#so those two are like the mini playlist for this lil fic

[queenofbaws]

💖🎶🐀 for Blood of the Covenant, Water of the Womb, please and thank you!! :-)

well oh my good golly gosh, don't mind if i do! ;)c hehehe

💖 What is your favorite moment in this WIP?

hmmmMMM this one's tough, because we haven't gotten to my fav part(s) yet and i don't want to spoil things, soooOOOOOOO here's what i'll say >:)

since blood of the covenant, water of the womb is TECHNICALLY the series and not just oooone lil' old fic........my favorite moment in all in the family is jack watching chris, caleb, and kaylee pop their skin for the first time; my favorite part of like wringing blood from a stone WILL involve a big family argument where too much is said by literally everyone involved*; and there may or may not be two additional (hypothetical) fics where my fav moments involve travis making the mistake of meeting his heroes(?) and a certain someone from bobby's past coming to family dinner

HYPOTHETICALLY. hypothetically. :)c

🎶 Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar?

I DO!!!!!! outside of the little mini-moodboards i make to promo each chapter, i have a sideblog - @hacketthouse - that's sort of like...a "living" moodboard, if you will, in that i'm always adding stuff to the queue over there! it's really just a bunch of stuff that matches the vibe i'm going for with the whole series. it's moodier/more serious stuff than the things i tag 'the hacketts' here on my main, so just don't expect the same goof-em-ups over there, hehe

i also have a spotify playlist i listen to while writing! it's very very long, there's a lot of weird choices i've made on it, but it's what gets me in the groove when i sit down for a long writing session in north kill ;)

and while i keep TELLING MYSELF i'm going to eventually make a big old edit with the whole fam-damily and the character traits i imagine they have (similar to the promo materials from the quarry), alas, my self-confidence with edits is still pretty low, so...i haven't scrounged up the courage to do that yet, but maybe one of these days!!

🐀 Name three reasons why this WIP is great at being insert genre here.

i think blood of the covenant, water of the womb is great at being a buddy comedy because heheheh nah, i HOPE blood of the covenant, water of the womb is good at being a horror series because

most of the horror isn't coming from the monsters at all, but just the deeply, deeply troubled family foundation and subsequent idea of morality they're working with, which i think is kind of the real horror of the quarry if i'm being honest

there really aren't any "good guys," or at least not traditional ones; just those who have a vague idea of what they're up against and those who most certainly DON'T

so much of these stories is inspired by my own family, and like. this BETTER be halfway decent horror, okay, because please let me get SOMETHING out of what these people have been putting me through lately 🤣🤣🤣

random wip asks!

[miss-ingno]

Commission: Someone Like You

Fandom: ragehappy Ship: Raychael (Ray/Michael) Words: 1.1k Tags: pre-fahc, pining, not-good-enough angst, happy ending

Summary: Ray's been in love with Michael almost as long as he's known him. But now that Gavin's entered the picture, he's not just losing his crush -- but his best friend, too.

A/N: For @lunarlover12 who wanted some mutual pining Raychael <3 we only see things from Ray's PoV but let's assume there's been a lot of past pining on Michael's, too :P

Read here on Ao3 or here on Patreon.

***

"You're coming to Los Santos with me, right?"

Ray hadn't even given it a second of thought before agreeing. It was Michael who asked, what else could he do? So what if Michael doesn't return his feelings, he is still his best friend and this is what best friends do. Ray thinks. He's never had a best friend before.

And now he's going to lose him.

It's all his own fault, too.

Los Santos is a city full of crooked cops and gang wars. Up and coming criminals constantly fought for the top spot, unseating the previous kings and queens in the city of saints. The latest crew emerging worthy of note are the Fake AH. What the AH stands for, nobody knows.

The Fakes, as far as any of Ray's contacts could tell him, consist of three or four people with an astonishing track record. They waltzed into the city about two months ago, immediately uprooting established gangs and taking over their turf. They've also officially declared war on the Corpirate, the current king of LS.

Ray would prefer to stay far away from them and the trouble they're seeking, but.

The other fact he knows of the Fakes is that they're recruiting. Actively and selectively. That wouldn't be a problem, except the Face of the crew, their so called Golden Boy seems to have a specific target in mind:

Michael.

It started with a job they took, just Michael with Ray for secret back up. Ray picked it because it seemed low risk, high reward, with a decent payoff even if they split the money. And it worked like a charm, too: with Ray on overwatch and calmly calling out positions in Michael's ear, they wrap up in record time and without Ray giving away his presence.

But while Ray packed his sniper away, slow clapping echoed across the empty shipyard. It took Ray a moment to locate him. The Golden Boy leaned against a shipping container, legs comfortably crossed at the ankles and watching Michael through golden glasses. His smarmy grin put Ray on guard immediately.

"Well done," he said, pushing off the container to swagger up to Michael. "Impressive, even. And I'm not easily impressed."

Ray expected Michael to be wary, to brush him off. And he did, but the Golden Boy wasn’t deterred, continuing to flatter him. He sidestepped Michael’s prickly exterior and right into his space, metaphorically and literally. To Ray’s surprise, Michael let him. Didn’t protest as loud as he should, didn’t shove him away, and that’s when Ray knew he’d lost him.

If there is one truth universally acknowledged in Los Santos, it's this: the Golden Boy gets what he wants. Always.

