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#like. i have a whole verse in my head now
xbomboi · 7 hours
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yapping about Briar. fellow Briar enjoyers assemble.
okay okay i don’t make it too obvious (or maybe i do, i wouldn’t know) but briar is my personal favorite character. i think about where the stories of all the characters would go and what their arcs would be a lot, but hers in particular is really important to me.
so i wanna talk about it.
first of all, she’s narcoleptic coded, right. we all know that. but her mom on the other hand reads to me, like, an alcoholic mother? and her dad is just willfully ignorant. either way, there’s a huge sense of neglect going on in that family. i mean go figure why briar would be the one doing most of the work raising her brothers. and of course she’s a party girl, because who’s gonna stop her? her parents? see yeah exactly.
so i don’t think it’s unreasonable to say she doesn’t have very strong parental figures in her life, at least not at home. but, and now you have to really hear me out about this one, i think baba yaga could take up a parental role in her life.
i know it isn’t much, but the seeds for her having at least a hint of a connection with baba yaga are there.
in the webisode “Stark Raven Mad”, baba yaga scolds briar for rambling about her party, and then as the commotion picks up she’s still exercising authority over briar in particular.
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then there’s thronecoming, wherein, when briar is sulking at the dance, upon noticing the picture on the projector, she asks baba yaga for answers, who provides them.
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and then skipping all the way to epic winter, after the girls become a little creeped out by her mannerisms and book it, briar is the one who makes sure to peak back in and give a parting remark.
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so i think there’s potential there to be explored. her feeling neglected at home and then finding solace in another adult at school would be neat.
but the fact that it’s baba yaga is important, so just put a pin in that and we’ll circle back to it.
now, i think out of the core four, she was (at least at first) the hardest to actually pin-point what the future of her story could look like. with raven, i think it’s pretty clear her journey is just continuing to combat the prejudices of the world as she fights for change, apple is now pretty much on a path to figuring out her own future as ruler of a kingdom and what that’s going to entail, and maddie is the goofball that’s there to have fun and be supportive along the way.
then there’s briar. and, let me be clear, no, in my mind that girl is not sleeping for 100 years with where things are heading; in the main universe of the story, briar will be free of the sleeping beauty destiny.
but it’s like, if she’s not gonna sleep, what more is there to actually do with her? what direction COULD her life go in? because if she’s no longer fated to sleep 100 years of her life away, then she can’t just party like there’s no tomorrow anymore. she’d need to decide what she actually wants to do with her life.
and i think i have an idea.
i mentioned her narcoleptic coding at the start with intent to bring it up again. see, you might notice that a lot of the fairytale aspects of ever after high can be read as allegories for real-world problems. for example, hunter and ashlynn’s relationship is treated in their world the same way society may look at queer couples or biracial couples. or how raven’s mom being trapped in a mirror is their world equivalent to not paying child support.
with that kind of correlation in mind, i think treating briar’s curse as a condition could open up an interesting opportunity. i think, in their world, curses as a whole could be viewed as a separate branch of medical specialization, with briar spearheading this notion of thought.
we know briar is well-versed in chemythstry already. in the webisode “Briar’s Study Party” she makes note of the fact that she’s been studying forever-after, and she demonstrates enough knowledge in the subject to enthusiastically teach it to her friends, who all end up acing their tests on it as a result.
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i think this is something she could potentially make a career out of. i think she could come to the conclusion that she wants to be able to help break curses for people everywhere, and could pursue learning to develop potions and elixirs to do so.
which could happen under baba yaga’s tutelage.
picture this: briar declares her newfound goal, to which baba yaga offers to teach briar all she knows in order to achieve what she’s set her sights on. briar—with an ounce of hesitance—accepts, and baba yaga officially takes her under her wing with the intent of mastering sorcery.
obviously, she wouldn’t lose who she is in this. she’s still gonna be an impulsive, adrenaline junkie who desperately needs a screentime limit on her mirrorphone. but in this process, she’d be rounded out by baba yaga and would in turn mature a bit from the experience. she’d get serious about life, but she wouldn’t let go of who she is at heart.
this could lead to her becoming the resourceful one in the main group. like on adventures, she’d be able to pull out a potion or whip something up (because i’m not going to let raven’s magic make her too o.p. she’s gotta have limitations) as a solution to problems. she could really have a role that proves useful and important to the story.
that’s my ideal pitch for where to take briar’s character.
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astranauticus · 3 months
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oh i absolutely gave myself way too much of a workload this semester but holy shit i finally have like... about 80% of that orv changgwi animatic down in concept and i am. cartoon villain cackling
#asto speaks#when (yes WHEN not IF) i get it done its gonna hurt so bad#i mean i dont think it'll get done *soon* cuz god my workload this semester is. something#but if my math isnt wrong the webtoon is only gonna get to chapter 188 (where i plan to cover up to in the animatic) in like june so#ive got time?? kinda?? anyway i literally *cannot* stop thinking about this fucking idea so mark my words i will get it done#also yes its going to hurt me to make too because i havent ever done an animatic for a full song yet#changgwi is one of those songs thats kinda impossible to split up idk#also because my BEST ideas are at exactly the beginning and ending of the song. convenient.#the ending was like my one major concern when i first thought of this idea actually cuz the part of the song that#originally made me think of orv was that second (third?) verse of like the spirit telling the story of its own death that felt very yjh idk#but i just had. no idea what to do with the second half of the song#but then i read the novel and chapter 188 hit me in the back of the head with a baseball bat#and now that ending might be my favourite part of the whole project#>:)#big massive sorry to all my rwd mutuals btw i know there was a bit where i kept talking about making another rwd animatic#i do still have that sitting in my brain just cuz ive already animated a few segments of the song#i just dont reaaally have a full plan for the whole thing exactly so#by this point im just seeing if we get any DX-TR lore in s5 that might inspire me idk#project 2 electric boogaloo#stay tuned idk i have a bit of a proof of concept i plan to make this/next week#its funny actually cuz i got introduced to this song through an arknights animatic i saw on bb and i spent#honestly an embarrassing amount of time worrying if some of the ideas i have in my plan were just like. subconsciously stolen from that one#but i was like procrastinating schoolwork today and trying to plan out some stuff and just#went and looked up every changgwi animatic on bilibili i could find#and turns out the stuff i was worried id been stealing are honestly just like. common among *all* the stuff ive seen that use that song?#like cuz the official lyric video for the song is just so. stylistically *striking* a lot of genetic material from that just makes its way#into everything people make using that song like at this point the monochrome red colour scheme and like#ending on a backwards timelapse (?) through the vid is basically like scenes a faire for any changgwi animatic LMAO
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googlein1942 · 8 months
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ive been so into rdr2 lately and i keep thinking about public nations verse where people making historical games/movies/shows/etc. consult nation people on historical tidbits and accuracy and whatnot, so queue Alfred “Favorite era of the US was the wild wild west” Jones finding his way to rockstar studios to help them out with the game accuracy/go on about whacky people he met during those days while the studio is just like write that down write that down
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idkyyyet · 11 months
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bro i luv spider-punk but i specifically wanna talk about his hair
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[image description: a gif from Across the Spider-verse of Hobie, without his mask, saying: "I was this cool the whole time." End image description]
he. has. wicks!!!
the origin of wick dreadlocks is florida usa, and are named due to the resemblance to a "candle wick" because of how they stick straight up and/or out!
now, wicks have a bad reputation even within the loc community.
its already known that like if you got dreads, generally, ppl think u are unkempt, and dirty, and things of that nature, but there is even more discrimination against wicks its unreal. like legit yall i cant even begin to explain the nasty shit ppl say about them because i will be sad.
its kinda just considered the "crazy Florida man hairstyle". and a lot of the hate is due to the fact that wicks, appear "unkempt" or things of that nature
there has been a lot of texturism in the loc community which has brought with it the idea that dreads need to be retwisted to be "properly" taken care of, and need to be flat on your head and all these other things that often bring with it the need to hide your natural hair. i get unsolicited advice on my hair all the time telling me "i need a retwist" because of the belief that black hair needs to be all tidy and stuff to be respected.
but the thing is, dreads aren't meant to be all neat and tidy all the time y'know. its black hair in one of its most natural forms. and who better to showcase that than hobie brown, spider punk?
wicks kinda go against everything that dreads are "supposed" to be and "supposed" to look like.
i just love everything about this movie but i especially wanted to like talk about this hair choice. hair most def has meaning, especially black hair, so i think this was a really cool and fitting design choice for his character and everything he represents.
