe of all the flowers here, this one best represents Technoblade.

The Hanging Mobile:

Strung up above it is a rather last minute addition to the environment - a hanging mobile fabricated from totems representing each member of the Sleepy Bois Inc. friend group. First and foremost is Technoblade’s iconic MCC crown, aptly placed at the top. Although it is untouched by the greenery, the gold and jewelry are somewhat muted and tarnished by time.

This is not the case for the objects below. TommyInnit’s music disc shines iridiscent green and purple - Cat and Mellohi merged into one. To is right is a sky-blue guitar pick with the LoveJoy logo engraved onto it for Wilbur Soot. And finally, below it all is Philza’s Friendship Emerald - sparkling and refracting light - with Elytra feathers fastened at the bottom. They, suspended and isolated from everything, maintain a pristine vibrancy which strongly contrasts against everything else in this space.

IV Stand:

Next to the computer setup is the IV stand. It sustains life which is incapable of continuing on without intervention. The butterfly milkweed growing on it, in contrast, says “let me go.” The latter, overtaking the tangle of tubes and powered off patient monitor, is victorious. The hooks stand rusted, and the IV bag empty from disuse.

Sat atop the patient monitor but almost blending into the walls is a pig figurine featured in Dream’s latest music video. It stands on a high perch, yet is unassuming as to direct focus on Technoblade, or rather, his absence.

Hanging from the wired basket is an air freshener tag. If you look on the official website, this is one of the only products which has what I can only call interesting flavor text. Most are merely descriptions and specs of the product. To quote it verbatim:

“Yes, this is a real product. And no, this ‘air freshener’ has no discernible fragrance. ‘Why’ you ask? Because Mr. Technodad and our team agreed this was exactly the sort of air freshener Alex would have found hilarious.”

As morbid as it sounds, I feel like this air freshener tag would not have existed before Technoblade’s passing. It is so unlike any other merchandise I’ve seen in any other branded merchandise store. It’s like an inside joke, secretly shared within the descriptions for the world to eventually discover.

Window:

Unlit candles line the window sill - the aftermath of a candlelight vigil. It is a versatile symbol. It raises awareness of a disease or illness. It pays tribute the dead. Judging from the melted wax dribbling down the candle shafts and the wall below (the opacity was reduced so it looks less like bloodstains), this has been done many times over. But there is so much more candle to burn, representing the people still continuing this ceremony, albeit in the privacy of their own homes.

Above the candles are some broken blinds. When grieving, it would have been so easy for Mr. Technodad to hide away from the world in his grief. It’s understandable, to give into that primal urge to flee from prying eyes when he’s at his most vulnerable. He had the difficult task of reading out his son’s final farewell to us. This barrier between him and us dismantled by this gesture so we can remember Technoblade together.

Coincidentally, the window frame itself somewhat resembles the kitchen window featured in Technoblade and Technodad's cooking videos. Completely unintentional on my end, but fitting in a way since in both those videos they're pulling back the metaphorical curtains for the audience to peer into a small aspect of their private lives.

To the right of the window is a nondescript clock, forever stopped at the 6:30 as a nod to the date when the "So Long, Nerds" video was published. The minute hand is accidentally left out removed to signify that time will no longer move forward for Technoblade. In contrast, the rest of the world - represented by this space - continues to grow and change around his absence.

A wind chime hangs just outside the window. It is said that the soothing sounds produced by them is a healing balm during tumultuous times. Where there is wind there is stirred up emotions, but it is motionless on this calm, breezeless day. A rare respite, where remembrance overrides grief.

On a more amusing note, there is an interesting looking moth perched on the window glass. Upon closer inspection, the wing pattern may look somewhat familiar. In Chinese culture, when a huge moth visiting your home is the embodiment of your recently deceased loved one checking on you. Remember the compass in the foreground? Well, here’s why it is pointed sideways instead of upwards. This idea came up rather organically during a VC session in the R/Technoblade Discord server. My handful of viewers and myself affectionately dubbed this doofy looking moth TechnoMoff!

Venturing further beyond the windows, ferns grow with wild abandon. They represent eternal youth, and from a certain point of view, he will remain youthful forever at the age of 23. He lives on through us carrying on his legacy and spreading his story.

Everything outside is tinged with pink. After someone dies, we start seeing them less as a person and more as a legacy. It is the natural course of things to start seeing the deceased through rose-tinted lenses - hence the artificially pink hue of the outside contrasting with the more grounded color palette of the inside.

Bed:

And now we circle back to the centerpiece of this entire composition: the bed and the things that surround it.

In front of the bed is an over-bed table with a single object: an incense bowl filled to the brim with burnt sticks of incense. A simple shrine for Technoblade. In Chinese culture, we light incense at the altar to honor our loved ones. We may live separate lives and not cross paths often, but we all come together to leave our marks through this ritual. It is proof that he is still very much loved and missed by us all.

The bariatric bed frame is typically seen in hospitals. It allows the patient to comfortably sit up or recline without expending valuable energy. Encased in this frame is something more personal - the mattress and cushions which Technoblade laid upon in his photo with the Youtube plaque. Their unique patterning is a foil for the impersonal receptacle it is caged in. It is spotlit by the window light, emphasizing its emptiness. Not a single blossom dares to encroach upon this space, because to do so would be to erase the space where Technoblade last resided. Like I mentioned before, this is story is about the space around him as much as it is about him.

Cradling this bed frame are several flowers. Rosemary and forget-me-not’s for remembrance. Appropriate, given its proximity to the bed. Morning glories, for resilience. That’s us, again. For a while, we meander and spread in the upper walls of this space, avoiding the floodwaters which symbolize grief. But eventually, we gather the strength to meander down to the bed, where grief was the strongest.

—

CONCLUSION:

There is that cheesy quote from that one Marvel TV show – “What is grief, but love persevering?” While this reframes our perception of dealing with loss, grief is not some thing that should linger. The absence of grief does not equate to the lack of love. Instead, I would like you to consider this: remembrance is love persevering. And with our combined perseverance, Technoblade will never truly die.

#technoblade #Technoblade never dies #Technoblade fanart #techno fanart #sleepy bois inc #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot #qsmp chayanne #skeppy #dream #mcyt #mcyt fanart #fan art #purplealmonds #2023

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icharchivist · 1 year

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oh right when is cybirds going to lift the regionlock on the 6th play songs on spotify? and the Golden Encore and the few a3ders songs that are still locked?

it still baffles me we’re getting all the new songs just fine but the 6th play songs are still locked like. let me in?

#the Citron&Masumi duet played in the live and it hit me that i barely listen to it bc they're just. not available on the playlist.#WAIT I THINK THE VERSION OF THE LIVE I FOUND HAD SCENES BEING HEAVILY EDITED???#WITH THE SONGS BEING CUT DOWN?#im going to cry can't have shit in here #ichablogging a3live

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grandlinedreams · 7 months

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“What,” Mihawk begins, “is that.”

It’s not so much a question as a demand for an answer and even with as mild as his tone is, you still have to take a moment to find your confidence again, adjusting your grip on the object in question.

“A kitten,” you answer. The kitten in question is little more than a mess of jet black fur and a pair of small, pointed ears that dangles limply in your hold, mewing as Mihawk stares at it. “He kind of looks like you, doesn’t he?”

Mihawk’s eyes narrow a fraction. True, the kitten is black like his hair, and the pair of eyes that peer at him are round and the same shade of gold as his own – but that, in his opinion, is where the similarities stop. “Hardly.”

“Hardly,” you echo, pitching your tone deeper in playful mockery as you bring the kitten closer to your chest, scratching underneath his chin until he starts purring. “Don’t be so grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy.”

You kiss the top of the kitten’s head, humming at the tickle of soft fur against your lips. “Says you.” The kitten mews in agreement – not so much at your words, but at the attention you’re currently giving him.

“Where did you find it?”

“Him,” you correct.

Mihawk stares at you and were it not undoubtedly beneath him, he’d roll his eyes at your persistence. “Where did you find him,” he amends, and you grin. Mihawk looks less than amused. “I hope you weren’t wandering around again. The humandrills–”

“Are friendly,” you cut in, “and I can handle myself. You know that. And besides, it gets lonely when you’re off doing who knows what.” You really don’t know what he gets up to when he leaves Kuraigana, only that he’s unscathed every time and recounts (undoubtedly heavily edited) events with an ever present air of boredom in his voice when you ask. “But to answer your question, I don’t know how he even survived long enough to end up here, but he was out near the shore.” You snuggle the little kitten to your face again. “Poor thing almost died.”

For a moment, Mihawk wonders if he should fancy himself jealous of how much attention the cat is getting from you, but that’s beneath him too – besides, he’s the one that you sleep next to at night.

“I’m keeping him,” you say and Mihawk watches you, head tilting as he arches an eyebrow in question.

“You are?”

“Yes,” you answer firmly, and the kitten offers his own opinion in the form of an indignant mewl, followed by a yawn of tiny, sharp white teeth and brief glimpse of a pink tongue before he tucks himself against you.

Mihawk sighs. “Very well. But he is not sleeping in the bedroom with us.”

(The kitten does, in fact, end up sleeping in your shared bedroom. And Mihawk decides that yes, even if it’s just a little bit, he is indeed jealous of that tiny kitten.)

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #–ml: mihawk.

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thesmollestsnek · 11 months

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Death echoes

So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.

Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.

So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD

Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself.

~~~~~~~

“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”

“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”

“Kid...”

“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”

Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”

He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”

A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”

Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”

“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it.

“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”

A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.” And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.

~~~~~

I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’

#did some minor edits to fix typos and make things flow better when i went back in to add the hyperlink #that being said dont expect too much i wrote this in a bit of an inspiration frenzy lol #and barely edited it after the fact #the snek rambles #the snek writes #snippit #dp x dc #danny phantom #john constantine #idk wtf else to tag this #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #crossover

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toxicanonymity · 7 months

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stop playing

3.8k, (dark) slasher!Joel x f!reader

Ty @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the slasher joel edit and movie poster. And @iamasaddie for the big girthy wrench and the mood board on the master list.

slasher Joel master list | spotify playlist

SUMMARY: Joel fixes and returns your car, pays you a visit, and stuffs you full of his cock and more. WARNINGS: I8+ unsafe dubcon P in V, creampie, m masturbation, crude language and degradation, knifeplay, superficial injury (cut), incidental pussy slap, fisting (be the change you want to see in the world), penetration with wrench A/N: If something sounds unappealing to you, please quietly skip the fic. This blog is kink-positive. Comments that could have a kink shaming effect may be removed, regardless of intent. Asks: @xdaddysprincessxx and 🔧 anon, ty

“Not here to make love to ya, sweetheart.” His cock twitches against your hand. ”That what ya want?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

You shake your head no, catching his scruff against your cheek. “want ya to fuck me.”

He chuckles, then puts on an air of sympathy. “Shame. . .that’d be nice. . .” His breath hot on your ear. “Shouldn’t’a left me.” You try to move and he pins you by your wrists.

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

Joel is in his garage, under your car, finishing up. Yeah, he didn’t just tow it, he fixed it. Bet you're an ungrateful bitch about it. You're a brat, but god damn, you can take a dick. He’s never had anyone sink right down and ride him like that. He vividly recalls the sensation of being swallowed up. As blood rushes south, his cock strains his jumpsuit, still crusty with your combined juices. Every time he sees or smells it he thinks of how it all leaked out of your used up hole. He wipes his bicep on his forehead, then palms his growing bulge. He manages to ignore it while he finishes the repair, then rolls out from under your car.

He sits up on the roller, holding his big, heavy wrench against his thigh. He looks down at his arousal. He wonders if he's getting a beer belly as he sucks in his stomach to better see his engorged bulge. He unzips his jumpsuit all the way and pulls his T-shirt out from sticking under his pecs. Then he stands up with a groan and adjusts himself.