It doesn't help that he and Michael hit it off immediately. The third time Michael comes home to their joined flat, brimming with excitement after going out for 'bevs' with 'Gavvy', Ray realizes that this is it. He's losing his best friend, without even jeopardizing their friendship by bringing up his feelings.

“-so he invited me over to his place next week, we’re gonna play some Mario Kart, you should-”

“He what now,” Ray interrupted, trying to maintain a neutral face despite the jealousy flashing through his heart.

The thing is, before all of this, Ray thought he had a chance. Michael flirted with him, in that friendly, gruff way he had. Except now he sees the same behaviour directed at someone else, and he can’t tell if it’s just how Michael is, or if Gavin holds his interest, too. And if it comes to a contest between Ray and the Golden Boy, Ray knows who wins.

It’s not him.

“Yeah, he wants me to meet his crew. It’d be good to have strong allies in this city,” Michael explains, grin bright and happy. Ray’s heart sinks. He knew it would come to this, but now that they’re here, he finds he’s not ready to let go.

Michael will go far, and Ray will remain behind. Invisible, like always. Alone again.

He’s happy for Michael, he tells himself. He is.

He’ll get used to it.

“I thought we were gonna check out the parking garage on 9th street,” Ray protests, though it’s quiet, more of a grumble than anything. Michael rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like we’re gonna spent all fucking day down there.” Michael musters Ray with a long, intense look Ray can’t quite meet, focussing instead on his game. “You can come with, you know. We don’t have to tell him all about your ‘secret sniper identity’ or shit.”

“And intrude on your special ‘boi’ time?” Ray drawls, rolling his eyes in turn. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Michael’s eyes narrow and after a long, tense moment, he points an accusatory finger at Ray. “Wait. Wait. Are you… jealous!?”

Ray gapes at him and sputters, “Wha- jeal- me? What? No!” Then he clears his throat and tries to compose himself, heart thundering away in his chest. He puts as much nonchalance as he’s able to into his next words (which is none). “Why would I be jealous?”

"Because I've been spending a lot of fucking time with Gavin, apparently!" Michael exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. But Ray's brain gets stuck on one specific word in that sentence.

"Fucking?" he presses out through a tightening throat, and hopes the dry delivery makes it sound more sarcastic than desperate.

"Fuck, no." Michael’s nose scrunches up in distaste, and Ray is swamped with relief. “What the fuck, Ray. Why would you think that?”

“S’not like you’ve been around much,” Ray mutters, crossing his arms. “How the fuck should I know.”

Michael sits down next to him, staring at Ray without replying. Ray ducks his head, fiddling with the controller in his lap. Maybe it’s for the best if Michael assumes Ray’s best-friend-jealous. That way, Ray can continue to pine for him from a safe distance.

“So do you want to grab some burgers or something?” Michael asks, breaking the stretching silence. Ray’s head snaps up.

“What, now?”

Michael shrugs. “You got anything better to do?”

Ray bites his lip, glancing back at his game, before saving and quitting. “Guess not.”

***

Ray’s halfway through his Up-n-Atom burger which Michael insisted paying for when he freezes, staring at Michael with wide eyes. Michael, whose foot has been nudging against his while he gesticulated wildly, regaling Ray with his latest adventure.

“Wait,” Ray says, and Michael pauses mid-sentence. “Wait. Is this a date?”

“Duh.” Michael rolls his eyes and steals a fry from him. “So, anyway, as I was saying…”

[hotmesshapa]

VIP • Bang Chan

pairing: bang chan x female reader

genre: smut • DJ!chan x stripper!reader

rating: 18+

word count: 4.6k

warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, slight jealousy, very light orgasm denial and spanking, a bit of fluff

a/n: this is the first fic I’ve written in literal years and I have no idea what I’m doing, so I’m sorry in advance lol. also shoutout to these lovelies for being interested from the start 🖤 @mikoto-ica-fics @missskzbiased @bratforbin​ @jungkooksbroski​ 

There are three strict rules in the club: no touching the strippers, no romantic work relationships, and absolutely no sex in the club. Your manager had everyone sign off on his rules for a reason; you didn’t even want to imagine the chaos that could ensue if everyone was allowed to do whatever they desired in the club.

However, whenever Chan was DJing on the nights you worked, you always considered blowing off those rules. But you knew better. You both enjoyed your jobs at the club and wouldn’t risk getting fired over something as stupid breaking the few rules, despite the obvious sexual tension between the two of you. It’s not your fault that he always came into work wearing tight shirts that clung to his muscles in ways that made you drool. It’s not your fault that he flirted back whenever you playfully hit on him while handing off your playlist for the night. It’s not your fault you noticed the way his eyes hungrily stared you down whenever you were on the main stage, or the way his jaw clenched in jealousy whenever you took a guest to the VIP room.

But rules are meant to be broken, right?

Tonight starts out no different from any other work night: greeting the other girls and bartenders, taking a quick shot of tequila for an extra boost of confidence, and digging through your purse trying to find your flash drive of songs you want played for your routines.

“Got anything new for me, babygirl?”

You snap your head up at the sound of the handsome DJ’s voice. “Hello to you too, Chan,” you reply, rolling your eyes. He shamelessly checks you out and gives you a cocky grin that you can’t decide if it makes you want smack him or pounce on him “You know if Minho hears you speak to me like that, you’re in a world of shit.”