(i did my best to like articulate my thoughts but hopefully this makes at least a bit a sense)
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ohimsummer · 3 months
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✎ . . .❝ SATORU, BE NICE! ❞
— poly! satosugu verse, satosugu x reader, feeding them, shoko cameo, satoru serial sweets devourer, kind of proofread, I wrote this in twenty minutes EUGH
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You’ve never heard of ‘selective smelling’ before, but you think Gojo might have it. Not thirty seconds after you’ve taken the lid off your peach cobbler, there’s the quick scrub of metal against wood flooring, and you turn around to see him sitting next to you at your kitchen island. His gaze darts back and forth between yours and the dessert in front of you. It’s a silent, obvious question. Or more like a demand, because if you even hint at a refusal then he’ll whine about it for hours.
Sighing, you ask, “Do you want som–“
“Glad you asked!,” he interrupts, smile growing as Gojo leans forward, chin in hand. “Yes, indeed I do.”
Shoko chimes in from your couch. “Tell him to piss off, he’s so greedy.” Geto nods in agreement.
He turns to glare at her. “Shut up, she offered.”
“Yeah, because you were gonna stare her down otherwise.”
Your eye catches Geto’s, and you both share a grin and a head shake. Creamy, vanilla ice cream plops down from your spoon to top off the peachy dessert, and Gojo halts his bickering at the sound of metal scraping hard plastic. He looks to see you shoveling the spoon into your mouth, watches the content look on your face as you savor the flavorful taste. Comparable to a begging puppy he is, wide, pleading eyes and you can practically see a tail wagging behind him as Gojo hungrily eyes the bowl. Ocean blues flicker in your direction, brows raised in a ‘my turn?’ as his hand creeps toward the spoon.
“Ah, ah.,” you scold him. “I’ll do it, you might eat half of it in one bite again.”
You find Geto slipping into the chair behind you as you scoop up another, normal amount of peaches and vanilla on the spoon. Gojo’s eyes light up, bright and vibrant, you think you see a trace of drool on the corner of his mouth. Though his excitement is swiftly replaced with confusion when you pull back, avoiding the swipe of his hand to grab the utensil from you.
“Open up, ahhh!,” you mimic the command to him, holding a hand beneath the spoon to capture any drips. Satoru obeys without complaint, delight shining through his expression as you dip the spoon into his mouth, retrieving it from closed lips to find it now empty. In typical dramatic fashion, he gives a loud moan, beaming the whole time, enjoying the sweet taste of peaches and cinnamon.
“Good boy.” And you pat the white strands atop his head. Gojo’s eyes flit open at your praise, chews hesitating for a second, before flecks of red begin to sprinkle across his cheeks. Geto chuckles at his friend’s embarrassment, before looking at you offering him a taste.
“Want some?”
Gojo, face still a light shade of red, wraps possessive arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder to lean his head against yours. “Don’t offer him any, it’s for me.”
And if Geto didn’t want some before, he definitely wants a try now. “Sure, I’ll have some.”
Call it utter betrayal, or Gojo’s craving for your attention at all times, but either way he doesn’t like the victorious look Geto gives him as he leans forward to take the spoon between his lips, allowing you to feed him in the same fashion.
“Oops!” Gojo looks away as he readjusts, bumping your arm and causing you to smear a dollop of ice cream on the corner of Geto’s mouth.
“Satoru!,” you give him a disapproving look, thumbing away the white cream and licking it off your finger, not noticing the way Geto studies the motion. “Be nice, or you don’t get anymore!”
He only gives a pouty ‘fine!’, and watches in what might as well be agonizing pain as the spoon disappears into Geto’s mouth. He chews it once, twice, a couple times, and then swallows it down.
“Like it?,” you ask.
“Very much.” Geto’s never been too big on sweets. “Can I have another try?”
Gojo leans forward to stare right at you, pulling you into hypnotizing rivers of sky blue. “No, it’s my turn!”
He’s never been one to argue just for the sake of it, but over you, Geto will gladly engage. “You’re gonna end up eating most of it anyway.”
“That’s not the point, and I got here first, wait your turn!”
And while they bicker, you just eat spoonful after spoonful, raising indifferent brows at Shoko and she smirks in return. Maybe it’ll be all gone by the time they decide who goes next, and neither of them will get another taste.
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@staryukis satoru dog comparisons so I thought of u bestie <3
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shadowtriovibes · 10 months
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it's a sign of the times
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Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3.2K
Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."
the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.
You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.
Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.
You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.
You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).
It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.
“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”
“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.
“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.
You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”
“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”
“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.
“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”
You scoff. Unbelievable.
“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.
You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.
“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.
“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.
Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.
“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”
“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.
“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”
“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”
The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.
Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.
Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.
“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”
“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”
You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.
One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910
We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.
Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.
Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.
Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.
“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.
“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”
Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.
“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”
“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.
“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”
“What is it?” you breathe.
“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”
The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.
“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”
“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.
Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”
“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”
Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.
“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”
“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”
“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”
But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.
That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.
Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.
“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”
“Who?” Ominis asks.
“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”
“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”
You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.
Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
At once, the three of you freeze.
“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”
“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”
Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.
Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.
Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.
“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”
“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.
“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.
“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”
“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”
You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.
“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”
“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”
“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.
“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”
You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.
“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.
“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”
Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”
“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”
Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”
“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”
Well, that certainly clears things up.
Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.
You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.
“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”
You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.
“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”
“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”
“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”
“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”
“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”
Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.
“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”
Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”
“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”
Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.
“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”
“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”
“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”
You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.
“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”
“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.
“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”
“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”
“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”
Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”
You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.
The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.
You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.
You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.
“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.
“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”
You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”
He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.
“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”
“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”
He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.
Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.
“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”
“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”
You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”
You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”
Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.
“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”
---
[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]
4K notes · View notes
gimmeurtmi · 3 months
Text
no nut november — 2min
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader x lee minho
tags: established relationship, polyamory, smut!!!🔞
warnings: swearing, alcohol, throuple, heavy mxm, use of “bunny”, “bubs”, "baby," clubbing, voyeurism, a no nut november bet, 2min who are little shits, reader is implied demisexual but can be read otherwise, fingering, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, lmk what i forgot <3
inspo: i mustn’t say 🤭
notes: one might ask, “lils, why tf are you posting a no nut november fic in january?” and i will simply answer “time is but a cage i cannot be locked into.”. no but seriously i had this idea in like october and well. you know. so i finished it now because i missed my 2min throuple verse! im not madly in love with this and i didn’t know how to end it but i also thought it was lowkey cute so here it is!!! mwah! <3
{ wc: 4638}
“You two are crazy,” you scoffed, before taking another sip of your brightly coloured cocktail. It was Minho’s birthday celebration, albeit two days later than the actual birthday, but it was the weekend and easier for your schedules to align for a night out. 