He sets his wrench aside and goes to the dingy old bathroom. His mom tried to make it nice, so there's soap and lotion and a little candle, but it hasn't been cleaned in forever. In the filthy mirror, he has motor oil all over his hands, and some on the side of his face. He takes his sleeves off and presses the hardness in his jumpsuit against the low sink as he washes up, then he takes his cock out and holds it in his hand. It's so fat he can barely get his own massive hand around it if he squeezes. You took it like a cock taking queen. He imagines that's what you are as he pumps the lotion into his hand.

He begins to stroke his raging erection and stares at himself in the mirror as he does it. The mirror lets him see a lot. His jumpsuit is hanging down, mostly out of the picture, the hems of his sleeves skimming the nasty floor as he strokes his cock. His hair is messed up. He rakes his free hand back through it. His forehead is sweating again as he runs his fist up and down his length. Cheeks are flushed, lips slightly parted, head tilted back as he's beginning to grunt softly with the stroke of his hand. His white t-shirt, stained with oil, stretches over his strong chest and little belly with a little dip of looser fabric in between, under his pecs. His sleeves barely contain his arms and his forearm flexes as he jerks it.

With his other hand, he takes his boxers under his massive balls so he can see those too. He tilts his head down, casting a shadow over his eyes, mouth hanging open, breathing heavily. He wets his lips and moans approaching the finish. He looks at his cock in the mirror and pictures you sucking his balls. Nasty little sex kitten sucking them so good. For a moment, picturing you between his knees, he feels like you want him. . . until his thoughts are jolted back to how you left him. His jaw clenches and he wonders what to do with you. When you're only good for one thing, you better be real good at it. Cunt. He jerks himself thinking about how you probably take so many cocks. He wonders how much you could take.

He takes a deep breath, his cock twitches in his hand, and he groans as he cums into the sink. As he finishes coming, he makes eye contact with himself in the mirror. Under his weathered face, for a moment he sees a younger, sadder man before his nose twitches into a snarl and he rinses the cum down the sink.

As he goes to leave the bathroom, half his footsteps are clicking. Something is stuck in the bottom of his work boot. He lifts his foot to look at the sole, and he pries a tooth from between the rubber ridges. He tosses it in the toilet on his way out.

. . .

Joel changes out of his uniform, showers, and puts on jeans and a tight t-shirt. It’s dusk when he gets in your driver's seat and starts your car. Empty coke bottles, goody's pain relief, fast food receipts, empty packets of gum. There’s plenty of personal information about you, too. He could take you tonight, if he felt like it. Fuck you and dump you. Oh, not figuratively, literally. If he feels like it. If only you hadn’t left him. . . he would’ve let you go.

He pulls up google maps and types in your address. It’s a long ass drive, an hour and a half, but might be worth it, he thinks. “What the hell were ya doin’ out here,” he mutters to himself. He knows the answer– whoring. Of course your gas tank is empty. He’ll fill it up on your dime. He hasn’t decided what to do with you when he puts the car in reverse. He'll figure it out on the way.

As he's driving off, the heavy wrench slides off the roof of your car. "God damnit," he mutters and stops to pick it up. Before he gets back in the car, he pats his pocket and makes sure he has his switchblade. He calls his mom on the way to your house and tells her he needs to swing by for his extra key to the car. She asks him to stay for dinner.

—---------------

It’s only been a few days. You’ve been driving Joel’s car. You know he’ll come for it eventually, and that’s okay, you think. Depending on how pissed he is about you leaving him handcuffed on his bed and stealing his car. You think about him constantly, and it always turns you on. It’s making you irritable, living in a constant state of arousal. What’s wrong with you? He could kill you. He might still. And yet, you have half a mind to drive all the way back to his sad little camper just to chain him up and ride him again.

You’re home alone, watching TV when you hear a car park outside, then a car door closes. You look out the window and it’s your car. Your heart flutters. Then you hear another car door open and shut–Joel’s car–and the engine starts. He drives away in his car without so much as a glance toward your house. Your heart sinks and you’re disgusted with yourself.

You go out to your car and there’s a piece of paper under your windshield wiper. You unfold it and it says, “Take care, sweetheart.” There’s something on the other side. You turn it over. It’s a drawing. You can’t tell what it is until you turn it to the side and a chill runs down your spine–not just from the content, but the quality. It looks like a kid could have drawn it, but it’s so crude. The focal point is a detailed vagina, clit, hole, labia, and all, liquid leaking out of it. In much less detail, there are two legs spread with knees up, tits, and behind the tits, a picasso type face you presume is supposed to be you, based on the hair. Uneven eyes.

Something’s wrong with him. And, of course, something’s wrong with you–Because your heart sank when he drove away, but it sank more when you read, “take care.”

—

You think about him even more after that. Non-stop. You convince yourself he was never going to kill you. He was trying to scare you. It was a fucked up game. You wash the grisly t-shirt he gave you–rendered pointless with slashes through the front, and stains. You wear it and wash it and wear it and wash it, and it’s so fucked up.

A week or two later, you’re taking a walk in leggings and a tank top. You’re walking by some woods in an undeveloped stretch of your neighborhood, right before a big, vacant lot when you get an unsettling feeling. You jog the rest of the way home.

When you’re standing in front of your fridge cooling off with a cold glass of water, you hear metal on metal and look over to see your sliding glass door being pried open. Joel’s imposing form pauses in the doorway. Then he turns and tosses the crowbar outside. He shuts the door behind him. He’s holding a huge wrench and his other hand is flexing around nothing, fingers slightly wiggling. He’s wearing his mechanic jumpsuit and a scowl.

His voice is deep and gravely. “Miss me, sweetheart?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask as his boots thud ominously toward you. He’s so imposing, muscles begging for more room in his uniform. His nose twitches one side of his mouth into a smile, then he tilts his head and wets his lips. He lifts the wrench and lets the end of it fall heavily into his other massive hand. You stand frozen against the kitchen counter. You let him pin you to it with his hips, and that's not all. He puts the wrench down with a loud clunk on the faux granite. Then he plants his massive hands on either side of you, caging you to the counter. He presses his pelvis into you and the warmth of his semi-hard bulge makes you tingle. His belly presses into your middle. Your heart races. You wedge your hand between you and palm his bulge.

He laughs, nearly silently, then brings his mouth to your ear. “M’not here to make love to ya, sweetheart.” His cock twitches against your hand. ”That what ya want?”

You shake your head no and say, “want ya to fuck me.”

He chuckles, then puts on an air of sympathy. “Shame. . .that’d be nice. . .” His breath hot on your ear. “Shouldn’t’a left me.”

You try to move and he pins you by your wrists. You knee his groin and when he falls backward, you run around the counter. He comes after you with a switchblade. You trip over a pair of shoes and he grabs a fistful of your shirt on your way to the floor, lessening your impact. You’re face-down on the carpet.

“Stop fuckin’ playin’,” he growls. He doesn’t let go of your shirt. He stabs through the fabric and slices all the way down to the bottom hem, then turns the blade upward and cuts the collar in one quick snap. You squirm under him. He puts all his weight on you, pushing his hard bulge against your ass. Then he lifts his pelvis off you, straddles your thigh, and shoves his hand between your legs, digging between your mound and the carpet to feel you through your leggings. You know they’re already damp. Joel opens and shuts his hand over your cunt, plucking the stretchy fabric out from your body and snapping it back against your pussy. Then he gets up on his knees, pulls the spandex out one last time, and stabs through it. He rips a big hole in the crotch. And he keeps stabbing and slicing at the fabric between your legs and then he nicks your inner thigh and you yelp.

“sorry, sweetheart.” he backs down your leg and gives the booboo a kiss. He slices the seat of your leggings more carefully, ripping them all the way open, then he presses the flat of the knife against one buttcheek, separating your crack more.

“Stop playin’,” he reminds you.

“Okay,” you whimper and stop fighting.

He puts his weight back on top of you, with his belly on your back and his knees straddling your thighs and his cock hard against your ass. He cups your exposed cunt and growls when he feels how wet you are. “There’s my sex kitten,” he murmurs. “Pussy’s dyin’ for it, ain’t she.”

“Just fuck me already,” you whine, disturbed by what a lack of sexual interest could possibly mean for you. Then you taunt, “Unless you can’t.”

He runs his thick fingers through your wet folds, then pushes one, then two, then three fat digits into you. He slowly pumps them and his cock swells against you. You twitch around him.

He sighs and says, “Course I can” and unzips his jumpsuit. “Only ‘cause I feel like it.” He spits loudly, then notches at your entrance and he’s even wider than you remember. He shoves himself into you, parting your core with his absurd girth.

“Mmmfuck,” he grunts. He retreats slightly then plunges in and you gasp as he bottoms out. “That what ya want?”

You get wetter around his cock and he begins to fuck you at a steady rhythm with your face pressed into the carpet. His hand engulfs the back of one knee to nudge it on the carpet, spreading your legs open more. He grunts as he pounds into you with the thickest cock you’ve ever had, even thicker than you remember.

“Nasty girl,” he rasps as the heft of his cock splits you open. “Take it like a real cockslut, don’t ya?”

Your nipples harden at his words and you whimper.

“But damn you can ride it, too,” he pants.

He grunts and moans as he buries his girth in you.

“More,” you whine, unsure why you have the constant urge to provoke him.

He pounds you harder and faster, grunting like an animal with his broad cock stabbing into you, massive balls slapping your skin through the tatters of your torn leggings.

“More,” you beg.

“Careful,” he warns. “Cause I’ll give ya more.”

His hips snap into you, stuffing you so full of cock, rearranging your guts.

“More,” you pant and his hips slow. He thrusts his fat cock into you slower then takes it out entirely. The void he leaves is jolting and the air is cold on your dripping cunt.

“Fuckin’ warned ya,” he bites. “Turn over and keep your mouth shut.” He forces you onto your back so you can see him. He slices through your sleeves and collars and you flinch with the knife near your neck. He tears your shirt off. “Give ya more,” he mutters. He straddles your right leg so his right hand is closest to your cunt. He slaps your pussy and rubs his flattened fingers around in your ample slick. Then he wipes it on his cock. He repeats the action until he’s satisfied with his lube. Then he spits on his cock again and slowly strokes himself with his left hand.

He pumps his cock with his left hand, and with his right hand, he puts three fingers in a triangular formation and wedges them into your cunt while it’s still stretched from his cock. He pushes his three fingers in and out, curling them, moving them side to side, stretching you slowly. Your body catches up with him, and your cunt gets even wetter. You’ll probably shrivel his fingertips at this rate. He pulls his fingers almost all the way out, then adds his pinky to the others and begins to wedge all four of them into you, clustered together barely inside your entrance. He puts his thumb on your clit. All four of his fat digits push into you and you moan.

“Ooh she likes it,” he coos. “Ever had your gash this full?” You spasm at his crudeness. “Mm?” He thumbs your clit and keeps stroking himself with his left hand.

You shake your head no. His four move in and out of you, and his eyes glue to your cunt, watching you take them. He thumbs your clit faster and your back arches. Your cunt relaxes more, like you want to swallow him whole.

He scowls, sliding all four of his fingers in and out of you as your body keeps you moist. Then he slides them out and pauses. He spits on his thumb, despite how sopping wet you are. He wedges his thumb between his fingers, so his thumb and pinky are touching each other, clustered with the three middle digits. Then he begins to push his hand into you. You groan at the stretch. His hand is massive, and gorgeous. You look at the other hand wrapped around his cock. It’s veiny–they both are, the hand and his cock. He adjusts his position and his massive balls rest on your thigh.

“Wanted more, didn’t ya?” he asks. He’s only buried his fingers to the second knuckle, with the bottom half of each digit still outside your cunt. He subtly twists his hand from side to side wriggling it into you. “Yeah, you can take it,” he says. Thank god you’re so shamefully wet for this psycho. “That’s my sex kitten.” He lets go of his cock and plants his hand on the floor for leverage, leaning over you. His hand pushes further into you, and you feel his major knuckles prodding at your poor, stretched hole. He pauses as though taking in the sight. He moans and his eyelids are half shut watching your dripping cunt stretch obscenely around his hand. “Fuck that’s hot,” he breathes, then he pushes the rest of his hand into you.