“Then it’s a good thing he’s not here tonight. But even if he was, he wouldn’t dare fire me. I’m the best DJ this club has.”

“Well then, fuck my drag,” Changbin pipes up from behind the booth, shooting a glare at Chan. “If you’re so great, set up your own table then.”

“Don’t listen to him, Binnie,” you giggle as you go back to searching for your flash drive, “He just likes to think he has all the power around here.”

Changbin scoffs as he continues to set up his mixers. “Only when you’re around. The other girls would kill to have him flirt with them.”

You feel your cheeks flush at the comment, but try your best to ignore the feeling as you turn back to Chan and hand him your music. “I have some new songs for tonight. Feel free to play whichever ones you want to watch me dance to.”

“Jesus,” Changbin rolls his eyes, “get a room, you two.”

You shoot Chan a quick wink, earning a smirk from him, and turn around to head to the dressing rooms, well aware his eyes are glued to you as you leave.

You close the door behind you and set your purse down on the vanity, checking your phone and cursing at the time. You hadn’t realized that your mini flirting session took up more time than expected, and start frantically getting ready, changing into your black satin two-piece that left very little to the imagination and applying a generous amount of body highlighter to every exposed part of you.

As you stare at yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but think about what Changbin had said. You and Chan flirt all the time, and normally it doesn’t affect you, but something about Changbin’s comment has your head spinning. Something about discovering Chan only flirts with you just makes you want to break the rules even more, but you don’t want to risk your jobs just because you desperately want him to dick him down. You wouldn’t do that to him. You sigh and slip into your stilettos, checking your appearance one last time before stepping out onto the main floor for your night to begin.

The night had been running smoothly as usual: three pole routines with the songs Chan chose from your collection (all by The Weeknd, of course), and a few rotations around the club flirting with guests, giving a couple of lapdances. You have a generous amount of bills tucked into your thong and bra, and you pull them out to count, trying to smooth them out and make them look somewhat presentable. You make your way to the DJ booth, where you find Chan leaning against the wall beside the booth, scrolling through his phone and sipping on a beer, while Changbin is behind the table, engrossed with the set he was playing.

“Here,” you say, handing Chan his tip. “You made some really good choices tonight. I had a feeling you’d choose The Weeknd.”

“What can I say,” he smirks, “You can’t just give me the option to play his hottest songs and not expect me to do anything about it. Especially when I get to watch you dance to them.” 

He suddenly leans in, closing any space there was between you two. “By the way, your routine to ‘Life of the Party’? So. Fucking. Hot,” he purrs, looking straight into the eyes.

“Chan,” your voice falters for a second, your eyes unintentionally dropping to his lips, before bringing them back up to meet his stare. You clear your throat in efforts to recover, desperately trying to ignore the heat rising in your core. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“Come on, Y/N, would that be so bad?”

“God, I can’t leave you two alone for one set, can I?” Changbin slides himself between you and the other DJ, throwing an arm over your shoulder and playfully wiggling his eyebrows at you both.

You elbow him in the ribs, earning a dramatic cry from him in return, and you can’t help but giggle. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Three shots? Maybe four? I don’t remember.” He hums in appreciation as you hand him a wad of cash. “I can’t believe I’m gonna pay this month’s rent with your ass money,” he laughs, trying to shake off as much body glitter from the bills you handed him before sliding them into his wallet.

You roll your eyes. “I can give you tit money, if you pref-“

“There’s my baby!”

The three of you spin around at the familiar voice, coming face to face with a young man, his dark hair grazing his eyes as he shamelessly checks you out.

“Jisung! I was wondering when you’d show up!” Changbin greets the man with a typical bro handshake, before swinging an arm around his neck. “Here for the usual?”

“Of course,” Jisung smiles at you, “It’s not a Friday night without a visit with Y/N.”

Jisung was one of your regulars; he came in every Monday and Friday to book private lapdances with you, and only you. The first night he booked you, he almost immediately admitted how enamored he was with you, and ever since then, he refused to book with any of the other girls. And to be fair, you might have allowed him to break one of the rules, letting him grab your ass, hips and breasts as you danced, especially since that always earned a better tip from him. But now, while he still did request lapdances every now and then, he mainly booked you just to talk, and fortunately for you, he still tipped generously. He was an assistant to a big-time music producer, a job that came with a handful of stressors that he just needed to rant to someone about, and you were always willing to be there to listen.

While the relationship you and Jisung formed over the past year is strictly platonic, that hadn’t stopped Chan from developing a slight sense of jealousy. And to make matters more complicated, Jisung was well aware of that tension and loved to push the DJ’s buttons, much to your chagrin.

Jisung shifts his focus to Chan, giving him a cocky smirk that you know will be followed by a snarky comment. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty lil’ lady all day. You don’t mind if I steal her away, do you?”

“Of course not,” scoffs Chan, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need my permission. She doesn’t belong to me.”

“Awww. And I know that must be difficult for yo-”

“But she doesn’t belong to you either.”

Jisung says nothing for a moment, before cocking his head at the DJ with a smirk and stepping towards him. “Oh? Is that so? I don’t see anyone else going to the VIP room with her the nights I’m here.”

“Guys-” you feebly try to take control of the situation, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“Y/N is a human being, not a fucking dog, Jisung. Nobody ‘owns’ her.” Chan crosses his arms against his chest, looking the younger man dead in the eye. “If anything, considering you’ve been coming here and paying her the big bucks, for what, a year now? I’d say she’s the one that owns you.”