“Come on, bubs, we’re serious,” Seungmin said, pushing his elbows forward and inching closer to you. It was odd of the pair of them to sit together and not fight for the seat beside you on the booth, but now you’ve understood they had an ulterior motive tonight. Trying to rope you into their craziness. 
“I have no issues with not having sex,” you start, shaking your head at Minho’s brow raise, “you both know that’s not the thing I care about here.”
“Exactly,” Seungmin grinned. “You love us and not our monster di—“
“—shush!!” You quickly urged him, watching your waitress approach your table to check on your service. You order six more shots. 
“I don’t understand the game, then,” you looked between them, eyeing them suspiciously. 
“We were talking about it, and I think out of the three of us Seungminnie is least likely to make it,” Minho explained. 
“But I’m a virgo,”
“But he’s a virgo,” you both echoed. Minho rolled his eyes with a small fond smile on his face, shaking his head. 
“Yes, there’s that. And we kept going back and forth about it so we thought we should just try it and see who actually makes it a whole month.” 
“This is incredibly stupid,” you decide, quickly shutting your mouth when the waitress arrives with your shots. You take one immediately and down it. 
“You’ve done stupider things,” Seungmin said, leaning back in his chair. He’s close to admitting defeat, you can tell. And so can Minho, so he turns his full attention to you and grabs your hands. 
“It’ll be so fun, come on. Imagine how frustrated the puppy will get when he keeps trying to hump our—“
“—hey!” Seungmin slapped Minho’s shoulder, earning an endeared giggle from the older. 
“Why do you two wanna do it so bad?” You squinted at Minho, watching as he fixes his gaze on yours in determination. 
“Because I wanna be right,” he rubs his thumb against your hand. “I think he’ll crack first, and then you. And then me.” 
“I will last a whole month. Maybe even two.” 
“Bubs, this isn’t just no sex with us. This is no touching at all. Nothing,” Seungmin tries. 
“No kissing even?” You squeak. 
“Yes kissing!” Minho practically yells, squeezing your hand tightly. He looks between the pair of you, alarmed as his bunny teeth peek out of his gasp. “Definitely lots of kissing!” 
Seungmin laughs almost evilly at the pair of you, his bangs hiding his eyes slightly as he shakes his head. 
“So just no sexual stuff,” you try to clarify. “That’s too easy.”
“Then let’s do it!” Minho exclaimed, grabbing one of the two shots placed in front of him and downing it with a dramatic head swing. 
Seungmin rolls his eyes before downing one of his pair. 
“I feel like you two are up to something,” you say, tapping your fingers against Minho’s palm. Seungmin scoffs. 
“Why would we be up to something, bubs?” 
“Yeah, bunny,” Minho blinks innocently, “what would we be up to?” 
You scrutinise Minho’s ears, studying them carefully for any sign of redness—but the ambience is relaxed and luxurious around you, which for whatever reason means there’s barely enough light to tell if Minho’s ears are telling the truth or not. 
“Hey,” Seungmin grabs your arm, squeezing softly, “let’s just forget about it, then. Hyung and I thought it would be funny but if you don’t want to then there’s nothing to discuss.” 
“I’ll think about it,” you conclude. 
It’s then you remember the other round of shots you each have waiting in front of you, and gesture to your boyfriends for a cheers. You dedicate it to Minho’s birthday before clinking your glasses together. Then, after three more rounds, Minho decides he’s ready for the club. 
It’s packed full of people, Minho’s arm protectively wrapping around your stomach as he shields you from behind. Seungmin holds your hand tightly in front you, the three of you single file as he pushes through the sea of party goers. It’s just the last Saturday of October, it shouldn’t be so busy, but Minho says he wants to stay so the three of you stay. 
Seungmin pushes all the way to the very heart of the dance floor where the bass is so loud you feel it in your ribcage. You can barely see anything around you—bodies pushing you from one side to the other, but you know it’s safe since Minho is completely behind you. Like your personal shield. 
You tug Seungmin’s hand, pulling him closer to you until he stumbles, Minho’s other arm reaching for Seungmin’s spare one. 
The three of you start dancing along to whatever overplayed club tune is on, so close no one could possibly separate you. So close you feel Minho’s hardness against your ass. You couldn’t exactly classify it as dancing, at least not by any standards Minho would allow. You’re basically just grinding on each other in time with the music. It’s a very fast song. 
“Seung,” you have to yell in his ear, “he’s gonna get needy if we keep dancing like this.” 
Seungmin, always quick to solve problems—or indeed, make them worse—grabs Minho by the back of his head and kisses him as messily as he possibly can. The grip on your hip tightens, and even the music isn’t loud enough to drown out Minho’s deep moan. You aren’t actually sure if you heard it or you could feel it vibrating against you but soon Minho grabs your jaw and starts kissing around it, Seungmin attaching his lips to yours. 
The three of you aren’t the biggest participants of PDA, mainly because of the judgemental eyes that it brings with it, but the veil of alcohol and club induced horniness means you know you can get away with it here. Besides, it’s so dark and incredibly loud that no one is really paying attention to the three of you anyway. 
You feel Minho sucking onto your skin, your senses clouded by Seungmin’s tongue—but Minho’s hands are obviously inchining higher and higher, getting dangerously close to your chest. 
“Min,” you let out softly, detaching yourself from Seungmin for only a moment to let out your weak sounding warning. 
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Minho grumbles, grabbing Seungmin and you by the wrist as he pushes his way outside. 
A very tense taxi ride back, and almost two hours of worshipping the birthday boy later—the three of you fall on the bed, naked and sweaty and spent. 
As the one with the most working limbs, it’s your turn to get water and snakes and warm clothes to change into. You quickly wrap yourself up in your fuzzy robe before running to the kitchen. You grab two bottles and the fruit Minho cut up before you left “just in case” as if you weren’t all aware your evening would end the way it did. 
When you returned, hands full, you saw a rare tenderness shared between your boyfriends you don’t often get to see. 
They’re too often caught up in their fake bickering and inability to show their feelings that it can be easy to forget just how much they love each other. 
You try not to make too much noise, not to disrupt their bubble as you watch Seungmin, a love sick puppy look in his eyes as he combs Minho’s sweaty hair back from his face, before he leans down to kiss him ever so softly. 
Minho barely moves, which is expected after what the pair of you did to him, and smiles softly against Seungmin’s full lips. You feel your heart bursting at the sight of them, so wrapped up with each other, and it gets harder and harder not to join them. Not to mention your full hands. 
You slowly sit down on the bed, Minho’s fingers blindly reaching for your hand and you wrap your fingers around his once you put all your items to the side. You were going to grab clothes too but Minho isn’t going to let go of your hand any time soon—so you simply admire the scene, your boyfriends exchanging soft kisses. 
“Hyungie,” Seungmin giggles after a few minutes, “you can’t fall asleep yet.” 
“But—“ he puckers his lips up, perfectly pillowy as he demands more kisses. His eyes are closed shut, a small muted whine leaving him as he’s left kissless for more than two seconds. Seungmin looks up at you with his signature shit eating grin and gestures for you to give him an apple slice, promptly shoving it into Minho’s puckered up lips. 
Minho only opens his eyes for a moment to recognise what’s been shoved into his lips, before he obediently gets to eating his fruit with his eyes still shut. 