The stretch burns when his major knuckles crest your hole, with the heel of his palm still outside you. You whimper and he keeps going. He pushes his hand in, making your hole grow even wider. Your cunt stretches and swallows his hand—his whole hand. The heel of his palm nudges your g-spot, and his knuckles push against your walls. He’s buried to the wrist now. “Fuck, yeah,” he breathes. “God damn. . .hungry, ain’t she?” He pushes in a little further. Your walls hug his massive hand and don’t want to let go. You’re shocked by the moisture just pouring into your core, like your body wants more, more, more.

“What’s wrong with ya, huh?” You wish you knew. “Lemme ruin your clothes, ruin your hole.” He breathes heavier, grinds his cock against your thigh, and keeps the hand inside you mostly still. He clenches the hand inside you and his breathing falters. He slightly twists his hand. He starts to withdraw it, then pushes it back in before the knuckles emerge from your hole. He does this a few times, partly out and back in, and your walls squeeze him. You writhe under him. Then, he begins to wriggle his hand out of you. “Fuck, you should see this, baby.” He sits up straighter and takes his cock in his left hand again. “Ohh, fuck,” he breathes. “Spread wide open around my hand.” his thumb slips out first and he puts it back on your clit. You whimper.

“Yeah, ya like that?” he rubs you with his thumb, four fingers still inside you. Your hips lift into him. “Good girl,” he whispers, rubbing you rhythmically. You look at his fat cock in his hand, leaking precum, and you want it back so bad. “Not yet,” he shakes his head. He moves his four fingers inside you and thumbs your clit, watching between your legs with his mouth hanging open, saliva pooling at the corners of his lips. The tension builds and builds with his thumb on your clit until you begin to clench around his hand and he groans as your walls clamp down on him. “Ohhh,” he moans. “Good girl, oh fuck.” When you’ve finished spasming around his hand, he slides it out the rest of the way. When it’s out, he gives a low whistle and lightly taps your cunt with the backs of his fingers. “Don’t worry,” he reassures you. “Ain’t gonna leave ya empty.” He picks up his massive wrench and admires the wide end of it, a little bigger than his fist.

You’re dumbstruck. It’s nasty, it’s gross, but your body wants it, really bad. It’s like a dream where you can’t make yourself talk. You don’t move. You just look at it, clit throbbing as he brings the fat end of the wrench to your deflated, weeping cunt. He uses his left hand to spread you open and hold you open, then the cold metal makes you wince and your whole body erupts in goosebumps. His left hand helps, sticking his fingers in with the wrench and using them to tug your entrance around it as he wriggles the wrench into you. He’s gentler than you expect. He works the wide end of the tool all the way into you. It feels so dangerous and crude, but at least it’s smooth. It doesn’t scratch, thank god. It’s a little awkward, the way parts of it jut out, but at least the metal is smooth. And having it inside you is somehow exhilerating

“And just like that,” he marvels, “ya took it.” He raises his eyebrows. “Damn.”

“It’s fucking cold,” you complain.

He begins to fuck you with it in short little thrusts, watching your cunt take it. You’re stretched around the metal. The danger, the obscenity of it turns you on, but you find yourself staring at his cock, wanting it back. He lazily strokes himself with his left fist. He follows your eyes and says, “Had enough, huh?”

You nod.

“Want my big fat cock back?”

You nod.

“Alright, kitten.” He carefully wedges the wrench out of you and inhales sharply watching it emerge obscenely from your stretched out hole. He watches your body begin to pull itself back together as he puts the wrench down and gets between your legs. He lines up and shoves all the way into you, sliding easily to the hilt. He begins to rail you unrestrained. “Not too bad,” he pants, sliding in and out of you easily. This time, he feels like an average sized man. “Fuck,” he breathes, already close. “Don’t worry. Won’t leave ya empty.” He slows down a little and seems to be holding his breath. “fill ya up now,” he pants. “Much as this cumsock can take.” Your cunt twitches. “That’s right.”

He slams into you and erupts, pulsing massively into your worn-out hole, and a second climax sneaks up on you. Your hips lift into his and he groans. He hovers over you as he cums, and you admire his face, barely keeping your eyes open with waves of pleasure crashing through your core.

When his balls are empty. He hovers over you for a moment, gives a subtle but demented smile, eyes sparkling. Then he pulls out.

“Whew.” He sits back on his heels, and tucks his massive cock back into his jumpsuit. Your legs are still spread. He brings his face close to your cunt and says “all fucked out.” He gives it a pat with the backs of his fingers again. “Mmm.” He zips up his suit and braces his hands on his thighs. He stands up with a groan.

“Why did you come here?” you ask him.

He ignores the question, picks up the wrench, and leaves you on the floor.

----

Thank you so much for reading and interacting!! Love you guys. Happy Friday the 13th, and Happy Halloween.

#dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #slasher!joel #slasher!joel ☠️#slasher!joel miller #serial killer!joel miller #tw dubcon #toxicanonymity ☠️

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ashwii · 4 months

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Masterpost WEEEE ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

Hi :D I'm AshWii, and I make lots of fan art -w- I'll edit this masterpost depending on what I'm working on and/or I'm most interested in at the time. Mostly, I'm drawing TMNT content right now.

General Tags

All of my ROTTMNT works

All of my TMNT works

All of my VLD works

All of my Klance works

All of my OC works

General Artworks

All art I've ever posted (doodles, renders, and more)

Just my doodles and sketches

Just my finished and/or rendered artworks

Art tutorials and/or art advice

Personal favorites

Text Posts and Misc.

"Ash Rambles" (text posts)

"Ashask" (ask box posts)

"Ash Polls" (polls I've made)

Fanart people have made for me!

Personal Projects

Celestial Au artworks

TMNT:SN artworks

Night Time (ROTTMNT sona) artworks

If there is anything else you would like available on this tag list, let me know :D

More Info + Tags On My Personal Projects Under The Cut

Includes Celestial Au, TMNT:SN, and Night Time!

Celestial Au

All celestial au artworks

Celestial au info

Celestial au FAQ (masterpost)

My "rottmnt celestial au" is an au where the turtles are portrayed as different celestial bodies. Leo embodies the stars, Donnie embodies the moon, Raph embodies the sun, and Mikey embodies the comets. No real lore here, mostly just fun shenanigans!

TMNT Sona

"ash sona"

All Night art/posts

All "sona fam" posts

An introduction to Night

This is Night Time, my rottmnt sona! He was made in early 2023 when rottmnt sonas were everywhere XD He's heavily based off of my celestial au turtles — Star!Leo, in particular, felt to me like he was more or less already my rottmnt sona. However, it felt strange to make an "au Leo" my sona, so I tweaked him some. Night is the embodiment of night sky and all of the celestial bodies, not just the stars. He also has his own and unique personality, and his own way of thinking (as opposed to Star!Leo, who's just regular Leo with a star theme). Night is generally pretty quiet and collected. He has the vibes of an older, formal man. He enjoys his solitude and he is not a fan of talking to other people — he enjoys being alone with his night sky. However, when he's in the presence of others... he's a bit more of a prick and an asshole XD. He's very much and introvert and has a low tolerance for bs.

idiot son by @viverrz

But you know... he can be a softie to others at times -w-

other idiot son by @daedelweiss

TMNT: Splattered Neon

all tmnt:sn artworks

tmnt:sn information

Music and composition by @jokingmaiden

TMNT:SN is my own tmnt version :D I made my own designs for the boys and for the rest of the main cast, along with some other characters that are coming out soon :D If I'm being honest however, I still don't have a solid enough of a plot-line that can be put into a synopsis. I do however have a lot of bits and info about where I want everything to kinda go and what I want to do, and all of that information can be found in "tmnt:snINFO."

#masterpost #rottmnt #tmnt #ash rambles #rottmnt celestial au #night sona #tmnt:sn #ashart

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yayayxs · 5 months

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Oops

Summary: Bada exposes your guy’s relationship on live “accidentally”

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

Fluff

A/N: I’ve already made a fic like this but another one wouldn’t hurt and I’ve been dyinggg to write about this for so longgg.

Just a small little fic for y’all :3

“I’m sooo boreddd” Bada whined as she cuddled up next to you, smelling your signature scent (enter smell of your choice) on your clothes. Her hair soft against your neck.

You giggled and kept scrolling on your phone, liking edits of your girlfriend and other pictures of Bada. You smiled at how gorgeous she looked all the time.

Bada shuffled a bit on the couch noticing how she wasn’t getting your attention and how stuck you were on your phone, smiling at something, she furrowed her eyebrows.

“What are you looking at that’s making you giggle and kick your feet?” She asked sitting up, you looked at her as she had a cute bothered face on, you flipped your phone as Bada was met with a picture of her.

“You duh, who else have you seen make me giggle and kick my feet?” You asked

Bada stayed silent.

You let out a hum.

“Exactly.”

“Okay but I’m right here? You don’t have to look at your phone so see my beautiful face” She whined, frowning as she cuddled against you once more, comforted by the fact no other woman was making you act that way, that wasn’t her.

“Yeah but these people have crazy talent editing you like that.” You said as another Bada edit popped up on your feed, music blearing from your speaker as you liked the edit.

Bada rolled her eyes sarcastically.

You pecked her cheek and smiled.

God, she was in love with you.

If she would have gotten the engagement ring she customized just for you a week ago, she swear she would propose to you right now.

Suddenly two voices could be heard from your phone and then music. It was a edit of both of you, with #(your couples name). You automatically licked it with no hesitation. Bada looked towards your phone as she stopped playing with your hair.

“Ooh I like that one” she said.

“Me too, it’s my favorite one so far” you said, then you opened the comments.

Let’s just say it was a mix.

“She’s pretty but not pretty enough for Bada 😕”

“Yeah I don’t think Bada would date someone like her…”

“There’s no way they could be together, they don’t even have chemistry”

Let’s just say hate comments were slowly over flowing the positive comments.

Badas eyes widened as these random people were commenting on your guy’s private relationship. Quickly she snatched your phone from your grasp before you could keep reading them.

“Stupid people, don’t even know what they’re talking about…” Bada mumbled angrily.

You hugged Bada, and smiled.

“You’re cute when youre mad” you said and pinched her cheek jokingly. She only stared at you with a serious expression on her face and read “are you serious?”

“What? Those little hate comments don’t affect me they don’t know nothing about-“ your voice was cut off when Bada scrolled to your instagram account.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her actions.

“Babe what are you doing?”

She quickly clicked the camera icon and then pressed “Start Live”

Before you could even react she immediately kissed you in-front of the camera, with the instagram live started as she held the camera up to your guy’s faces.

You started to really get into it before you realized what exactly you were doing.

You were live making out with Bada, who you two haven’t even confirmed your relationship, in front of thousands of people.

You quickly snapped out of it reaching for your phone back from Badas grasp and ended the live. You breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath.

“Why did you-“

Again, Bada leaned in kissing you before you could finish what you were saying.

“My hand slipped, sorry.”

This is short asf and rushed but hope y’all liked itttt lmk if y’all want more Bada fics and send me requests pls!!

#lee bada x reader #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #bada imagine

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depression-napping · 17 days

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My favorite thing about FFVII:Rebirth is we FINALLY have high quality Vincent references. 💕

This is my first time posting Vincent fan art in many years, so I’m a bit nervous. Hope you all enjoy ❤️

(Edited for a sharper image. More info below cut)

Needed an original header image and I’d been working on this off and on for a few weeks, finally at a place where I’m happy enough to post it. Painted this semi for reference / digital painting practice. I rely pretty heavily on references, it’s definitely my comfort zone… (painting is really an excuse to stare at him for long periods of time lol)

Tools: Procreate / iPad 11 / Apple Pencil

Mostly painted using Ittai Manero’s thick oil paint brush set (free version here)

Time : 5hrs 12 mins

———

(Reminder to use good internet etiquette when sharing. Please do not repost or re-upload to other sites without permission. You can download to enjoy for personal use (wallpapers, avatar crops, etc) without asking first. Please do not use for commercial purposes. Reach out if you have any questions, I promise I am nice. Thank you ❤️)

#vincent valentine #ffvii rebirth #fanart #digital painting #depression-napping art #procreate #I’d like to procreate with him if you know what I mean #it’s the 13th of the month time to post Vincent fanart

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fruitmins · 7 months

Text

Agust Dad—Seven

➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry

➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au

➭warnings: slight angst + slight fluff??, mention of nausea, rushed to edit this so might have mistakes

note: it’s 1AM but I don’t careee. my masterlist is coming soon. so many people have birthday’s in October, shoutout to all the October ARMY’s 🫶🏽 thank you EVERYONE for being patient with me

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy @llallaaa @ghostlyworld @roguesthetic @captainchrisstan @bxcndd @lukeys-giggle

Pain.