Jisung smirk immediately disappears and you swear you can feel the air between the two men flood with tension. But within an instant, he smiles again, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Now, now, there’s no need to get your panties in a twist. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her and have some fun for the both of us. If you want, I can tell you all about it later.”

You quickly glance at Chan, his fingernails digging into the skin of his biceps, his jaw clenching so hard he looks like he could bust a vein in his neck.

“That’s enough,” Changbin interjects, massaging his temples in frustration. “Come on, Chan, you’re in the booth next. And Jisung? Just remember the club rules-”

“I know, I know,” Jisung rolls his eyes and turns back to you. “Shall we, baby?”

You nod, silently praying that Changbin will calm everything down once you leave, and the two of you head to the VIP room. Jisung opens the door follows you inside, jumping in surprise when you slam it shut and shoot him a glare, and he only laughs in response. “What? If you can tease him, why can’t I?”

You sit on the maroon leather couch in the VIP room, counting your tips and mentally making sure you had enough to pay your upcoming bills for the month. Jisung had left about twenty minutes ago, and the lack of muffled music from the main floor indicates that it’s finally 3am and the club is closed for the night. You release a long sigh, slouching in your seat and resting your head back on the couch. You close your eyes, your mind still reeling from everything that happened. Everything about tonight shocked you. Usually, Chan was good at hiding his jealousy, since the last thing both of you want was to scare away potential guests, or for Minho to notice. But Chan talking back? His reaction to Jisung’s last jab before leaving for the VIP room? Those were new.

You have never seen Chan that jealous, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, it was fucking hot. Thoughts of Chan not only standing up for you, but also being possessive of you, and what he could do to you out of jealousy filled your head, and you feel a sudden tingle shoot down to your core. Everything in you knows that you shouldn’t fuck Chan. There are rules, but you can’t stop your mind from imagining all the possible sinful acts you could do with him that you would do anything for at this point. You know that would be a bad idea, but the delicious wetness pooling between your thighs shoves any inhibitions you previously had out the door.

Fuck the rules.

You walk out onto the empty main floor, letting out a breath of relief to find Chan packing up his mixers - alone. You tap on the booth to get his attention, giggling when he jumps in surprise.

“You’re still here? I’d thought you’d be gone by now.”

“I was just counting tips,” you reply as you glance around the club, making sure you two were truly alone. “Chan… about earlier-”

“Yeah... sorry about that.” He lets out a long sigh and runs his fingers through his dark, messy hair, the tips of his ears turning pink in embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me. I just... you know I get a bit jealous sometimes, and that prick was being extra annoying about it tonight.”

“Not gonna lie though, your clapback was pretty great. And hilarious,” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He laughs. “Yeah, well I’m glad you thought it was, because Changbin sure as hell lectured me about it for a solid 15 minutes.”

A comfortable silence falls between you both as Chan goes back to packing up the table. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to ease any tension that might be lingering, and to bring up what you truly want from him. “Chan... Jisung and I just talk when we’re in the VIP room. Nothing happens-”

He shakes his head, keeping his focus on his current task. “You don’t need to tell me, Y/N. It’s honestly none of my business what you do with the guests. Like I said earlier, you don’t belong to me.”

“But what if I want to?”

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling at the look of utter confusion on his face. You lean in closer, lips inches away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Y/N… w-what are you doing?” Chan shakily asks, his stare flicking between your eyes and your lips.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you with such an intensity that ignites a fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, placing kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen, and it makes you smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing onto yours, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, indicating how desperately  both of you have been wanting to do this.

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling at the look of utter confusion on his face. You lean in closer, lips inches away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Y/N… w-what are you doing?” Chan shakily asks, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you back with such an intensity that further ignites the fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you softly moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, planting kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen as he brings a hand up to gently cup your cheek, and you can’t help but smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing down onto yours, nipping and sucking at your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you instantly give him. You can feel his hard on growing beneath his jeans as he rolls his hips against you once more, making the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Hey, so I’m done-”

Changbin’s voice abruptly interrupts your heated rendezvous, making you frantically scramble out of Chan’s arms and dive underneath the table, while Chan quickly pretends to continue breaking down the DJ booth.

“You guys are literally the least discreet people I know. It blows my mind that you haven’t been caught yet.” You can’t see him, you just know Changbin is shooting Chan one of his signature death glares, intended for the both of you. You poke your head out from behind the booth, which only gets you dramatic eye roll from the other DJ. “Just don’t make a mess and don’t forget to lock up,” he grumbles as he turns to leave. “Oh, by the way bro, you got shit on your face.”

You glance up at Chan, giggling at your lipstick smeared along his lips, jaw, and neck, the bright red color prominent against his pale skin. He narrows his eyes at you, and you innocently mouth the word “whoops”, grinning as he rolls his eyes.

As soon as you hear the doors close, Chan pulls you to your feet, lifting you up and pinning you to the table. He attacks your neck and collarbones with rough kisses, but thankfully not rough enough to leave any marks that’ll need to be covered up for your next shift. Desperate for more, you wrap your legs around his waist and grind your hips up against his, smirking against his lips as he groans into your mouth.