Seungmin gestures to the water bottle, telling you in sign language he’d like to dunk all of it on the incredibly peaceful Minho below him. You laugh loudly before crossing your hands in an X. 
Minho silently demands more, and you have to sit him up this time to properly eat and hydrate, and the three of you finish all the fruit and water in relative silence. 
It’s only after you’ve washed and dressed (and Seungmin changed the sheets) that Minho speaks up. 
“That was a really good birthday,” he mumbles, incredibly tired now that most of the adrenaline wore off. 
“You’re gonna be really sore tomorrow though,” Seungmin chuckles, ignoring the pout Minho sends his way. 
You giggle, agreeing with Seungmin before you wrap your arms around his middle and promptly fall asleep. 
Seungmin makes your coffee the way you like it the next morning. Minho is still asleep and you decide you don’t want to disturb him yet. 
The pair of you listen to the news for a bit and then put on a rerun of a variety show before you speak up halfway through the episode. Seungmin quickly lowers the volume. 
“We should do it,” you say, sipping from your lukewarm coffee. 
“Do what?” 
“Your stupid no sex for a month pact,”
“Was the sex that bad last night?” He blinks at you, mouth gaped and perfectly round. 
“Maybe it was just that good that you broke my cunt and I need a month off,” you raise your eyebrows at him. 
Seungmin starts to smirk just as a grumbled voice says, “yeah, me too. Never touch me again, Kim Seungmin.” 
Minho crashes on the chair next to yours, groaning as he sits down, before nuzzling his face into your shoulder. 
“So you two agree I have a monster d—“
“Seung!” You both yell out. 
*
November 28th 
The boys have been away for weeks. 
They didn’t quite consider the pact they made was perfectly timed with their packed schedule and so there was no real way for you to break it anyway. Even if you were to resort to the classic solution of phone sex, they rarely had time. 
There was always a good night text, and a good morning selfie, and the unappealing close ups of Minho’s food for the day. Your group chat was still as active as ever with the boys exchanging stories and you sharing all your personal gossip with them. 
But there was no time to think about the bet. 
That was until they came back home two days ago.
You were doing perfectly fine before they had to be in your house every day, sharing your bed, walking around with just a towel after their morning showers. 
Both of them were incredibly irritating that way—existing next to you without instigating anything, without sharing tender kisses with you while they touched your body.
You meant what you said then, of course the sexual aspect of your relationship wasn’t a top priority but there was an intimacy you craved with your boyfriends that you always felt during sex and with them being gone for work for the better part of a month, it was the first thing you wanted when they came back. 
But you stayed strong, you wouldn’t let yourself be the one to lose. 
Last night you fell asleep before the boys even came back home, but at some point you felt hands around your shoulders and a knee against yours and so you knew they were back with you. 
And in the morning after blinking your eyes open, you were met with Minho’s beautiful face. You smiled softly to yourself, a content sigh leaving your chest as you snuggled closer to your boyfriend. The other side of the bed was empty, but you could hear a faint melody coming from the shower, so you knew Seungmin was awake and well, too. 
After spending the morning cuddling with a half sleeping Minho–Seungmin only annoying you once when he walked over and kissed your shoulder in greeting, before shaking his wet hair all over the pair of you–you had to get up to do some errands around town. 
Your boyfriends offered to come with you but you insisted they shouldn’t, after all, Minho could barely keep his eyes open for more than ten minutes and Seungmin had a vocal lesson in an hour. You didn’t want them to go out of their way for you when you needed to take care of boring adult stuff anyway. 
While you were still stuck in traffic, Seungmin sent you half a dozen pictures of Minho’s sleeping face with a text that said ‘help me hide his corpse’. 
You knew Seungmin was obviously bored but you couldn’t possibly help him from so far away, instead you challenged him to a game of one on one trivia through an app you both liked. 
At one point, when your phone said you were still thirty minutes away from home, Seungmin didn’t take his turn–so you concluded that either Minho woke up or Seungmin found something more interesting to do. 
When you got back home half an hour later, you discovered exactly what it was that Seungmin found more interesting than your trivia game. 
“I’m home!” You announced as you walked in, quickly taking your shoes off and washing your hands. It was quiet in the house otherwise, and with the door to the bedroom closed you assumed they were both napping again. They always came home tired from their schedules and the mixture of jet leg so you tried your best to make a snack as quietly as possible. 
But then you heard a moan. 
“Seungminnie,” Minho said softly through the walls, “so good.” 
You quickly snapped up from your chair, rushing towards the bedroom. 
You had no doubt about what you heard (Minho was never good at volume control) but you still wanted to confirm it fully. Slowly, quietly, you opened the door to the bedroom. And there, sure enough, were your boyfriends half naked, kissing, their hands down each others’ boxers. 
They haven’t noticed you yet, Minho's eyes were closed in pure pleasure as Seungmin switched between kissing him and moaning against his cheek. You could see both their hands moving in sync as they jerked each other off—still completely unaware you could see everything. 
At least you won their stupid bet. 
You always love being the centre of their attention, but watching them was a completely intoxicating experience. Getting to notice every little quirk of Minho’s eyebrows as the pleasure took over him, watching Seungmin’s uncaring facade disappear as he gets lost in the feeling his boyfriend provides. You could feel your wetness soaking through your clothes, you could feel the dull throb of arousal between your legs—but you didn’t want to do anything other than watch them. You should probably make your presence known, but all you wanted to do was keep watching.
You could tell Minho was getting close since he scrunched his eyes shut and started whimpering out Seungmin’s name, and you could tell Seungmin was close since he wasn’t making any noises at all, and you watched in awe as they sped up their movements. 
“Hyung, I’m close,” Seungmin whimpered out. 
“Me too,” Minho groaned. “Together baby, okay?” 
You had to stop yourself from moaning out loud at their words, from gushing at the small kiss Minho pressed against Seungmin’s lips before the pair of them groaned out together as they came. 
Seungmin is the first to open his eyes, and he reaches for some wipes to help clean them both up. He smiles, soft, as he kisses Minho’s cheek. 
“Do you feel better, baby?” He asked, barely above a whisper. 
Minho smiles, one thin line, as he nods quickly before shutting his eyes and snuggling into Seungmin’s chest. 
They still haven’t noticed you. 
“You want to sleep more?” Seungmin asks as he plants a kiss on the top of Minho’s head. 
“I wanna make dinner before Y/N gets back, she’s probably gonna be hungry when she gets here.”
You feel your heart speed up at the mention of your name, but they haven’t even looked in your direction yet. So you don’t move. 
“Okay, let’s rest for a bit first,” Seungmin concludes. Minho hums in agreement, moving closer to his chest and planting a small kiss on his heart. 
“I don’t think she’s been eating well while we were gone,” Minho mumbles, “you two are exactly the same. If I don’t cook it’s only takeout for your lazy asses.” 
“That’s rude,” you chuckle. 
They both gasp, and Minho’s eyes shoot right open as he realises what he’s heard. 
“Bubs!” Seungmin yells. “H-how long have you been home?” 
“Long enough,” you smile, as innocently as you can allow yourself, before making your way over to the bed. You sit on the edge of it trying your best to keep a serious face as the boys look at you slightly apprehensive. 
They both sit up, moving away from each other as if to prove that definitely nothing happened between them two seconds ago. 
“But how long?” Minho asks, eyes wide. 
“I should ask you two the same thing, no?” You tilt your head to the side, eyebrows high on your face. 
Seungmin chuckles nervously, looking at Minho before looking back at you. 
“Nothing happened, you know. We were just cuddling,” Minho is quick to say. 