Your head is pounding and thumping in your ears.

As you slowly come to, you feel nauseous and dizzy. And it only worsens when you slowly try to lift your heavy eyelids. You slowly open your eyes, your vision cloudy and your mind foggy. You try to look around the bright room, which immediately makes your headache worse as the light makes it more difficult to see.

You blink away the sleepiness from your eyes, and as your vision starts to come into focus, you realize you're lying down.

You slowly come to the realization that you're in a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and IVs. A faint buzzing noise fills your ears.

You try to move, but your body is completely paralysed. A cold breeze cuts through you, making your teeth chatter and your bones ache.

You’re confused and scared and worst of all, your memory starts to come back.

As the memories of the last few days come flooding back into your mind, you remember the overwhelming anxiety you felt. You feel the nausea increase as you remember the events before you passed out. The fans picking your body apart, speculating about your pregnancy, calling you various cruel names.

You suddenly feel cold, so cold that your teeth practically click. You shiver, your body struggling to retain some sort of warmth. A sense of dread washes over you as you think about what might have happened while you were unconscious.

Underneath all of the icy breeze, your feel some of your skin warmer than the other part of your body.

You look down in the hospital bed you’re lying in. You don’t have a blanket, so when you find the source of the warmth your eyes widen.

Yoongi is there.

Right next to you, fast asleep on your legs, his hand rests on your stomach. You don’t know how long you’ve been in the hospital, or how long he has been with you, but he looks exhausted.

i’m here now

Despite how peaceful he looks while sleeping, there are clear eye bags under his eyes. And you swear you see some dry tears on his clear skin.

Your heart leaps at the sight of Yoongi, the sight of him in tears and looking exhausted breaking your heart.

You want to call out to him, but you're unable to speak. Your throat itchy and closed up.

The machines attached to your body beep and emit various sounds as the data they measure gets recorded and updated.

Yoongi shifts slightly, his eyes opening to reveal tired and puffy eyes, the marks of a man who hasn't slept in days. He sits up slightly, his eyes widening when he looks up at you and he realizes you're awake.

My throat closes even more at the sight of him slowly waking up. It’s a dangerously beautiful sight.

His beautiful eyes fluttering as they slowly open and look at you. The slow realization that you were wake. You don’t like how your heart flutters at the thought of him worrying about you. But it does.

“Y/N..?” His voice is soft and quiet sounding relieved but heavily concerned.

“What happened?” You manage to choke out in a shaky hoarse voice, staring back at him with your own widened eyes.

Yoongi's eyes flicker with worry as he sees the state you're in. Your voice is hoarse and your throat is sore, making you sound like you've been screaming for hours.

"Y/N..." Yoongi says softly again, getting to his feet and moving next to you slightly frantic.

"I should have expected this," he mumbles, his shoulders sinking. "You were already at your limit, trying to keep our relationship a secret. I should have warned Jin or something.." he can’t even look you in the face as he talks.

“I-It wasn’t your fault..” your voice is scratchy and shriveled so you’re not surprised when he still doesn’t relax in the slightest. But he couldn’t have known this would happen.

Even though he is stood up at the side of your bed, his hand stays gently planted on your stomach.

You remember the intense pain you felt before passing out. The sharp stab you felt that left you breathless.

“I-Is the baby okay?” You ask cautiously, almost scared to hear the answer and slightly panicked. You’d never forgive yourself if anything happened.

Yoongi hesitates, looking at you before nodding carefully. "The baby seems to be okay, thankfully."

Relief washes over you, and Yoongi takes a minute to let you digest the words and let you breathe before speaking again. "The doctors wanted to run a few tests, to make sure the baby is healthy. And we did, and thankfully, the baby is safe. But you’re gonna be here for a couple days to make sure.”

Yoongi looks at you, his gaze is full of relief but behind it all, you can see the beginnings of sadness and guilt. "It's not easy, Y/N, to watch you struggle like this." He pauses to collect himself, and your heart races at his words.

After all of the early mornings you spent together, after all of the things he has done for you so far. You can’t help but feel fuzzy inside. You can’t help but feel wanted and safe around him, despite how you felt earlier into your pregnancy.

You open your mouth to speak again, but he stops you quickly. “Wait—“ he says before walking to a nearby counter and grabbing a water bottle. It’s open, but it’s still almost completely full. He had been so stressed he wasn’t drinking water..?

He gets up and hands it to you, before sitting back down in the chair that he was by your legs. You quickly gulp down the water, clenching your thirst and your dry throat.

“Thank you..” you mumble with a cough as he gently takes the empty bottle out of your hands and helps you sit up. “How long have I been out for?”

Yoongi's eyes flicker as he tries to remember. "It's been a few days since we admitted you," he says carefully, trying to keep his voice gentle. "But they said you were dehydrated and exhausted, so they wanted to run some tests and keep you on observation."

“And I’ll be here for you every step of the wa—“ his voice is cut off by his phone ringing loudly. His head snaps to his pocket, an angry expression flashing on his face as he pulls it out of his pocket.

He takes a look at the caller ID and his angry quickly flashes to sadness. “It’s Jin..” he says, looking back up at you and you feel your heart get heavy.

Undoubtedly he was feeling guilty about the whole thing. He was nice to you even before the entire thing and has helped you in many ways.

He declines the call, but you can see his fingers swiftly typing away before putting it back in his pocket.

The sight of his phone brings you back to a harsh reality of what was going on while you’ve been unconscious. Or what you don’t know is going on while you’ve been unconscious.

“Have you seen..the media?” You ask in a low cautious tone. Yoongi sighs heavily in return, his head falling a bit. "Yeah," he says quietly. "The media is in a frenzy."

He shakes his head, his voice low and filled with sadness. "Twitter is going crazy. We're still a trending topic." he says softly, his tone is serious, and it sinks into your head how bad the situation might be.

"It's... not good," he says softly. "People are calling you names for keeping the baby, and they're not being very nice to me either. They're speculating how I feel about it, suggesting that I don’t care about you since I wasn’t standing next to you.“ His voice is filled with disappointment, and slight rage for accusing him of not caring for you.

You can’t help but feel guilty about the whole situation. You can’t imagine how much trouble he must be in with the company, how he must feel about his own fans turning on him.

You let out a shaky breath as you look down at your lap. Hormones kick in, and tears start to build in your eyes. You feel so overwhelmed by everything, even slightly guilty that this all took away from Jin’s big moment.

Despite being at such a low point in your life, Yoongi being here made it better.

"Hey..." Yoongi says softly, noticing you cry. “Don't worry yourself with what these people say. You're doing nothing wrong. We’re gonna focus on you and nothing else.”

He smiles at you, trying to help make you feel better. "I'll get you some food and a blanket."

He stands up and heads to leave the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.

Yoongi walks back into the room minutes later, carrying a blanket over his shoulder and a small tray in his other hand. He hands you the blanket and sets the tray down next to you.

On the tray is a small container of soup, a cup of tea, and a few small pieces of bread. It's nothing special, but with the stress you've been going through, it might be what you need.

Yoongi sits down on the bed next to you and looks at you with concern. "Do you need anything else?" he asks softly.

“No, but thank you.” You say softly as you start to sip on the soup, looking down as you ate to avoid more butterflies in your stomach.

Yoongi watches you eat, his eyes flickering with concern as he studies the way you move. You look so frail and exhausted, and he hates seeing you like this.

"It's no problem," he says, his tone light and calming.

He looks at you with a small smile, his face expressing the feeling of satisfaction that he's able to take care of you.

A couple of minutes of silence, and he doesn’t even glance down at his phone once, despite the constant buzzing.

There’s a soft knock on the door as you’re slowly eating and a nurse pops her head through the door.

Yoongi's eyes widen as he sees the female nurse walk into the room, followed by the unmistakable form of Jin behind her.

"Jin..." Yoongi says slowly in a greeting, looking over at him. He looks almost as bad as Yoongi, if not worse. You notice how exhausted Jin looks. His eyes are dull and lifeless, and there seems to be something weighing on him. You hated that you were right about him feeling guilty.

"Are you okay?" Jin asks gently, stepping forward into the room and closing the door.

“I’m okay, thank you.” You respond with a slight smile, trying to clear up his gloomy state but it doesn’t help much. He’s bright smile is replaced by a small weak one.

“The rest of the members wanted to come, but I told them you would probably be overwhelmed..” Jin says softly.

He looks at Jin and smiles again. "Thank you for coming all the way here just to check up on her."

Jin nods, his tone more somber as the stress of the situation settles on his shoulders. "I'm just glad you're up and alright. How are you feeling?"

“Better..” you mumble as the doctor clears her throat. “We’re gonna do an ultrasound now that you’re awake. And since you’re about 21 weeks along you have the option to know what the gender is if you want.” She says happily with a smile.

Yoongi listens to the doctor in silence, his eyes flickering towards you and the doctor. When she's done speaking, he gently touches his fingers to yours, squeezing them.

He leans close, his voice almost a whisper. "Whatever you decide, I'll support your decision," he says, his voice barely audible and filled with a bit of anxiety.

You glance away from him, hoping you’re not blushing by how close he is and your eyes find Jin’s. You take a pause to think about it before answering. “I think it should be a surprise for us.. So Jin can through an awesome gender reveal party.” You say with a warm smile.

Yoongi smiles slightly, and the tension is lifted a bit. "I think that's a good idea," he says softly.

Jin looks between the both of you with a small smile, taken aback by the request at first but you can see his eyes brighten a bit. "I'll do my best to plan the most extravagant party you've ever seen," he says, his voice filled with excitement.

Yoongi looks at the doctor, seeing if she has anything else to say before he nods towards her. "Can we begin?"

"Of course," she says, gesturing for you to move to the ultrasound machine.

Yoongi gently helps you move towards it, positioning you on the bed so the ultrasound machine can get a better image of you and the baby.

But of course, now you and Yoongi can’t see the baby to reveal it’s gender so the two of you close your eyes as she examines the baby. It feels like only a few seconds passed before she leaves the room with Jin, assuring you two that the baby was okay but telling you to take it slow for a week or two.

Yoongi moves out of the way and opens his eyes once the nurse and Jin leave, looking towards you. "How are you feeling?" he asks softly, making sure you're okay.

You notice the relief on his face as you open your eyes, and you smile slightly, happy that you're both okay and the baby's healthy.

“Better.” You say again, this time more warmly and lightly. The slight change in your tone brings a warm smile to Yoongi's face.

"Good," he says softly, taking your hand. "The baby's doing alright, thankfully. You need rest, though," he tells you, his voice calm and gentle. "We'll talk more once you've gotten some sleep."

“Okay..” You say with a small nod, knowing that you still felt weak and cold. Now that you knew the baby was well, you were gonna trend very carefully.

Yoongi looks like he wants to say something more, debating with himself before letting out a sigh. “This is gonna sound stupid, but I heard somewhere that by this stage, babies can hear.”

You glance up at him curiously as he said this. It makes you intrigued that he was even reading about it. “And I thought it would be cool, if the baby heard the song we worked on together.”

Your eyes widen at his words. You’re undoubtedly flushed now, but Yoongi can’t tell because he is to busy avoiding your eyes.

“It’s stupid.” He groans to himself once he hears your silence but you quickly snap out of your thoughts and quickly shake your head.