Chan begins to plant wet kisses down your stomach as his hands frantically move from your hips to his belt. He begins to undo the buckle before you grab his hands to stop him, which only gets out a small whimper in confusion from the man. “Not here,” you lean up to pull him closer and playfully nip his bottom lip, before grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling it so he’s looking you straight in the eyes. “The VIP room.”

Chan’s eyes darken with lust as he harshly kisses you again, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, but it makes the heat between your legs grow by the second. You let out a yelp in surprise as he lifts you into his arms without warning, making his way to the infamous room where he’s watched you lead guests into night after night.

The second he steps into the VIP room, it’s as if both of your desires are kicked into overdrive, the desperation for what you’ve been waiting for all this time becoming almost unbearable. You take his bottom lip between your teeth again and tug on it lightly, relishing the way his grip on your ass tightens exponentially. Chan kicks the door closed, not breaking the kiss for one second as he sits down on the leather couch, positioning you so that you’re straddling his lap. You can feel his prominent bulge underneath the rough material of his jeans as he ruts up against your clothed heat, and you whimper as you grind against him, desperately wanting more and trying to indicate how much you want him need him now. You feel his hands firmly hold you in place, halting your motions and making you whine in frustration, which only earns you a low chuckle in response.

“Use your words, Y/N. Tell me what you want.”

You roughy kiss him and swivel your hips against him, smirking when he releases a throaty groan against your lips. You take a hold of the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him away from you so you can look him in his lust-filled eyes. “I want you, Chan. All of you.”

Chan smirks, giving you a quick kiss before lifting you off his lap, pulling down his jeans and flinging them off to god knows where. You hastily rip off your two piece and toss it haphazardly across the room, giggling when Chan pulls you back into his lap the second you’re bare in front of him. His gaze is locked on your form, taking you all in before looking back into your eyes. He stares at you as if you are a goddess, and you feel your cheeks flush from the attention.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mutters, his hands sliding up and down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He brings one hand to your jaw, pulling you into a searing kiss, his other hand taking hold his rigid member and sliding it through your sopping folds, making you shameless moan aloud. “Ride me babygirl,” Chan mumbles as he begins to kiss and nip at your collarbone, “take what you want from me.”

With that, you slowly lower yourself onto his cock, keening at the way he deliciously stretches you out, finally giving you the taste of what you’ve been wanting for so long. Chan throws his head back, screwing his eyes shut, a sinful groan falling from lips as you sit on him completely. Giving yourself a moment to adjust to his size, you wrap your arms around neck and pull him back so he’s meeting your gaze. You take his hands and intertwine them with yours, pinning them behind his head as you begin to ride him, slowly lifting yourself off him before quickly dropping back down. A string of illicit moans and curses falls from Chan’s lips, his hands firmly gripping yours, desperately trying to keep himself from breaking your grasp and taking control. He trails wet kisses down your chest, licking your nipples before taking them into his mouth and rolling them between his teeth, making you whimper and lean into his touch. You pick up for pace, admiring the way his face contorts into different expressions of pleasure as he throws his head back and looks up at you with glassy eyes.

“S-shit babygirl...”

His bout of self control doesn’t last much longer, because the next thing you know, Chan rips his hands from your grip, placing them on your hips as he begins to thrust up into you, meeting your movements halfway, hitting you in just the right spot. He moves a hand from your hips to rub firm circles against your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

“F-fuck... Chan- oh my god...”

You try your best to continue to ride him, but you feel your thighs getting weaker and weaker with every thrust. You feel the pressure in your core building to the point of complete euphoria, when he lifts you off of him completely. You whine in frustration, feeling your high fade, hating how empty you feel without him buried inside you.

“Don’t worry baby,” Chan chuckles at your protests, suddenly flipping you around and positioning you on all fours on the couch. He places a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, before moving up to nibble your earlobe. “You’ll get to cum soon enough.”

He aligns himself with your entrance and eases into you, the new position allowing him to fill you deeper than before, making you both release illicit moans at the feeling. Chan slowly retracts his rock hard member from you, only to instantly plunge back into you, taking no time to pick up the pace, slamming into you at a rate that’s making you see stars. The momentum of his actions force you forward on the couch, making you cling desperately to the armrest in attempt to stable yourself, praying your shaky legs won’t completely give out underneath him. Suddenly, a sharp slap comes down on your ass, making you cry out and clench around him.

“Fuck... you like that, baby?” He massages where his hand had landed, only to spank your ass once more.

“G-god, yes Chan... p-please... harder.”

You feel another slap, come down on your other cheek, this time much harder, and you can’t help but moan loudly at the feeling, the delicious sting causing your grip around his cock to tighten exponentially. You hear him let out a low groan as his hips begin to slap against yours at a brutal speed, and you feel the knot in your stomach begin to unravel again.

“C-Chan, I’m... I’m close...”

“I know, babygirl, I can feel you.” Chan leans over you and plants rough kisses against your neck. “Go on, Y/N, cum for me.”

With his permission, you come undone around him, your release white hot, hitting you like a train and making your mind go completely blank as he continues to roll his hips into you, helping you ride out your high. Your legs feel useless under you, but thankfully Chan’s firm grip on your hips keeps you from collapsing from exhaustion. His thrusts start to become more and more erratic, desperately chasing his own high, groaning at the feeling of your tight pussy still throbbing around him. You can tell he’s close, and clench around him hard, smirking as you hear a string of curses fall from his lips, his hips rutting and quivering against you as he paints your walls white, and you hum in content at the warm feeling.