“Right,” you nod, “of course.” 
“Seriously, bubs, it’s was just—“ 
“—you two cumming at the same time?” They both let out a sigh of defeat, realising they can’t possibly lie to you since you’ve seen it all unfold. 
Minho shakes his head softly before reaching for your wrist. He rubs his thumb against the back of your hand before sighing softly. 
“Truth is, we made the bet because we wanted to see how horny you’d get,” Minho rolls his eyes, “but it just made Kim Seungmin more unbearable than usual.”
“Lee Minho,” he says quickly, “that is not the truth.”
“He doesn’t even respect his elders,” Minho mumbled at you, a disapproving frown on his lips. You roll your eyes before turning to Seungmin with a questioning raise of your brows. 
“Hyung got horny first,” Seungmin corrects him. 
“I did not,” he retaliates. 
“You did. You dragged me to the dressing room after MuCore and you—“ Minho slaps his hand onto Seungmin’s mouth, his upper lip curling in on itself as he tried his best not to yell too much at his boyfriend. 
“It was a frustrating day,” Minho explains, trying to regain some of his pride back. 
All you can do is laugh. “So your plan to make me horny backfired on you?”
They both nod. “I was embarrassed about it so we didn’t want to tell you, we thought we’d just let the month end and not bring it up again.” 
“Hyung,” Seungmin sighs. They share a look between themselves, something you can’t understand, before Seungmin turns to you. He plants a soft kiss on your cheek. 
“I’m sorry we didn’t say anything. We had a lot of sex this month,” 
“Like, a lot,” Minho agrees with a giggle. 
“And we wanted to tell you! But we also thought it would be funnier if you cracked like Minho did.”
“I told you guys it was a stupid idea,” you grin. 
“You’re not mad we didn’t tell you?” Seungmin asks, and Minho squeezes your hand tightly. 
“No,” you shrug, “it’s not like you did anything wrong. You just proved that I’m the best out of the three of us,” you giggle—laughing harder when Seungmin’s mouth gaps. 
“So it’s all good? We’re fine?” Minho asks. 
You hum softly. “You had a lot of sex this month, right?” They nod. “And I haven’t had any at all.”
“True,” Minho starts playing with your fingers, a small smirk forming on his lips. 
“So we need to balance the scales a little, don’t you think?” 
“Oh, definitely,” Seungmin nods eagerly, jumping forward to grab your hips and plant you firmly on his lap. 
Instantly, Minho straddles Seungmin’s knees, wrapping his arms around your middle. Seungmin grabs your jaw, crashing his tongue against yours as you moan into his mouth. You didn’t realise just how much you were craving your boyfriends touch until that very second you received it and then your whole body lit on fire with the longing you had for them. 
You didn’t even need to ask for more, as before your brain could even tell your tongue to use words, Minho was taking off your shirt and bra. He cups your tits, pinching and twisting your nipples as you moan loudly. 
A month without touching yourself, days of your lovers cuddling up to you in your sleep, and then watching them cum at the same time has all caused you such extreme horny brain fog you didn’t even know what to do with yourself or how to react. All you could do was throw your head back onto Minho’s shoulder and let your hips chase the pleasure you craved against Seungmin’s lap. 
“Seungminnie,” Minho coaxed softly, “can you suck on bunny’s tits for us?” 
Seungmin eagerly nods, his hair jumping with the motion before he wraps his full lips around your nipple. Minho kisses your shoulder before he runs a hand through Seungmin’s hair with a soft, “good job.” 
Seungmin’s lips sent waves of pleasure up and down your body, an aching throb shaking against your core as you grow more and more desperate. Luckily, neither one of them is in any position to make fun of you or hold it against you. In fact, they’re both so eager to keep making you feel good. 
Minho slips his hand into your underwear, quickly finding your clit and rubbing figure eights against it in a bruising pace. 
You don’t think more than ten seconds pass before you grab Seungmin’s hair tightly, and chant out that “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” 
Minho kisses your neck as it rushes over you, while Seungmin squeezes your thighs as they start shaking. 
Your vision blurs for a moment or two before you refocus, and catch sight of a bewildered Seungmin wiping his lips. 
“Bubs that was so fucking quick,” he sighs, amazed. “How?” 
“Min, I need another one,” is all you provide for an explanation. 
Minho is quick to follow his orders and resumes his previous pace as he rubs your clit again. It takes a few seconds longer and Seungmin notices, so he quickly gets back to teasing your tits for the extra stimulation you’d need. It doesn’t take long after that, and although your walls flutter around emptiness it’s so much better than not cumming at all. You moan loudly as it hits your entire body. 
Minho plants kisses all around your face as you catch your breath, but you don’t even care about breathing. You mumble out, “more.”
“My turn this time!” Seungmin rushes out, pulling your underwear off and softly rubbing your sensitive clit. 
Minho leaves you with a firm kiss before he lays back down next to Seungmin, watching your face with laser focus. 
“You’ve been waiting for this, bunny?” He says lowly. You nod quickly as you make no effort to stop the broken moans tumbling out your chest. “Your cunt has been so eager for us, huh?” 
“M-Min, I’ll fucking cum again—“ Seungmin applies more pressure to your clit, rubbing as hard and as fast as he can before you fall forward with the impact of another orgasm. 
“Holy fuck,” you say once you catch your bearings. 
“That was fun,” Seungmin grins. “Want more, bubs?” 
“Yeah, yes,” you moan, still aching for more as your clit throbs, “want something inside me.” 
The boys exchange a look before Minho rubs your shoulder. He drags you off Seungmin’s lap, slowly, before he places you between the pair of them. 
He makes sure to spread your legs as you get comfortable on your back. 
“I’m not ready yet,” he says with a small kiss to your temple, “think my fingers will be enough?” 
“Please,” you nod. 
“I’m not ready either,” Seungmin says while lacing his fingers with yours, “but since my hand is much bigger wouldn’t you prefer my fingers?” 
“I-I-I,” is all you manage to stutter out, your brain too slow after three orgasms. You don’t even know who they’re trying to tease, you or the other, but there’s only one thing on your mind. “I just wanna cum.”
“But you already did, my pretty bunny,” Minho brushes your lips together softly, “are you gonna be so greedy that you’ll ask for both our fingers for a fourth orgasm?” 
“How many times has Seung made you cum in the past month?” You manage to accuse. 
“About fifteen? fourteen?” Minho shrugs. 
“Then you owe me twelve more,” you whine. 
Minho nods slowly, blinking a few times before he smiles. “Mine or Kim Seungmin’s?” 
“Both,” you groan, “just take turns I don’t care.” 
“Fuck that’s demanding,” Seungmin chuckles dryly. “Guess we do owe her, though.” 
“Guess we do,” Minho shrugs. 
Seungmin leans down to kiss your neck softly and you feel his hand sliding up your thigh, slowly circling your entrance before sinking inside you. The stretch feels so good it echoes to your thighs and you moan loudly as it deepens. You feel Minho’s fingers crawl up your thigh before your walks tighten as more slips inside you. You blink your eyes open to see it was in fact both of them. 
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you sob out as you feel six fingers inside you, a loud and wet noise accompanying their movements as they slide their fingers in and out, perfectly synchronised with each other. 
“Minho-hyung made me cum twenty times, so we owe you thirty two all together,” Seungmin says simply. 
You clench tightly at those words, at your boyfriends’ promise, and they both smirk at each other when they feel it. 