“No, no. It’s sweet. It might actually help me fall asleep.” You reply softly and Yoongi glances over at you, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

You let out a small chuckle at his stunned reaction. “I’m serious.” You mumble and he takes a small moment to study you before silently pulling out his phone and pulling up the song.

You lean back against the hospital bed, yawning softly as you do and seconds later you hear the song start playing. He sits down and scoots the chair closer to you, closer to your stomach.

Memories flood your head about your time working on the song with him as you close your eyes. How easy it was working with Yoongi, listening to the whole album, and of the party as a result. Memories you blocked out a long time ago.

But memories you know longer wanted to hide from. Memories you now cherished.

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being-addie · 7 months

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The Glow Up Game

Part One: Pretty on the Outside

A comprehensive guide to getting your shit together. You heard me. We are done standing on the sidelines, looking at people living their dream lives being rich and hot and happy. WE'RE DONE.

This is a long guide, filled with pointers covering EVERYTHING regarding physical glow-ups. I'll be editing it and reblogging it whenever I come across new ideas and information. It covers everything from head to toe. I mean this literally.

Note: This is for people who want to do glow up physically. It is totally your choice to do anything you want to/don't want to on this list. We live in a world full of unfair beauty standards, and instead of being angry about it, I'm going to exploit the hell out of it.

Are you ready to change yourself? Here we go.

The absolute basics: These are lifestyle changes you're going to implement. Non-negotiable.

Go exercise: Don't look at me like that. This isn't optional. Find a way to move your body so you like it and you're actually breaking a sweat. Leisurely walking on the treadmill does not count, half-hearted zumba does not count. Whatever you're doing, it has to make you SWEAT. A good figure is earned. Trust me when I say you'll feel better, and like what you see in the mirror.

Change your diet: Enough sugar. Toss the soda out, and chuck out your candy stash. You really don't need it. Craving something sweet? Make a batch of healthy, homemade dessert. Or have a piece of fruit. I'm not kidding when I say the kitchen is where you make the biggest lifestyle change. It will be HARD, but every McChicken you say no to, is good for your HEALTH. You want to live longer? Cut out the takeout and heavily processed foods.

Fix your sleep cycle: Sleep is so important, and I think people overlook it so much. All your hard work is wasted if you don't sleep well. Your skin will break out, and your body will refuse to change even if you exercise. SLEEP WELL. Create a nighttime routine and stick to it. Make sure you have at least 7 hours of sleep as a minimum.

Create a skincare routine: Take off your makeup every day. And have a good skincare routine. Cleanse, moisturize and apply whatever you usually do. Exfoliate twice a week and stop touching your face. I also drink an ABC smoothie (Apple+Beetroot+Carrot+Water). This does wonders.

Use sunscreen: I cannot stress this enough. Skin cancer is real, and it will get you if you don't wear sunscreen. Use something higher than SPF 50 and use it religiously. Make sure to get your earlobes, chest and back of your neck. Cover every inch of your skin that will be exposed to the sun.

Drink your water: 3 litres of water per day. You will be amazed at the results. Your skin will clear, your breath won't stink and you won't be dehydrated. This shit works, and there's a reason everyone recommends it. Drink your water.

Moving on to each itty-bitty detail.

Eyes: SLEEP. You want your eyes to look fresh? No pesky dark circles? Get your sleep cycle right. No more late nights. Hot girls sleep on time.

Nose: Those blackhead-looking things are natural, they're called sebaceous filaments. And, no you can't get rid of them. But you can minimize them. Cleanse, moisturize and exfoliate. Don't pick at your skin.

Lips: Don't bite them anymore, for God's sake. You're going to make sure they're chapped beyond belief. Use lip balm religiously and don't overuse lipstick. Your lips WILL get discoloured when you're older. Use a light lip tint, and lip balm/gloss.

Eyebrows: If you want to shape them, go to the hairdresser and get it done.

Facial hair: As someone with naturally dark, thick hair I have a lot of noticeable facial hair. I'm planning on getting it lasered soon. Find a way that works for you and is affordable.

Body hair: I have zero self-consciousness about my arm and leg hair, so I have no desire to shave or wax it. I do wax my underarms, because of ridiculously thick growth. Understand that this is a personal choice, and you do not have to do this if you're unwilling.

Nails: Keep them short or long, always filed and CLEAN. Do not let grime or dirt build-up underneath. Don't keep your nails painted 24/7, it will 100% lead to yellowing. Give your nails some time to breathe between every manicure. When they aren't painted, keep them filed and presentable.

Hair: I have Type 3a curly hair, so my hair routine is tailored to suit me. But what I can tell you is wash your hair at least 1x a week, use sun protectant, and oil your hair before wash day(it works). And use heat on your hair SPARINGLY. If you want to colour you can, but remember it does lead to long term damage, brittleness and bad texture. Get your hair cut every 3-4 months with a trusted hairdresser. Keep switching up hairstyles and do not stick to a single part (middle part, side part) constantly because it can lead to thinning of hair there.

Acne: STOP TOUCHING YOUR FACE I am begging you. Touching your face with grimy hands is a recipe for acne. Cleanse everyday, moisturize heavily and go to a dermatologist if it gets worse.

THIS LIST WILL BE UPDATED

Go live your best life. You deserve everything, and you shouldn't let anything stand in your way, not even yourself. Now GO, you've got shit to do.

xoxo

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dotster001 · 3 months

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For Tuna; Rook End

A/N: editing this is gonna suck, cause Tumblr is so glitchy today 😭 but as I'm sure no one is surprised...some of you have been waiting a long time for this specific ending, so I figured he deserved his own title . The next ending is a three way tie, so keep an eye out for a poll in the next couple days.

Chapters One Two Three Choose another End

“Rook Hunt, you have been chosen-”

“At last! The moment has come!”

Grim was immediately second guessing his decision. Y/N had told him all about how Rook's family had multiple villas, so he'd thought he'd be willing to put up with him the one day a year he'd have to. But the man was far too excited.

“Wonderful,” Grim said through gritted teeth. “So what we'll do is, tomorrow-”

“You're adorable, Monsieur Fuzzball. No need for that though!”

“Huh?”

“I don't need you. Au revoir!”

Rook practically skipped out of the room, singing a cheery tune to himself.

….

Grim was terrified. All day he'd been waiting for whatever Rook had planned. He'd stuck to your side all day, quivering in anxiety.

“Okay, Grim, what's wrong?” You asked, finally tired of ignoring it for the sake of his pride.

“N- nothing is wrong, human! You insult me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered.

You closed the book you'd been reading during the break in the lesson, and turned to him.

“Okay, so what's not wrong, then?”

Grim mumbled under his breath. But you soon forgot all about it, as the lights in the classroom dimmed, followed by a shower of rose petals raining down on all of you.

“Who is responsible?” Trein bellowed, but he was soon forgotten as well, as Rook appeared at the front under a single spotlight, violin music playing to his entrance.

“Bon jour!”

“What the fuck?” You whispered, quickly realizing that Grim was no longer by your side. He must have taken the opportunity to flee classes. Little rat.

“I am here because I can no longer keep silent about my affections!” He pressed one hand to his heart, the other dramatically extending to the classroom. “I am deeply in love.”

You looked to see if Trein would stop him, but just watched him sigh. Even the teacher knew to just let Rook be Rook.

“Mon Trickster! My heart beats so hard for you, it is apt to burst into a bloody mess of my adoration.”

There was now a second spotlight on you. You looked around to see where it was coming from, only to find there was no source of it.

A gust of wind picked up around Rook, making the rose petals that had fallen to the floor pick up, and swirl around him.

“Mon Tresor, say that you will allow me to forever kneel at your feet. Say that you will allow me to sing your adoration until my vocal cords tear. Say that I can write you poetry until my fingers fall off. Say-”

“God, Rook! I'd rather have you in one piece,” you cut him off with a laugh.

He stood upright with a light smile, swirling a finger in the air to turn the rose petals into a single rose. He gently kissed it, then tossed it to you across the classroom. You caught it, sniffing it and letting the aroma wash over you.

By the time you looked back up, he was standing right in front of you. You blinked, looking at the spot he was standing, then back at where he stood now. He smiled as though he was unperturbed by your confusion.

“If I stay in one piece, will you pledge your soul to me?” He asked sweetly.

“My soul? Not my heart?”

“For Seven’s sake, tell the boy whether you love him or not, so I can move on with the class,” Trein snapped.

“Okay! Rook, I like you too!” You said quickly.

“How exciting!” He snapped his fingers, and you heard the beginning of an orchestral intro.

Rook inhaled heavily, and began to sing.

“Goodness, class dismissed!” Trein shouted over the aria, which was not going to stop anytime soon. You gave Trein a pleading look. While you liked Rook, and were totally happy to start seeing him, this song sounded like it would go on for a while. Trein gave you an apologetic look as he shut the door of the classroom, locking it behind him.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @redglasstear @ondragonhonour @1fandom2many @h3110-dar1in9 @ny0000mw00m @dreamlessnight @2dsimp @professionalreblogs @bigmoose1964

#for tuna #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt

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hbdttg · 1 year

Text

Part 1 / tag list below the cut

“I’m quitting,” Eddie declares, “I’m out. Call me a tree, ‘cause I’m leaving. Call me a banana, ‘cause I’m splitting. T-t-t-t-that’s all, folks!” he adds, doing his best impression of Porky Pig’s signature stammering.

Chrissy’s laser focus doesn’t stray from her monitor, even when Eddie bodily throws himself into the chair across her desk with a long, strangled groan. Wordlessly, she raises her left index finger at him in a silencing gesture. With her brows furrowed in concentration, she drags her mouse around on its pad and double-clicks something on her screen before nodding decisively to herself. After another few clicks, she finally lowers her finger, raises her eyes, and meets Eddie’s gaze.

“Would you mind grabbing what I just printed? Please?” she asks, smiling at him imploringly.

Chrissy could ask Eddie to bleach his hair and shave off an eyebrow and he’d do it. She’s actually who he has to thank for landing such a cushy job with HHH—a referral from a trusted associate like her goes a long way in a place like this.

And despite Eddie’s many complaints about becoming a corporate sellout, he can’t deny that it certainly has its perks. The office is only a ten-minute commute from his apartment, the compensation agreement he signed amounted to more money than his last two jobs combined, his benefits package is frankly ridiculous, and he gets to work with one of his best friends in the world. Overall, not a bad gig.

Even so, he makes a show of sighing, loud and longsuffering, before doing as Chrissy asks, leaving her office to grab her job off the printer. Eddie knows she works in HR and some of her stuff can get pretty confidential, so he doesn’t even try to skim the contents of the page as he walks it back over to her.

“Here,” he says, thrusting the paper at Chrissy facedown.

“Thanks!” she says. She makes no moves to take it from him. “That’s for you, actually.”

Curious, Eddie takes the paper back and flips it over. In the center of the page is a graphic of safety sign one might find in a cartoon factory, though Chrissy had edited the original from “[___] Days Since Last Accident” to “[___] Days Since Eddie Last Threatened to Quit His Job”. There’s a big red zero in the counter box.

Eddie tries to glower down at Chrissy, but it’s sort of hard to maintain when she bursts into laughter. It’s been years, but the sound of Chrissy laughing like this, all bright and breathless and unrestrained, never fails to transport him back to his (third) senior year of high school, when they first became friends over a failed drug deal.

“Don’t be cute,” Eddie says with a laughable lack of authority, dropping heavily back down into the chair.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Chrissy counters, brow raised archly.

Eddie rolls his eyes, crumpling the page into a ball and lobbing it in between them.

Chrissy lets the ball land harmlessly on her desk before sweeping it into the trashcan by her feet. “Just so you know, I’ve had that saved on my desktop since Monday—and I haven’t had to edit the days count a single time.”

Eddie scoffs, but it’s hard to defend himself when this current visit marks the fifth day in a row he’s floundered into her office, vainly announcing his resignation. “Yeah, well,” he says weakly, “printing it seems like a gross misuse of company resources.”

“What are you going to do, report me?” Chrissy says with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

“Let me guess: you’re the one who receives those reports?” Eddie says dryly.