Chan slowly pulls out of you and falls back on the couch, gently pulling you so you’re laying on top of him. You leans up and playfully nip at his bottom lip, making him chuckle.

“That was...”

“Amazing,” you giggle, burying your face into his chest.

A comfortable silence falls between you two, and you eyes flutter close as you bask in heat the radiates from his body. He absentmindedly run his fingers lightly up and down your back, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” He quietly asks, as if he’s hesitant to bring it up again. “Do you want want to belong to me?”

You look up at him, and you swear you can feel your heart expand at the way he’s staring back at you with so much hope and adoration. “I do... god I really do, Chan, but you know we can’t. We barely manage to flirt without getting caught, so this has to be one-time thing-“

“I got offered a job at a different club,” Chan quickly blurts out. “It has better hours, more creative freedom since I wouldn’t be DJing for strippers... If I took it, would it change things?”

“You’d do that? But you love this job.”

“I do, but not gonna lie, I mainly love it because I get to see you.” His comment makes you blush, and you bury your face in his chest again if efforts to keep him from noticing, which only gets you a soft laugh as he gently tips your chin up to face him again.

“Honestly, if it means I can do what we just did with you whenever we wanted, without having to worry about stupid rules or anything, then fuck yeah I’d take another job. The only downside is I won’t be able to watch you dance when I work.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, laughing when you just roll your eyes at him.

You sit up, positioning yourself so that you’re straddling him once more. “That just means you’ll have to come back here as a guest.”

“Hmmm...” he mumbles as his eyes travel up and down your body, his hands reaching around and lightly squeezing your ass. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to follow the club rules though.”

“Don’t worry about those,” you purr, leaning down and nibbling on his ear, earning a quiet moan from him. “If you become my regular, all the rules are off the table.”

“I like the sound of that.” Chan gently cups your jaw and pulls you into a tender, but passionate kiss.

You smile against him, running your fingers through his hair, before pulling away slightly, your forehead resting against his. “Then I’m yours, Chan.”

“And I’m yours as well,” he whispers, pressing one more kiss to your lips, before wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the couch, earning him a yelp from you. He lays you down on the couch, hovering over you with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. “What do you say, let me show how I can really treat you in the VIP room?”

[orbitariums]

IDORU | Loki Laufeyson

requested by an anon: can you please write a fic about reader and loki where the reader had always liked loki and helps him in every way but it only takes the reader to be away from him to realize how big of a part she was in his life? thank you so much in advance ❤️

this is set wherein loki is king! just for the purpose of this piece. v angsty and over-dramatic, a lil long with lots of description btw.

i made a mini playlist for this fic :')

keep requesting!!

IDORU | LOKI LAUFEYSON

     The skies of Asgard shone kaleidoscopic colors on the day of your departure, Loki's way of showing appreciation for your eternal service. You felt like a bride as you marched slowly through the halls on the way to the throne, noting Loki's guards standing at either side of you. You lifted your somber head to see him sitting high and mighty. He was still, observing you, as if he were analyzing your every feature to keep as a relic in his memory. He appeared almost hopeful, eyes anticipatory as if he were waiting for you to announce a change of plans in your direction. He knew better, yet this was one of those rare times when he let his emotions come up to the surface. Those cold glares and void eyes were almost always shifted around you, when instead his lips sang songs of smiles and his eyes beamed with joy. Around you, Loki was truly a king.

    But you had earthly matters to deal with. A family you belonged to back on earth, who were now in need of your help. Like Loki, you too had been abandoned at birth, the product of an immortal god and a mere mortal woman, who took care of you on earth until you discovered your otherworldliness. But, shunned from the kingdom on the planet your father originated from, you were accepted into Asgard. Since you and Loki were teenagers, you had lived on Asgard, learning the ways of its people and the joys of its culture and traditions. You had been reborn as an Asgardian, and you had been the sole coordinator in that process.

      You had to learn to be a mother to yourself from then on, never truly knowing the meaning of family. You had families scattered all about different planets. Yet, you had learned to accept Loki as your most stable form of family. Though you were from different worlds, you related in your powers as nonhumans, and your dysfunctional family originations. You understood each other, for all your innocence, fluttering by his side like a purple butterfly, and his chaotic mischief, running ahead of you just to suddenly reappear at your side again. Your lord, and his queen.

    Of all the goodbyes on this planet, you had left Loki's for last, pushing what a "goodbye" really consisted of to the back of your brain. All your other farewells had been full, celebratory and drunk with the elixir of the gods. None of them held the same melancholy that you knew Loki's would. You weren't fearful of it, but you were hesitant. To say goodbye to Loki would be to say goodbye to the only family you truly knew. Your family back on earth, though you loved them as you would love your own biological mother, were not the same. 

Your brothers and sisters did not share immortality with you, didn't know the feeling of heaven and angels surging through their veins. You could never relate to them, not in the formative years of your life as a child and preteen. Loki practically raised you up from the depths of normalcy. You were willing to help your family now, in their time of need. You just didn't want to go back to the days you felt isolated and scrambled, with no real home.

     Asgard was your real home. Loki was your real home.