It was a long evening after that, the boys insisting on going until you had to tap out and say you couldn’t take anymore. They kissed you softly and apologised again but you told them they were certainly forgiven. You didn’t even actually need twenty nine more orgasms from them. But they insisted that was the only way to make it up to you that they even suggested such a silly bet just to get a reaction out of you. 
Minho does eventually feed you, and Seungmin brushes your hair after your shared shower, and they promise to keep kissing you until you fall asleep.
They never break any of their promises to you, and by the second week of December their debt is cleared too.
1K notes · View notes
ikarakie · 1 year
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steve's favourite thing to do is interchange the names in songs with people's he knows. usually just as a bit of fun, like singing "gimme, gimme, gimme ro-bin after midnight!" to make her laugh in the car when she's had a bad morning. or, "i wish that i was dustin's girl!" in a horrific impression of suzie that makes the kid body slam him in retaliation.
so one day, when him and eddie are hanging out in his kitchen, amicably flitting around each other as they make food, he can't help himself. the drums start up from the radio in the corner and a smile spreads across his face, because he thought of this one weeks ago and has been dying to use it.
he whirls around and points at eddie, who's looked up at the sudden movement, with the business end of a wooden spoon. "oh, eddie you're so fine! you're so fine, you blow my mind! hey, eddie!" he takes a step forward, relishing in how munson's jaw drops to the floor. "hey, eddie!"
he does a sort of half shuffle, half dance around to eddie's other side, where he continues, jumping up and down and shaking his head back and forth with the beat, "oh, eddie you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind!" he gets up in eddie's space, to where they're practically nose to nose, "hey eddie!"
"oh my god, what is happening?" eddie asks, trying his hardest to suppress a grin. steve continues to dance and sing like an idiot, abandoning the spoon on the counter to grab both eddie's hands and pull his arms back and forth in an attempt to get him dancing too.
by the start of the first verse eddie is half-heartedly bouncing along, watching steve with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. he thinks he's fucking beautiful like this- big blinding smile, full of energy- and takes a second to ponder the turns his life has taken to bring him here, in this moment. where steve harrington is singing a cheesy, upbeat love song at him, having replaced the name in it for his.
steve cups eddie's hands together and uses them as a makeshift microphone, belting out the lyrics to the chorus as eddie giggles along in the background. "-oh, eddie! what a pity, you don't understand," puts his best pouty face and places eddie's hand on his chest, over his heart. eddie's eyes widen. "you take me by the heart when you take me by the hand! oh, eddie, you're so pretty," really fucking emphasises the word pretty. because, damn. "why can't you understand? it's guys like you, eddie!" grabs him by the shoulders and rocks them both back and forth with each word. eddie's hand drops from his chest to circle around his waist, seemingly out of instinct, and fuck, he liked that.
eddie was staring at him now, sparkly eyed and hopeful. steve clasped his hands together at the base of eddie's neck, as he sung, a little less overzealous now, "oh, what you do, eddie, do eddie," as the gap between them got less and less. steve had to work to bite down the grin on his face.
"don't break my heart, eddie." he said, barely loud enough for them to hear over the music. eddie grinned, pressing their lips together as the chorus ended.
it was objectively bad, with the way they both smiled and giggled through the whole fucking thing, but god, who cares. to them, in that exact moment, it was the best damn kiss either of them had ever had.
until, that is, when eddie pulls back (very fucking regretfully) and realises something.
"we did not just have our first kiss to 'hey, mickey!' by toni basil." he whispers, in genuine horror. steve throws his head back with such bright laughter, still pressed against him, that it almost makes it worth it.
keyword almost, because then the menace leans back in, all coy, and replies, "i'm never, ever letting you forget it."
5K notes · View notes
kaciidubs · 1 month
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Cameras and Sweatpants
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❣ Summary: Photoshoots, the gift that keeps on giving, and you welcomed it with open arms - and mouth. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.5k ❣ Warnings: Smut, degradation/name calling [slut], slight public sex ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: 230526 Chris [pictured], Chan is referred to as Chris and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty/Dirty Girl, Slut, mention of Jisung, lightly edited, this was written almost a year ago while I was sleep deprived and horny for this specific version of Chris ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“We have 30 minutes,” Chris whispered against the shell of your ear, his hand resting against the small of your back. 
You smirked, pace quickening ever so slightly as you walked past staff members and stylists alike - a glint of mischief shining through your lust fogged eyes. “I’ll be done in 15.”
Attending photoshoots with the boys was a rare occurrence, usually only happening when your oh-so-loving boyfriend figured a ‘little vacation’ was in order - and this was one of those times.
Even if you weren't well versed with Dispatch as a whole, you were more than aware of the speculation of idols’ private lives and, more present, promotional photoshoots and interviews.
Especially promotional photoshoots that had your boyfriend in the most relaxed yet revealing outfit you’d laid your eyes on; from the white, sleeveless shirt showing off well sculpted biceps that never failed to draw attention, to the baby blue sweatpants tied securely around his hips with holes that gave peeks into what you had the pleasure of seeing daily.
All of this, paired with the borderline bedroom eyes he was giving the camera, culminated into you tugging him off the couch the minute the director gave the call for a break to set up for the next room.
The second the changing room’s door shut and the lock clicked into place, you wasted no time in sinking to your knees in front of him - hardwood floors be damned. Your mouth watered at the prominent bulge beginning to tent the blue fabric; running your hand along the outline and earning a stifled grunt in return. 
“Baby, I’d rather not stain these pants,” Chris gritted out, trying to keep his anticipation at bay as you continued palming him, “we still have the second half to shoot.” 
You opened your mouth for a rebuttal, a tease of some sort, but the looming reminder of how much time you had made it close just as fast. 
Heeding his request, your hands slid up to the waistband of his sweats before tugging them past the swell of his ass and down the expanse of his thighs, just enough to expose his boxer-briefs.
“If we were home, this would be so much easier.” Your lips pulled into a playful pout, fingertips dipping past the branded waistband before pulling them down to meet the same fate as his sweats. “I wouldn’t have to worry about this many layers.”
He scoffed, leaning his back against the cool wooden door, “If you were patient you wouldn’t have this problem, now would you?” Cocking his head to the side, he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, “But you’re just so needy for my dick, aren’t you, baby?”
A fresh heat washed over you from his words and you had to physically fight back the whine bubbling in the back of your throat - if he was already talking like this, then you knew you weren't the only needy one here.
Spitting into your hand, you wrapped it around his length and gave a few experimental pumps, relishing in the sharp hiss of air he took above you with each pass of your fist, before leaning forward to lick a line from the base of his dick to the tip.
His lips parted with a breathless, “Fuck…”, his head falling back against the door with a low thud as he watched you with lidded eyes.
You looked up at him, the smallest hints of a smirk on your lips before parting them to take the head into your mouth, lapping languidly at the bitter-sweet precum leaking from the slit. A soft moan hummed from your throat as you sunk further, eagerly welcoming the familiar weight of him on your tongue.
 It was always an effort to take him down your throat, long as he was thick, but you continued pressing on - eyelids fluttering shut as you focused on breathing and fighting your gag reflex.
“S-Shit, baby,” Chris gasped, his hand resting on the top of your head, “can’t- ah, can’t go two hours without having your mouth stuffed, yeah?”
Your left hand gripped his thigh, either as a muted response or moral support when you finally, finally, pressed your nose against the finely trimmed patch of pubes that decorated his pelvis. Swallowing around him, earning a delicious whimper that made your pussy flutter, you tapped his thigh twice with a soft hum.
He tensed, his brain short circuiting while his heart skipped a beat so hard he felt it in his throat, “Really? Y-You don’t- fuck, you really want me to…?”