“Yep!” she says cheerfully. “Now, go on and tell me about your latest trainwreck of an interaction with Steve Harrington.”

“Christ, Chris!” Eddie hisses, leaping to his feet and immediately spinning around to check if anyone was around to hear her damning words. The coast is clear, luckily, but he still scrambles to shut her office door before falling back into his chair. “You can’t just go around saying his name all willy-nilly.”

“He’s not gonna suddenly appear if you say his name three times, Eddie. See, watch. Steve. Steve. St—”

“Don’t risk it!” Eddie squawks loudly, cutting her off.

“You’re an absolute mess,” she says through a laugh, shaking her head at him.

And well, Chrissy’s not wrong.

Eddie’s been a mess since Monday morning, when he unknowingly produced, directed, and starred in The Roast of Steve Harrington. He blames his shitty memory for forgetting what floor his new office was on—if he’d known he was sharing the elevator with someone he could have potentially worked with (let alone someone whose surname made up a third of the company name), he wouldn’t have opened his big, fat mouth in the first place.

When he finally gathered the courage to make it back down to the fifty-second floor and show his face at the HHH office, he kicked off his onboarding with Chrissy with a strangled, “I know it’s my first day and I technically just started ten minutes ago, but I quit. Thank you for the opportunity and good-bye forever.”

Chrissy, the traitor, spent a full five minutes laughing in his face over his shamefully recounted story before patting him twice on the head and informing him he wasn’t allowed to quit for at least six months. The overly saccharine tone of her voice alone told Eddie there was no room for argument there.

Still, that didn’t stop him from following her into her office after the all-hands meeting on Tuesday, all the while whining in her ear, “I can’t thrive in these conditions, Chrissy. Please, I beg of you—accept my sincere and humble resignation from this cursed hellscape.”

‘These conditions’ consisted of any rooms and/or conversations that contained Steve Harrington. Eddie hadn’t been expecting to see the guy doting over the catering when he walked into the conference room that afternoon, and he certainly wasn’t expecting his supervisor and trainer, Murray, to lead him over to Steve to introduce the two of them (though that was likely just an excuse to head straight for the sandwiches that were laid out for the meeting).

While Eddie choked on his own tongue trying to spit out some generic, inoffensive greeting, Steve merely watched him with an amused smirk before thrusting his hand out and offering a perfectly friendly “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie, I’m Steve”, as if Eddie didn’t have Steve’s name and face (and stupidly fit body—who the fuck looks that good in a pair of khakis?!) burnt into his memory from the day prior.

Afterward, Murray, who most assuredly did not have a filter of any kind, bluntly commented on Eddie’s awkwardness, then spent the next five minutes trying to determine if it was normal, strangers-meeting-for-the-first time awkwardness, or something more sensational. Eddie stubbornly kept his mouth shut until the meeting started.

Wednesday followed a similar pattern, with Eddie flouncing into Chrissy’s office with a dramatic “I choose to break my blood oath. At this point I’d welcome the sweet release of death if it meant I didn’t have to work here anymore.”

Chrissy just corrected him, patiently explaining that he was employed at-will, rather than by blood oath, and that if he left before his sixth month, she’d personally skin him alive. Eddie had to pause and weigh the pros and cons of being skinless. Surely it couldn’t be worse than his latest exchange with Steve—via email this time, mercifully.

He’d just learned how to field helpdesk tickets and received one from Steve Harrington himself. It was a simple enough software request ticket, so he assigned it to himself and replied with next steps, asking Steve for a code so he could remote into his computer and install the program.

Steve replied back, asking where he was supposed to find the code. It was an innocuous enough question, but then Eddie noticed something a little off about his email signature: his last name was bolded.

Eddie ignored it, assuming it was a stylistic choice—nothing to read into, surely—but then Steve sent another email shortly after to let him know to disregard his last email; he’d found the right app and was just waiting for it to generate a code. This time, Harrington was bolded and at least two sizes bigger than his first name.

Then, in Steve’s third email, sent not a minute later with the requested code, Harrington was bolded, two sizes bigger than his first name, and highlighted yellow—a tactic Chrissy found so hilarious that she had to shoo Eddie out of her office with tears in her eyes so that she could compose herself and actually get some work done.

Thursday was a blessed reprieve from Steve’s unique brand of psychological warfare, but Eddie still somehow managed to royally humiliate himself in front of him. After he slunk into her office and silently pushed a scribbled-on napkin across her desk—

Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from my position as Systems Analyst II at HHH, effective immediately. Effective yesterday. In fact, I’ll pay you back the entirety of my wages earned if we just forget I ever worked here.

—Chrissy tutted at him sympathetically before taking the napkin and reaching over to dab it at the large wet stain on his shirt.

He’d been walking back to his desk from the breakroom when he rounded a corner and bumped into Steve in the hallway. Literally bumped into, bodily contact and surprised yelps and everything. And it probably wouldn’t have been such a big deal, really, if not for the fact that he had a newly refilled mug of coffee in his hand.

“Eddie, oh my god, are you okay?”

No, Eddie wasn’t okay, because he just splashed himself with hot fucking coffee and now Steve Harrington was worriedly fussing over him and tentatively trying to mop up the liquid with his own fucking hands for some reason, and he was embarrassed (and a little turned on?) and he had to get the fuck out of there now.

“I’m okay, sorry, it’s fine—” he managed to squeak before whirling around and scurrying to the bathroom.

So yes, Eddie’s been an absolute mess the past few days, and today is no different.

…Actually, scratch that. Today is different. Today is worse.

“Okay, now spill,” Chrissy says. “What happened?”

With another drawn-out, pitiful groan, Eddie sinks down in his seat and lets his neck hang off the backrest, blinking up at the ceiling.

“Talk to me, Eds,” Chrissy says, concern starting to bleed into her voice. “If he’s actually bullying you, you can file a complaint. I have a form here somewhere.”

Eddie hears her open one of her desk drawers and reluctantly sits up. “He’s not bullying me, Mom,” he says with a huff. “We actually…we talked.”

“You talked?” Chrissy asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, about the elevator. Buried the hatchet and everything. I said sorry, we laughed about it, it’s over and done with.” Eddie’s gaze darts around Chrissy’s desk, searching for something to distract him from the warm and fuzzy feeling growing in his stomach at the memory of their conversation.

“That’s great, I’m so proud of you!” Chrissy says cheerfully. “But wait, if you two are good now…”

Eddie doesn’t want her to ask what she’s about to ask, because the answer might be more embarrassing than all of his other Steve stories combined.

“Why are you still going on about quitting?”

Eddie drops his face into his hands, feeling totally and utterly pathetic. “Um, because I think I’m sort of, kind of, just a little bit…in love with him?”

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

tbh I didn’t think I’d be writing a second part, but if strangers on the internet validate me enough, I guess I’ll do anything~

Y’ALL. I’m blown away by the response to part one of this silly lil au. I didn’t reply to any of the lovely comments or tags, but please know if you engaged in any way (or even if you just read the fic and snorted a little through your nose at a bit you found funny) I love you with my entire heart and you’ve made my entire life.

[Now for the tag list, which I’ve never done before. Sorry if you didn’t actually want to be on here! Or, sorry if you’re stumbling upon this post on your own after asking to be tagged and I missed you oops.]

@messrs-weasley @n0-1-important @bornonthesavage @thing-a-ling @eddiemunsonswife @changenamelater @ispyblu @thesuninyaface

@invisibleflame812 @4nemo1egend @ikolanatari @mavernanche @songbird-garden @trashpocket @original-cypher @over7joyed

@commonxsenss @justdyingontheinside @mojowitchcraft @maya-custodios-dionach @justmiiriam @imzadidragonfly @lillemilly @gay-stranger-things @child-of-cthulhu @bleedingoptimism @lemanzanabizarra @melaniehere91

@iswearitsjustme @silver-snaffles @csinnamon-fox @paint-music-with-me @epicsteddieficrecs @sweetcreaturetm @hxneyfarms @bossyknow-it-all @vecnuthy @stevethehairington @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @nburkhardt

@gayngerthings @patchworkgargoyle @violetsteve @henderdads @2btheanswertothequestion

#stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #modern office au #corporate steddie au #platonic hellcheer #okay obviously eddie's not actually in love with steve #in this au he's a dramatic bitch on top of being a cringe fail loser boy and it's so delightful to me #when he says 'in love with' he means in that superficial infatuated way you sometimes get #when you're suddenly super into someone you don't actually know #let him liiiive #fic writing #hbd

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lunaji · 9 months

Text

I could get used to this.

Pairing: Bangchan x afab!reader

Genre: Mature 18+ (MDNI)

Warnings: /below the cut/

Synopsis: The classic one bed trope. Unspoken feelings, which lead to a very steamy game of 'never have I ever.'

Word count: 4.9k

Authors note: My original plan was to have this be more heavy smut, but I fell in love with a softer side of Chan and the way he'd praise the reader, soooo... tadah.

Be added to the taglist here

If you like my work, please do let me know, it makes my day ♡

Lightly edited*

Please do not repost or reword any of my works onto any platform.

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Warnings: explicit smut, piv, mutual pining, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), swearing, praise kink, softdom!Chan, sub!Reader, oral (f receiving), finishing inside reader, hickeys, fingering (f receiving), eenie weenie breeding kink, fluffy sex :) , Chan is in awe of the reader, reader is kinda bratty (magnifying glass needed), names such as baby, baby girl are used so if you are uncomfortable with that be aware!

----

“I must’ve messed up the reservation.” You had your face in your hands as you looked to the very obvious one bed in the hotel room, as Chan pulled his phone out, “I swore to double check the booking before I made it, I promise you Y/N.” Chan muttered, scrolling through the email as his face paled slightly. “Oh. Wait here, I will see if they have another room.” He spoke with an embarrassed look on his face, the tip of his ears bright red as he turned to the door, opening it with haste as you sighed, moving your hands from your face to open the bathroom door, leaning against the sink.

Your own face was a scarlet red, as you ran the tap cold, using your palms to cup the water, splashing it on your face to cool yourself down, as you sighed heavily. You and Chan were currently on a trip around the world, after he had finished his comeback with the other members of Stray Kids, he’d asked you, his best friend, if you would like to travel. It had always been something you had wanted to do since you were young, and Chan knew this, and now that he had enough money to do so, he wanted to spoil you.

After all, you were childhood friends, and he had promised you if he had gotten famous enough to afford a holiday for you, he would. One thing you knew about Chan was he was a definite man of his word. He had a rare 3 weeks off, which was practically unheard of, especially with big companies such as JYP, so much so you had /begged/ Chan to leave his laptop in Korea, which was a hard fight which ended up with you in floods of hot tears and Chan finally agreeing after seeing your point of relaxing. What you hadn’t managed to keep away from him was his work phone, but he had insisted he would only use it if absolutely necessary.

You wandered out of the bathroom, as you wandered to the window, looking out and down at the people wandering past, wondering about each and everyone's backstory as you hummed to yourself, before you heard a sigh from behind you, one of defeat almost. You turned on your heel to see a despaired Chan, as he kicked the door with his foot shut behind him, smiling sheepishly to you.

“Turns out I had indeed only booked one bed, and the lady on reception tried her hardest to find us a twin room, but they only had doubles left,” Chan sighed, as he looked to you apologetically. “I can set up a bed on the floor, I don't mind-” he was silenced by you shushing him as you pinched your hand together in a ‘be quiet’ motion, shaking your head as you laughed softly.

“We’re old enough now to share a bed, Chan. I’m okay with it really. What’s the worst that could happen, one of us kicking the other out in their sleep?” You offered a joke, sighing slightly in relief as Chan seemed to loosen up, his shoulders untensing from their harsh position by the sides of his head, his hands letting go of his shirt he had balled in his fists.

“Yeah, you’re right, we’ve slept on the couch together before, what is a bed for us?” He asked rhetorically, as he leant down to take his shoes off, as you lifted your hoodie up and off, slinging it on the back of the chair at the small desk that was positioned in the corner of the room. Chan had already begun to unpack the case you two had shared between yourselves, placing the clothes you had onto one shelf, and his own on the shelf below. What you hadn’t realised whilst you had your back turned, was the fond expression your best friend had given you throughout your conversation, as you now turned to face him, a cheshire grin on your face almost.