    Loki stood up from his seat on the throne and clasped his hands together in front of him as you walked up the cold, golden stairs, feeling the glow of Asgard surge through your feet. This ground was unlike any other, every step felt like the roots of Asgard were connected to you, starting from your feet and budding at the crown of your head. The concrete jungle of New York, where you would relocate, would be nothing like the glorious floors of Asgard. You swallowed hard as you came to this realization. Everything about this place was distinct, overflowing with magic.

     "YN," he spoke your name softly, his eyes locked on yours.

You began to bow your head, lowering down into a curtsy. As close as you were, he was still your king. Then again, he always had been. It was just a matter of giving him access to the throne.    

    "My Lord," you said, lowering your head as you bowed. But you were interrupted, feeling Loki's hands on your shoulders, bringing you back up to his level.

And without even being given time to process this, you felt him pull you into a hug. These public displays of affection were rare even from Loki, who was the sole person closest to you on this planet. You gasped softly, quietly, but easily found your body relaxing into the hug. He felt unnaturally warm, being close to you brought out the rare warmth inside of him, quite contradictory for where he came from. But you brought out something in him that was stronger than good versus evil. And you stayed this way for a while, Loki hanging his head down in the crook of your shoulder, closing his eyes and blinking solemnly. Though he had been dwelling on the matter of your departure ever since you told him, now it was incredibly real and inevitable. All his feelings were coming to the forefront, and he felt that by being close to you, it would lift the weight. This was the touch of two people in love.

      He pulled away, coming to his senses. His eyes though, were heavier than usual, and you could see the weight of your decision finally settling in Loki. After a beat, he smiled, still holding strong eye contact with you.

    "Years together, and this is how you leave me. At the very beginning of my reign," he said finally, the amusement clear in his tone.

      You laughed quietly, shaking your head. You and Loki shared a very particular sense of humor,

    "You've always reigned in my eyes."

    "I know," his smile turned upward into a mischievous smirk. "So tell me, what is it that mortals say when they leave?"

The word pierced through your heart: "leave." Because to leave could mean so many things - you could leave the room and come back, and similarly, you could leave Asgard and come back. It was just a matter of when, and you weren't sure when. But you knew it'd be a long time. You and Loki knew time was unreal, like any other human-made construct. But here it became much stronger than a construct, because it meant time apart, with no communication.

     "See you," you said, answering his question, your voice coming out in a low whisper. Because "see you" was objective- it meant you would see him again, but you didn't even know when that would be. You knew it wouldn't be anytime soon.

The boyish smile on Loki's face slowly disappeared, and turned into a saddened grimace. He knew from your tone of voice that you were unsure and saddened by the uncertainty of your leaving. Loki felt the same kind of love for you as you did for him. You were a major part of his life, always by his side and there for him, just as he was there for you. Memories of his life, you by his side, flashed through his mind - memories of you and him being mindless Asgardian teenagers who wreaked havoc in the name of mischief, blossoming into Asgardian adults who wreaked havoc in the name of justice. Now the very face he cherished and loved was going away, neither of you knew for how long. And so it was with a somber hand on your shoulder that he said goodbye, through pursed lips, his eyes deep and melancholy.

    "Goodbye."

The descent to Midgard was long and the thoughts of travel made your chest twinge with pain. You were coming back to a home that was never really a home to you. You'd known too many homes to know what home was, other than Asgard. Banished from your planet of birth, misunderstood on the planet earth where your family was rooted, and finally accepted on Asgard, home was a tricky subject. The return to earth was dismal and hopeless. Your heart sunk as soon as your feet hit the concrete ground, a cold and hard ground so different from the golden floors of Asgard, that your feet so easily bounced off of. Your Asgardian clothes seemed to weigh down on you. You were so heavy you fell through the earth.

      Life back in New York City where your family lived was fast paced and sleepless. At least, the life around you. But for you, every day was a sad day. When you weren't helping your family, healing your sick mother, you were looking out of the window at passing cars, your chin rested on your crossed arms on the window sill, wondering how people - humans, wandered around aimlessly like they did. Zombie-like, with no rage and no war inside of them, with hearts full of deceit disguised as plain mischief. You felt heavy and dark, dragging yourself around with every step you took, so different from the godly footsteps of Laufeyson.

     Every night you dreamed of Asgard, thought of it deeply, holding onto memories as if they would disappear if you didn't hold on to them. Like they were little wisps and not the strong building blocks of your character. You dreamed of Loki, convinced yourself that with his sorcerer abilities he appeared every night in your dreams, kept this faux reality in your head as something to comfort you. But every night, Loki became much more distant in your dreams, literally standing further away from you and slowly disappearing. It was like your mind was telling you how much you had been in Loki's life before your departure.

     And you had always been his helping hand, his muse, as he had been yours. The realization of how big a part you were in his life brought you both joy and deep sadness. Joy because you prided yourself on your loyalty and the strength of your friendship, which sometimes veered into something more than friendship, but had its roots in platonic love; and deep sadness because it reminded you how you could no longer actively be that big part of Loki's life, how you were away from him. You couldn't help but dwell on it, spacing out as you did chores around the house, unable to focus in your conversations with others, even dreaming of it.