Another two taps against his thigh, and you looked up at him as best as you could from your knelt position, feeling spit start to overflow past the corners of your lips.
“Fuck- You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”
His hand shifted to the back of your head, locking you in place as he drew his hips back, a shiver running down his spine until half of his cock remained in your mouth before thrusting forward, sending himself down your throat once again.
You squeezed your eyes shut, one hand holding onto his half while the other balled into a fist on your thigh, helping you focus on keeping your gags at bay with practiced breaths.
Chris kept a few more slow, manageable thrusts before turning up the pace; his cock leaving your mouth a little more each time before sliding its way back into your throat, ragged pants tumbling from his lips as he fucked your mouth.
It was dizzying, the way your muscles constricted around his girth while your plump lips were slicked with bubbling saliva - it wasn’t anywhere close to how your cunt felt, but it was still bringing him to his end just the same. It also didn’t help that soft moans were interspersed between your muted gags; the thought of you getting off on him using your mouth like a fleshlight making his grip tighten and his balls swell.
“T-Taking me so well,” he gritted, breaking out into a small sweat, “so needy for me you can’t even suck me off by yourself - need me to help you, huh? Need me to- fuck- to use this throat of yours like the slut you are.”
Your nails dug into his calf and he chuckled, a short, husky sound that had your pussy clenching around nothing, your panties sticking like a self-imposed punishment.
“My little slut, yeah? All mine?” Sucking in a sharp breath, his hips stuttered, “A-All mine to use - daddy’s pretty, dirty girl.”
Blinking away the tears blurring your vision, you angled your head up just enough to gaze at him through your eyelashes, and the sight you were met with had you rocking your hips in the open air - desperation taking over your rational thoughts in hopes of an odd rotation to get something to grind against your aching cunt.
Pupils blown, the ends of his hair sticking to his forehead,the glow of sweat shining down the curve of his neck, pretty pink lips parted and shimmering from the gloss the makeup artists coated them in, and brows furrowed with a focus you’d seen time and time again - he looked delectable.
“S-Shit- I’m close, baby,” panting, Chris looked down at you with worry flashing in his eyes, “Wh- Mm- Where do you want it?”
Answering his question as best you could, you squeezed his calf once before pressing your tongue to the underside of his dick, running it against a vein that never failed to make his head spin.
The grip on your head tightened as he nodded frantically, “Y-Yeah, yeah, okay - t-take it all, princess, swallow every drop j-just f’me, yeah?” A shiver ran down his spine as his rhythm began to falter, breathless whimpers falling from his lips, “‘M coming- oh fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna come-”
His dick twitched, throbbing against your tongue, and with a handful of thrusts the tip pressed against the soft flesh of the back of your throat before a rush of cum filled your mouth.
Your throat tightened with each swallow you took, gag reflex working double time with the lack of air reaching your lungs until the last of his release settled onto your tongue.
As his hold on you relaxed, you slowly pulled yourself off of his length with a lewd slurp, taking whatever final remnants remained before swallowing - almost choking on the deep breath that immediately followed suit as your lungs gratefully welcomed the unhindered rush of air.
“I’m-” Chris huffed out a breath, fully leaning against the door to save him from falling to his knees, “I’m sorry, baby, are you okay? Did I go too hard?”
“Honestly?” Clearing the rasp from your voice, you laughed lightly, “If I passed out, it would’ve been worth it.”
“Oh my god, you absolute menace!”
Eyes narrowing with mirth, you smirked, “Menace? I thought I was daddy’s little slut?”
The blush tinting his ears and neck deepened, but before he could respond a series of knocks rapped against the door, followed by Jisung’s sheepish voice.
“Uh, if you guys are done in there, can I grab my phone?”
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697 notes · View notes
chansshands · 20 days
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Bed bugs
Pairing: Idol! Chan x fem! reader
Genre: smut, fluff, maybe crack idk
Warnings: slight choking (just a hand on the neck, nothing more) (f! receiving), dry humping, oral sex (m! receiving), make-out session, cuddles, mention of Chan's room.
Author notes: when I first started writing "Physiotherapy and Coconut Oil" back at the beginning of October, I was convinced to write it as fluff, mainly because I can't write smut; after a couple of weeks, I left it in my drafts, and leave it there till the first two weeks of December, I was under heavy medication bc I had a painful surgery on my foot, and the only thing that helped to go through insomnia caused by the pain was writing that story, I wrote and wrote day and night, and it helped so so much, that's why I was shocked when @ardef38 asked for a pt 2, so here you go love, I hope you like it.
(Kinda proof read, it’s 1:40 am as I’m ’reading’ this so, be patient I’ll correct any mistakes later)
Fun fact: I do really ride motorcycles since I was 17 (and yes I may be reckless).
Word count: +4k (I got carried away I’m sorry)
Thank you so much, I really, really appreciate all the feedback, I love you all.🩷
Sincerely Glo
As always, requests are open!
-✉️
I'm so insecure about my English. As I said, it's not my first language, and I'm always scared to make mistakes or stuff like that. So, if you find mistakes, please let me know. I'll be thankful, and my English will improve!
-✉️
You can read part one here
"Stop moving. I'm trying to sleep."
he mumbles on your back
"I can't, I'm sorry."
You mumble
"Why? What is happening, baby?"
he asks, hugging you tighter
"Uhm, I'm sorry my insomnia is bothering me, I-i don't know why."
"What can I do for you? A cup of tea? cuddles?"
he asks
"I don't know either, honestly, usually I stay in bed and stare at the ceiling."
"It's a common thing?"
he whispers, almost like he doesn't want to be heard by someone
"What? That I can't sleep? Oh yeah, definitely.”
you say, turning yourself towards him
"Mh"
"You should be tired, you know that? after a full day of work and after what we did."
he says
"I know, Channie, but my brain can't shut down."
"I have an idea."
he says, hugging you tighter, your head on his chest with his hand between your hair
"What?"
you ask, looking at him
"Shhhh, just close your eyes and relax, okay?"
"Mh, okay. I doubt that whatever you're about to do, you'll make me fall asleep."
"Shshhh"
close your eyes
go to sleep
know my love is all around
dream in peace
when you wake
you will know I'm still with you
He repeats the verse over and over until you don't hear him anymore.
You know that you fall asleep because of his voice and the lullaby that he was singing, and the way he was stroking your hair gently, but mostly because he's warm; one time, someone said that he's like the feeling of walking in a warm room after spending the whole day out in the cold. It's true he really is like that domestic feeling.
"Good morning, ray of sunshine. How did you sleep?"
he asks you when you walk into your kitchen
"Oh, good morning. I thought you were already gone and good. I don't know which magic you've put in your cuddles and voice, but I haven’t slept like this in months."
you say
"Gone? No, I had to make you breakfast since I've slept over and used your bathroom to shower. I also used your body wash. Now I know why you smell so good."
he says while working on something at the stove
"That's why the bottle is half empty."
you giggle, hugging him from behind
"I'm sorry. I'll rebuy it for you."
he says
"Ya, it's okay, you don't have to. you smell like me now,"
"Yep, and trust me, I love it."
he says
"Yeah?"
"Mhmm"
"Aaah, you're warm, Channie it's freezing today even if it's mid-summer."
you say, hugging him from behind
"It has rained all night, we didn't notice because we were...umh...busy."
he says, turning towards you
"Busy...yeah...Chan, oh my god, it was...did I do these?"
you ask, touching his neck and chest
"No, no, it was a bed bug."