“The next step in our relationship. I don’t know if friends take it to second base. Bed sharing.” You stated sarcastically, pushing your trainers off your feet, and flopping onto the bed, “We’re only here for 4 days, we can even cuddle.” You taunted, as you patted the bed next to you expectantly, stretching your arms above your head, as Chan moved from his current activity of playing housewife with the clothes and sat on the bed next to you, his hands taking advantage of your exposed midriff, tickling it gently as you pulled you arms down quickly to try and defend yourself, a squeak leaving your lips as Chan laughed, unrelenting on his mission to make you laugh too as you squirmed under his attack, doubled over in a ball to hide from his hands. “Chan! I- stop!” You managed through breathy laughs, as he finally let go of you, lying back next to you as you hummed in defeat, feigning death as you stuck your tongue out dramatically.

“It wasn’t that bad Y/N, you’ve been around Hyunjin too much. So dramatic.” He mocked, as you looked over to him, a look of ‘first of all, ouch’, but he was right. But you were always like this together, so you knew he didn’t mean it really. You loved that about your friendship with Chan, everything you did together was always full of laughter and happiness, even when things were hard, like when Chan had left to train, you had still called when he could, making sure he checked up on you, always having time for you despite his ever growing and incredibly busy schedule. You admired him for it, and you couldn’t imagine anyone else being your best friend.

Best friend. That’s all you had ever seen him as, well, as far as you knew anyway. Sure, he was absolutely beautiful and he knew that about himself, he was confident enough to know and show his body to fans, and you would be lying if you hadn’t swooned over his abs, they were the best thing you had seen since sliced bread. Yes, your best friend was fucking attractive and you loved it. Did you love him? Sure, as a friend. At least, you told yourself that, but a few drunk thoughts would tell you otherwise. Besides, Chan was way too busy to be a dating man, you knew that, you just knew how to admire goods. That was all.

—

“Okay right, my turn.” Chan hummed, as he thought of his move, “never have I ever thought about an idol in a pervy way.” He smirked as you rolled your eyes, putting a finger down.

“In my defence, have you SEEN Hongjoong? He’s incredible. And do not get me started on Changbin.” You giggled, taking a sip of your lemonade as you spoke, Chan making a ‘bleh’ face as you spoke about his friends, “Hey, you asked me. I am being honest.” You shrugged as you hummed, “okay, never have I ever thought about my friends naked.” You wiggled your eyebrows, as Chan sighed dramatically, putting a finger down as you raised a brow.

“Let’s not get it twisted,” he started, repositioning himself so he was propped up on one elbow as he faced you, a blush painting his cheeks a rosy colour as he contemplated his words, “I have one friend in particular who I wouldn’t mind seeing naked, that is for sure.” He coughed awkwardly, as you made a noise of amusement, “They are stunning. But, there’s no way they would ever say yes.” He laughed softly, as you shuffled to sit cross legged on the bed, pillows propped up behind you as you watched him.

“They are incredibly stupid then, imagine saying no to Bahng Christopher Chan.” You teased as you used his full name, which you both only used in unserious situations with each other, “hit me.” You hummed, as you fiddled with the can’s tab, waiting for his next ‘confession’.

“Never have I ever touched myself to my best friend.” He said, a look on his face you couldn’t quite read as you furiously blushed, coughing as you looked away. “Well?” He murmured, as he leant up slightly, trying to see your face.

You hesitantly put a finger down as you felt the atmosphere change, it felt thick with unspoken confessions suddenly, “T-this is a fun game!” You forced a laugh as you looked at him again, noticing he had also put a finger down. “You know the whole point of this game is to say things you haven’t done.” You breathed out, as Chan shrugged.

“Oh well, you know I like to be honest.” He clicked his tongue shifting so he was fully in front of you now, lying across the bed sideways as you put your can down, pulling your cushion from behind you into your lap as you looked away from him. “Would you rather I lie to you Y/N?” He questioned as you shook your head, looking at him again.

“It caught me off guard, that’s all Chan. You can’t just ask me that.” You choked out, hitting him softly with the pillow as you spoke, as you bit your lip in concentration at your next ‘question’. You could be very straight forward with it, or, you could play dumb. The second option seemed very appealing, so you smiled reassuringly at Chan who seemed to be concerned at your lack of response, “Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend.”

Chan’s breathing hitched as it was his turn to look away, before he licked his lips in haste. “Yeah.” He answered simply, as he looked you dead in the eye. “I have, and I still am.”

“Oh.” Was all you could manage. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife, and as you gulped, Chan shifted so he was leant against the headboard, his hands nervously running through his hair as he watched you, similar to the way you were watching him.

“Never have I ever wanted to kiss you.” There it was.

Time felt like it had stopped, neither of you said or did anything for a moment, but soon enough you found yourself crawling up the bed towards him, having only stopped prior to discarding the pillow you had placed on your lap. You tentatively sat on your knees in front of him.

“Never?”

Chan’s breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling at a fast pace, his hands reaching to pull you into his lap, your legs either side of his hips, as you both matched the same shade of crimson. You held your own hand up to his face, putting down a finger tentatively slow on purpose, as Chan’s breathing hitched in his throat, a hum leaving his lips as he moved to rest his hand on the small of your back, and pushed your body closer to his, where your chests touched, syncing in the rhythm of rising and falling.

“All the time.”

The shakiness of your breathing mixed with the sensation of his hand on your body made you feel dizzy with anticipation, as you rested your head on his shoulder, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you tried to ground yourself, before you felt Chan’s hand moving to bring your chin up to face him. His finger moved to trail your jawline, before his palm cupped your cheek, a look of seeking approval written in his eyes as you hummed softly, your lips parted slightly as you tipped your head to the side slowly, your eyes never leaving his.

Chan took a silent moment to work up an ounce of courage as he leant forward, the gap mere centimetres between your lips as you let out a tiny laugh, your nerves making your stomach twist as you felt his hot breath on your lips, the feeling intoxicating almost as you closed the distance. Your lips tingle at the sensation as he led the kiss between you, his hand on the small of your back now moving to gently hold your waist, keeping you close to him as you both shared at first, a sweet, simple kiss. The excitement of being able to finally feel what it was like to kiss him bubbling in your body whilst you let your arms drape loosely around his neck, Chan humming gently as he spoke against your lips, “you taste like lemonade.”

You chuckled softly as he spoke, his lips tickling yours almost in a ghost of a kiss, as you let your hands run up his neck to his hair, finding themselves lost in his brown locks. You felt his body shiver under yours. Chan’s tongue slid along the underneath of your bottom lip as you granted him access, letting your lips part slightly as his tongue trailed the outline of your own, feeling the warmth of his breath and sharing saliva felt so personal, making your head spin. Chan’s hands found its way onto your waist, his fingers drawing swirling patterns into your flesh as you hummed in delight at the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin. They slowly made their way to the hem of your shirt, as he broke the kiss only quickly to ask for permission, your head nodding slowly as he lifted it gently, making sure to take in every part of your top half as he did.

When he had removed the garment to the floor, his breath hitched in his throat as he licked his lips slowly, “You are so gorgeous, my love.” He murmured, his fingers moving to trace hearts into your stomach as he spoke, moving carefully to make sure he got a touch of every inch of you, your eyes fluttering shut as you enjoyed the intimacy of the moment. The room was silent apart from the staggered breathing from both of you as you moved your hands to Chan’s chest, sliding them under the fabric of his top, feeling the hardened abs he sported, letting a small gasp of pleasant surprise out. It wasn’t like you didn’t know he had a fit body, but feeling it on your own accord made it all the better. He smiled at your curiosity, and lent back to pull his own top off, before he brought his hands back to caress the soft flesh of your back, pressing your chests together.

“I want to take this slow, we have all evening. Maybe even multiple rounds.” He whispered, his lips pressing faintly on your neck, trailing soft kisses of adoration along your jaw and up to your ears, “You belong to me, and I belong to you.” His words shot straight between your legs and you whimpered quietly, before his lips engulfed yours in a hot, passionate kiss, his hands wandering to your bra clasp, un-clipping it with insane ease. Every time his fingers caught your skin, it felt like hot lava encasing your skin, the whines from your lips suggesting neediness as Chan chuckled softly against your shoulder, the feeling of his eyelashes fluttering against your bare skin as he did so. You didn’t need to see his face to know the expression he was wearing at that moment.

“Chris..” you hummed, feeling the straps of your bra slip from your shoulders, Chan’s hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs finding haven in rubbing small circles to each of your nipples as he let a small ‘hmm?’ out, a smirk of pure love on his face as you tipped your head back slowly, baring your chest to him, whilst Chan’s lips worked delicate, purple bruises into your skin, trailing from your neck, down to the cavern of your breasts, marking you as his own. His, and his only. “I- you..”

Chan looked up to you, his breath hot on your skin as he let his tongue run along the top of your left breast, “words, baby.” His hand made light work on winding your nipple up to arousal, his mouth taking care of your other as his hand slipped down to your shorts, hesitating slightly as he ran it along the waistband. “Can we remove these, hmm?” He spoke against your nipple as you let a breathy giggle out, at his politeness, nodding as he shuffled to flip you both, resting you carefully against the bed as he let his mouth place sloppy, undirected kisses down your stomach, his hands working the buttons to your shorts, wriggling you out of them as you lifted your ass for him, making it easier for him to rid of the cloth covering you.

Chan’s lips pursed as he soaked in the view of how beautiful you were under him, his hand running to caress your inner thigh as his head lowered to press a deliberately drawn out kiss to your clothed pussy, before he raised his mouth a little to the pantie line of your underwear. He let the material rest between his teeth as he painfully slowly pulled them down, the butterflies in your stomach transferring to between your legs as his hands gripped onto your waist, supporting himself more than you as he maintained eye contact with you the entire time, the air thick with lust and emotions unspoken between you both as your own hands found haven in his hair once more, running them gently through it. The pure adoration you had for him had never changed, even so with him between your legs intimately, he was still the man you knew and had loved unconditionally.

You hadn’t even registered Chan’s current location until you felt the titillation of his hot breath against your thigh, a small mewl leaving your lips as your eyes followed his actions - one of which his lips trailed against your skin, daring closer to your pussy as he inhaled sharply, the way you were dripping for him and he hadn’t touched you yet drove him insane. His fingers ran up and down your other leg as he let his tongue kitten lick a stripe from your cunt to your clit, an obscene noise leaving your mouth as your back arched from the bed, hands gripping at the sheets below you as Chan took that as a compliment, now applying more pressure as he circled the tip of his tongue around your hole, before bringing his actions up to your clit, small but repetitive flicks on your bundle of nerves sending you to the stars without much effort already.

Chan hummed against you as his fingers slid under his mouth, so he could work your tight pussy at the same speed as his tongue, inserting a finger into you as he pumped it into you, his mouth and finger in sync as you shook slightly at the stimulation, your legs squeezing around his head as you felt him huff against you, his free hand moving to separate your legs so he could have better access. The sounds filling the room were disgustingly pleasing, from the squelching of your wet cunt being fucked by his finger, to the slurping and sucking sounds from Chan’s mouth. You’d never received head quite like it.

“Cum for me, then I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your own name.” Chan muttered against your clit as he introduced a second finger, pumping into you at a merciless pace as you could do no more than whimper incessantly at the feeling of your orgasm on the brink of tipping over the edge, your face contorted in pleasure as your eyes squeezed shut, mumbling incoherent words. And, when Chan’s fingers hit just that spot inside you, you let out the most intense scream of pleasure as your hands came up to clutch his hair, almost grinding your pussy against his face as he helped you through what would most likely be your first orgasm of many that evening.