    Years passed. Ten years, to be exact. And over those ten years, your mother had gotten better, your family grew stronger. You hadn't seen Loki or been to Asgard since. He had a kingdom to rule and you had a family to tend to. You had gotten better since, but you hadn't forgotten. You had adapted to human lifestyle but never fully - living back on earth was like wearing a pair of shoes that didn't quite fit, but they were the only pair you had. You still thought of your kingdom and your king, but didn't let it drag you down. If anything, you lived your life on neutral mode - never happy, never sad. But subconsciously, this might have been worse than having more emotional range. You had kind of submitted.

     But today, you were going back. And you didn't even know it - not until Thor literally showed up on your doorstep. Middle of the night, in a thunderstorm - how fitting.

      You thought your eyes were deceiving you, playing tricks on you, until you realized it really was him you were seeing. You blinked rapidly, your brows knitted together, and Thor just stood in front of you, serious as ever.

     "Hello, YN," he greeted you, and stepped into your house. Your family was all still asleep. He looked giant in comparison to the things around him.

    "Odinson? What... what are you doing here?"

    "It's my brother. He's in deep trouble."

    "Loki?" you choked out, swallowing hard. Years had gone by now, and you still trembled at his name.

    "Yes."

    "What- what's the matter?" you started pacing back and forth, thinking of every wrong thing that could've possibly happened to him.

    "He's in love, YN," Thor said solemnly, and you stopped pacing, taken aback by Thor's words.

Loki... in love? With who? And why? And why not you?

     "What?" you barked out, and Thor placed his hands on your shoulders.

     "With you."

    Suddenly, all the color rushed out of your face. You had realized that your feelings for Loki were always strong, and that you had love for him. But neither of you had actually considered the romance aspect of this. To actually be in love was hidden ground. To hear Thor say those words, to bring Loki back to you in such a dramatic fashion, made you feel so many things. A burst of joy, confusion, a mix of pixelated feelings. Mostly butterflies, in your stomach. The king didn't know what a girlish effect he had on you.

    But it had been ten years. What brought him to this conclusion so long after your departure?

    "What... what do you mean?"

     "I mean. The entire kingdom has been urging Loki to find a queen since he reigned. And, as you know, he was never able to. But he didn't know why back then. And now, he's realized it's because it was always you. Because he couldn't picture anyone being his queen other than you, because he loves you."

You shook your face, your hair falling to your forehead, rubbing your temples. This was a big revelation. You were glad to hear such a thing, to be able to mutually feel for Loki the way you had always been without realizing it. But it was troublesome at the same time.

    "I- so you mean to tell me... that Loki is in love with me? And he has been... all these years? And it took him ten years of me being gone for him to finally realize it?"

    "YN. You and I both know Loki doesn't know how to express his feelings, let alone feel them. And being away from you did a number on him, you should see the way he acts without you. More miserable than before."

    "It's just all so... messy. Why couldn't he come and tell me himself?"

    "Because he's traditional. He's waiting for you."

You blinked slowly, understanding what this meant. He was waiting for you on Asgard.

     "And he expects me to just pack up my things and come see him?" you snarled, that stubborness of yours coming back again. You loved Loki of course, it was just your brain's mechanisms to be so self righteous.

    "Essentially, yes. Will you come back to Asgard, YN?"

    "I have family here now, Odinson," you folded your arms across your chest, looking doubtfully at the ground. "I can't just leave."

     "At least come to see him. A day or two. It's been a decade. You can afford a visit."

| | |

    Your return to Asgard was just as glorious, if not more glorious than the day you arrived there. You seemed to be hit with that burst of energy and joy, the glow returning to your body, years of age and weariness falling off of your face. Again you felt young, and joyous. You were home. You were an Asgardian.

    You stood with Thor, outside the palace where Loki resided, staring ahead of you. Suddenly, you were hit with nerves. You hadn't seen Loki since you left. Something about seeing him again after being surrounded by such ungodliness made you feel below him. You feared you wouldn't be what he was expecting, because of how long it had been. You were afraid what seeing him again might mean to you.

     You walked towards his throne, like you had the day you said your goodbyes, and saw his back facing you in front of the throne. He turned slowly, wanting to take his time to see you. And you realized, with a wave of relief, that nothing had changed since those days. That seeing him made you feel reinvigorated, as though you were both teenagers again, running through the streets of Asgard. And as Loki took in your face, that face he realized he wouldn't see for a very long time on the day you left, every feature on his own face was drawn to a smile. You stood in front of him, dressed in traditional Asgardian dress, in your own skin again. And Loki didn't feel as though you were a hint beneath him.

     "Tell me," were Loki's first words. "What do mortals say when they see each other again?"

    "I want to hear it from you first. Not your older brother," you quipped, grinning mischievously, and Loki's dark brow quirked up as he smiled at you.

    "What?" he bit down on his lip, failing to hide his amusement. "You want me to say that I love you?"

    You smirked, and tilted your head slightly. It was reassuring to you that once again you were the only one who could bring out this side of Loki, warm up his cold heart so that he could interact on a fuller and brighter spectrum.

    "Essentially," you shrugged, and Loki smiled, his own eyes gazing into yours, which still shone beautifully but bore the troubles of someone who'd suffered too long - suffer no more, that was Loki's decision for you.

    "Do they actually say that?"

You nodded vigorously, and he shook his head playfully, shrugging as if resigned,

    "Fine." He took a long pause. "I love you."

   "I love you. I adore you," you pressed your lips to his - you didn't want to wait.

Ten years was long enough. And as your lips touched each others, you made a secret promise - you wouldn't have to say goodbye ever again.