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt Chan massage his hand up your side to your face, his own now centimetres with yours as his lips glistened with your release, his hair messy from where you had gripped it insistantly as you had face fucked him, a rosy tint spreading your face as he smiled gently at your embarrassment. His hand cupped your cheek gently as he let his nose nuzzle your cheek as his breathing hitched - mainly because you had pressed a cautious but firm leg to his crotch, feeling his hard on bulge through his shorts.

“Off, please.” You whined, as you made grabby hands to the top of his waistband, as Chan let out a chuckle, standing up slowly so he could remove his shorts and boxers, his erection springing free from its confined space as your eyes drew to his impressive length. His dick was the right amount to fill you up, you decided there and then as Chan kicked the shorts to the side, before he hooked his hands under the bends of your knees, pulling you down the bed to the edge, as he looked to you.

“Are you sure you want this?”

“Chris, you just ate me out and you’re asking me if I want this?” You snorted, as you could feel the heat of his body against yours, his strong hands tucked perfectly under your knees as you looked up to the ethereal man above, the same dorky smile painted on his lips as he moved down to kiss your lips slowly, savouring every second.

“I’m just making sure. I don’t think we could go back to being friends after.” He chuckled, stroking your face with his thumb.

“I don’t want to be just friends,” You started, your hands moving to wrap around Chan’s body, earning a small grunt from the male, as he let his hand move to grip the base of his cock.

“Good, because I don’t plan on being nothing short of your boyfriend once I'm done with fucking you.” He hummed, as he ran the tip of his cock up and down your slit, collecting your slick on it as he let out a small groan of pleasure, as you faltered slightly at his words. Your boyfriend. That made you let out a small giggle of giddiness, before it was quickly replaced by a tiny whimper of pleasure as you felt Chan lean one of his knees on the bed to support himself, pushing the tip of his cock into your tight entrance, a plethora of curse words leaving his lips as he furrowed his brows at the feeling. “Fuck baby girl, this wet and tight for me?” His words sounded like pure honey to you as you managed a nod, your hands gently gripping the soft flesh of his back as he continued to stretch you until he was sitting snugly inside your walls, leaning to kiss each corner of your mouth as he let you adjust.

His cock fit so perfectly inside you, it had you wondering just why it had taken you this long to fuck, as Chan’s thumb rubbed circles into your calf that was placed over his shoulder now, which had you split almost in half for him. He hummed as he let his head rest against your leg, before he moved his hips slowly, testing the waters. The moan that spilled from your lips was more than enough indication to Chan that he had you right where you belonged. He let his thrusts start at a mediocre pace, enjoying the feel of you clenching around him, his head tipped to the side so he could kiss a trail of saliva filled kisses to your leg, whilst his other hand ran down your body to your clit, his finger massaging an almost perfect circle around it as you whined from the back of your throat, hands gripping onto his back, leaving small but noticeable marks that were a sure indicator of your rendezvous of the evening.

The romantic atmosphere was nothing short of pure adoration from both sides, as Chan caught your eyes in a deep, meaningful gaze, his hips rolling into you with ease as he let grunts of pleasure leave his lips, all the while working you up to your second orgasm, his finger still on your bundle of nerves as he timed his thrusts into you with the same time he applied pressure in bursts, sending you up the wall almost at how well he was fucking you into the sheets.

“Chris- feels so good.” You babbled, hands desperately trying to ground you as you let them run down to his shoulders, earning a low moan from Chan, who had beads of sweat collecting at the centre of his forehead. He slowed his motions for a moment, before pulling out of you, earning a whimper of desperation from you, before he shook his head, sitting at the headboard, patting his lap to you, which you gladly complied, crawling up the bed to him, settling your thighs either side of him as he held his cock in place for you to slip back down onto him, filling the room with moans from both of you.

You placed both of your hands onto his chest, rolling your hips into Chan as his own gripped at your waist, supporting you as you began to ride him, leisurely at first, getting a feel of just how good he was inside you, before he let out a low growl, pulling you into him closer so he could attach his lips to your neck, decorating it with his own personal jewellery, a selection of varying shades of purple bruises. Marking you as his. Only his. That sounded so good.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” His words tickled your skin as you leant back to cup his face, your hips still rolling into him as your breathing slowly fell from its steady pace.

“Why didn’t you just say?”

“Work,” Chan huffed, as he pushed your hair from your face, “along with the fact I wanted to make sure you really loved me the way I love you.”

"Of course I love you, I always have." You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes, the confession made your heart race. You finally could tell him how you felt.

The look on his face told you everything you needed to know, as you captured his lips in a deep kiss, feeling his hands cup your ass, lifting you up slightly so he could fuck into you from below. You tried to match his speed, bouncing down onto his dick as he fucked up, but the dizzy, intoxicating feeling of his words, along with how good he felt, made you falter. He really cared about you, and it showed. He fucked deep into you, pressing against your g-spot with the tip of his cock, his mouth moving down to wrap around your nipple, licking and grazing his teeth against it. Chan really understood the female anatomy, your anatomy.

“Easy baby, let me take care of you.” He whispered against your lips, before he rested his forehead against yours, your arms wrapping around his neck as your bodies fit as close as they could together, two pieces of a puzzle perfectly aligned. The room was quiet, apart from the concentration of sloppy sounds from your wet pussy, Chan’s grunts and your own whimpers of ecstasy. “Look down.”

You complied, your mouth falling open in pure shock at the sight of Chan’s cock disappearing inside you, as you caught a glimpse of his face, concentrated on how well you were taking him, his lip bitten as you let your head roll back in pleasure, a string of words absolutely inaudible as you did, the familiar feeling of the knot of an orgasm in your stomach.

“Please, s’ close.” You hummed, licking your lips in haste as you chased your high, letting you pussy bounce down onto his cock, earning a throaty groan of enjoyment from Chan, who’s own hips seemed to snap up quicker into you now, both of you finding solace in each others bodies, your highs climbing quickly.

“Cum around me, let your tight cunt squeeze my own cum from me.” His words were filthy, but it drove you insane as you came undone on your newfound lovers cock, his name spilling from your lips loudly, sweat dripping from your forehead, before you felt Chan twitch inside you, “fuck, (y/n), I need to pull-”

You shook your head, bringing your hands to clutch him tightly to you, your eyes wide as you begged, “no, inside. P-pill.” Your words sounded so desperate, so needy, that it awoke something inside Chan, his thrusts becoming ruthless into your cunt, which would surely leave bruises in the morning.

“Baby girl wants to be bred? Fill you up so well?”

“Mhm..p- please Channie, need it.”

That was enough for him to spill inside you, your walls gripping his cock tightly as he moaned your name out, as you rocked back onto him, helping him through his own orgasm. Neither of you moved for a moment, the room filled with the heavy breathing from both of you, the smell of sex and the sure knowing of unspoken feelings finally laid out on the table.

You let your head fall onto his shoulder as his hands ran up and down your back carefully, as you felt him soften inside you. His lips pressed dainty kisses onto your head, leading down to your ear where he spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

“Chris?”

“I don’t think one bed will be a problem anymore, do you?”

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#bang chan #chan x reader #chan x y/n #bangchan smut #chan smut #skz smut #skz x reader #lunaji #lunajismut

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rafescurtainbangz · 17 days

Text

Shameless - Rafe Cameron +18

Thank you so much for your ask 💕🩷

Boyfriend!Rafe x Female Reader

800 words

⇢ Lightly edited

Minor DNI

Fingering, unprotected p in v, public sex, drug usage, Rafe and Reader are high (you are responsible for your consumption as a reader), teasing, pet names

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

“Princess… Mmm’fuck that’s it,” Rafe praises as you grind your needy self on his clothed cock. His fingers leave a bruising grip on both ass cheeks, tucked under your dress.

“I need your cock so bad, Rafe… It’s all I can think about,” you whine as Rafe’s fingers trail up your thighs making your spread legs draw together from sheer want alone. “Please, daddy.”

So needy f’me tonight, doll. I fuckin’ love it,” Rafe mumbles against your lips before his fingers make their way between your thighs.

“Yes,” you whine breathily, throwing your heavy head back as your high sets in. “I’m not wearing panties-”

“Yo - Can you two calm the fuck down?” Topper sneers, yanking you out of your cocaine and lust-driven haze. You meet Rafe’s eyes, practically black from the drugs, his beautiful blue hue all but gone. A smirk slides across his lips as he moves a little higher, ignoring Top completely.

“There ain’t enough rooms in this house for you, Country Club? Gotta get it on right here?” Barry mocks before sipping his drink.

“You hear somebody, princess? I sure as shit didn’t,” Rafe smiles. “Hold your tits for me,” he mutters before cutting a line on your cleavage. You giggle as he looks back at you hungrily before cleaning it off with his nose, then his mouth.

Rafe’s lips press against yours as he slides a digit into your soaked cunt. He swallows your moan, your parted lips letting his tongue slip through; the remnants of drugs on his lips making your mouth feel numb.

“These two serious?” Kelce chuckles. “Want me to record this for you, Rafey?”

Rafe draws away from your lips, breathing heavily through a cocky smile. “Please.” He lofts his phone in Kelce’s direction, giving you a little wink before getting back to it. “Now where were we?” He jams his finger back in your soaked pussy, making you moan. Your unbridled sounds of pleasure cause the little group of girls behind you to leave.

“You wanna stop?” Rafe mumbles with no intention to do so.

“No, Daddy. I want more,” you smile against his mouth.

“More, huh? Use your words, baby,” he bullies as he plays with your clit, making you whimper.

”Fuck me. I need it.”

“Right here? Right now?” He chuckles breathily.

You nod, letting your eyes fall shut. “Right here. Right now, Rafe. Fuck. Me-”

“Dude…” Topper snickers as he lifts his beer to his lips. “We gettin’ foreplay and everything? Just fuck and get it over with.”

“Shut up, Top,” Rafe sighs in his raspy tone. “Can’t you see we’re busy?”

You tug at the button of Rafe's chinos, lowering his zipper. Rafe adjusts slightly, pulling you closer, releasing his cock. You moan at the sight of it, his fat cockhead already leaking precum. You swipe your finger across it, drawing it between your lips.

“Give me your pussy, baby. C’mon,” Rafe sighs impatiently as you dip him into your warmth. Just a tease on his tip as you line your body up in the perfect position. Rafe pitches his hips up, penetrating you deeply causing you to gasp.

"Mmm... That felt so fucking good, Daddy," you praise.

“Yeah, baby. You like that?” He groans as he starts thrusting up into you. You kiss him roughly, your tongues moving in succession; hands in his hair. “Bounce for me. Hmm?” Rafe breathes through a smirk.

You lower your weight on top of him, mouth falling into a soft “o” as his eyes roll back. You lean into his lips, brushing yours against his. "Such a big cock, daddy," You whisper into your kiss before giving his lip a soft bite and a tug.

You start to bounce on his dick, letting your ass clap against his thighs. Rafe chuckles darkly, listening to your drenched pussy squelch for all to hear.

“Grind on me, princess,” Rafe groans. You start rolling and grinding your hips on top of him. Rafe’s dick hits all the right spot, making you claw at his polo. He pushes you back slightly, shamelessly watching you work, his cock glistening with your essence as you feel yourself nearing your peak.

“M’gonna cum, baby,” you whimper.

“In front of all these people, baby doll… Shittt… I knew you were my girl.”

Rafe overpowers you, setting the pace, watching your face; responding to your pleasure. "Right there, Rafe", you plead as your orgasm teetering right on the edge of ecstacy. He spanks your ass roughly. "More," you beg. His hand meets your skin again, rougher than the first, causing you to cry out making the boys snicker amongst themselves.

“My girl sounds good. Huh?” He boasts. "Mmm... Be a good girl and cum for me, sweetheart. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.”

“Rafe… I-” You lose all control, throwing your head back as you dissolve in pleasure, bouncing on top of him.

"Fuckkk," he moans deeply as his eyes pinch shut, surrendering to his climax as well.

Rafe’s eyes flutter open; his lap a wet mess from you. He reaches over, stealing the cig off Topper’s hand, popping it between his lips as he looks back at you. He retrieves the drugs from his pants pocket, dangling in front of your fucked-out gaze. “Ready for more?”

Taglist

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