"Ehi -you slap his chest- I-god, I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me too. we got carried away, didn't we?"
he says, touching your neck and making you shiver
"Definitely, but I'm going to be honest I don't mind it and I don’t regret it.”
you say, smiling and kissing him on his naked chest
"Chan...-you say, sniffing around- something is burning."
"NO THE PANCAKES!"
he quickly turns towards the stove, swearing and mumbling against the burnt cakes
"Fuck, i-i wanted to make you breakfast."
he pouts, looking at the burnt pancakes
"It's okay, Channie -you giggle- thing like this happens when you're distracted."
"So you're saying that is your fault?"
he asks, looking at you, one of his dimples popping out
"Yeah, definitely."
you laugh
"Okay, put something on. I'll buy you breakfast."
"No."
you say
"Yes."
he says
"No."
"Yes."
"I said no."
"And I said yes."
"Channie, you don't have to"
"But I want to"
he says
"But-ugh, what if people see us around."
you say
"You're part of the staff, and we can go to the JYP cafeteria, the one inside the building."
"Mh, okay, but with one condition."
"Which one?"
he asks
a smirk appears on your face
"I don't like that smile."
he says
"I'll take you to the building with my motorcycle."
"You-you can ride?"
he asks
"yeah, I thought you liked it when I did it on your-"
"Shsh, don't-shut up, okay, okay."
he says, covering your mouth with one of his hands
"You're not reckless, aren't you?"
he asks with a worried tone
"Me? Reckless? absolutely not."
you smile
"That smile...I don't trust you."
"Not my business, Channie."
10 minutes later, you are in the elevator, and funny to say, but both of you choose a black hoodie (mostly because you have to cover your hickeys and not to catch a cold since the air is fresher)
"You copied my outfit."
you say, looking at him
"Do it look like I'm wearing Doc Martens and leggings?"
he asks, looking at you
"No, even if you would look good in leggings, but your outfit is total black, just like mine."
"I always dress like this."
“I aLwAyS dReSs LiKe ThIs”
You mock him
“It’s true, my whole wardrobe is black.”
"Yeah, but you still copied my outfit."
you smile, walking outside the elevator, Chan being by your side
"Jagiya.."
he says
"Mh?"
you say, not paying attention to the feeling that you felt in your stomach after that nickname
"I'm scared."
he says, looking at his feet
"About..?"
you say opening your garage door
"I've never been on a motorcycle."
he says shyly
"It's okay, Channie. There is a first time for everything. I'm going to explain everything, okay?"
"You-fuck, you can drive this thing?"
he asks
"Yeah, she's my baby."
"Baby? it's huge, how can you manage to drive this?"
you shrug your shoulders, looking at him
"I just do it, just trust me okay?"
"I do trust you."
he says
"Yeah?"
you ask, looking at him, and he simply nods
"Okay, big boy, put this on."
you say, giving him one of your motorcycle jackets
"I hope it fits; one of my friends gifted it to me, but she took three sizes bigger than mine, and I couldn't return it."
"It's a little bit tight on my shoulders."
he says, closing the zip
"It fits perfectly; you have protections, so it has to be tight."
you say, zipping your protective jacket
"It's weird. I'm not used to tight things."
he says, putting his backpack on his shoulders again
"Now, move, I have to take the motorcycle out of the garage. Can you grab the two helmets there? and when you're out, close the door, please."
you say, pointing at a wood cabinet. You press the clutch and move backward with the motorcycle; when the bike is in the correct position, you press down the stand.
"Okay, give me these."
you say, taking the helmets from his hands
"I'm going to put the helmets on you, okay, and I'll explain everything."
you say, putting the helmet on him. You do the same with yours
"Does it feel loose?"
you ask
"No, it's perfect."
you can see him smiling even if half of his face is covered
"And now -you press the inter-phone button- can you hear me?"
"Oh yeah, it's like you're inside my head."
he giggles
you turn on your bike, leaving her roar
"Damn, it's loud."
he giggles
"Okay, so -you say, straddling the motorcycle pushing the stand up with your foot- use that thing to get on and sit here."
you say, patting on the small sitting place for him
"Are you sure you can-?"
he asks
"Yes, trust me, Chan, I've been riding since I was 17."
you smile at him
he sits behind you, getting more comfortable once the bike is stable
"See? You won't fall; both of my feet are on the ground."
"Keep your feet there when we're on the road, don't put them on the ground at a red light or a stop sign. You have to put your arms around me tight or on the tank, especially when I brake; you'll feel it, so don't worry. When we take a turn, you have to follow me with your body. You're basically my shadow, or even better, my backpack, so follow every movement I make, okay?"
you say
"Yep"
"Now, arms around me."
you say, waiting for his arms
"Hold on tight."
you say before pressing the clutch with your left and putting the first gear with your left foot
"Here we goooo."
you say
"Oh my god, we're moving, ahah wow."
"Hold on tight, Channie."
you say, patting on his hands
"That's-wow, oh my god."
"You want me to go faster?"
you say once you're on the road
"Fuck yes"
he says
and you do as he said. You accelerate and shift gear; the sun has been out for hours, so the road is dry now.
"How does it feel?"
you ask him
"It's like, I don't know how to explain it."
"Freedom?"
you suggest
"Yeah, yes, that's the right word."
he says
"That's why you do it? I mean, that's why you drive?"
you hear his voice through the inter-phone, and you simply nod.
"Can you go faster? I wanna feel free."
he says
"Of course."
you giggle, and you shift once again the gear, the two of you speeding in the streets of Seoul, zig-zagging between the buses, cars, and taxis
"Oh my gooood, too fast, too fast"
he almost screams
"Ahahah, just hold onto me, and you'll be fine, Channie. Trust me."
the grip of his arms around your waist getting tighter
"You're crazy."
he says
"I know"
"And reckless, and oh my god, I want to do this every day."
he says
"I know -you laugh- should I pick you up tomorrow?"
"Oh, I—I'm not that brave. God, you have a big pair of balls to drive a thing like this. I could never."
"Oh, you could, and you would look so hot in one of these, with a compression shirt on-ush what a vision."
you say
"Are you fantasizing about me?"
he asks
"I mean, yeah, you as a biker? damn, Christopher, I would be on my knees."
you say, teasing him
"You were on your knees for me yesterday, and definitely, I'm not a biker."
he says, teasing you back
"I- you- uh- I hate you."
you say
"Yeah, yeah, it was clear with all the 'oh, ah' that you were whimpering against my ear last night."
he says, placing one of his hands on your thighs
"Oh-you-shut up"
you say, glad that he can't see the color of your cheeks
"Here we are person that I absolutely hate, and it's banned from my house."
you say braking and turning off the motorcycle once you're in the proper park
"Oh c'mon, I was joking -he says, taking off his helmet- I'll never mention cute whimpers again."
he pouts
"Shhh, are you crazy talking about this here?"
"Right, 'm sorry, where do I put this?"
he asks, lifting his helmet
"Oh, just bring it with you."
you say
"So...umh, breakfast?"
he asks, breaking the silence between the two of you
"Yeah, breakfast."
you sigh, looking at him, his hair messed up because of the helmet
"Ladies first"
he says, opening the front door of the building for you
"Oh, what a gentleman."
you say, walking toward the elevator, bowing to the person who just stepped out of the elevator
"Yeah, gentleman."
he mumbles, pressing the number three, and once the elevator doors closed, you talk
"What you're mumbling about?"
you look at him
"Nothing"
"Chan, c'mon, you can't do this after what we did."
"I'm -he sighs- I let you go first to look at your ass in those stupid leggings, so I'm not a gentleman."
he crosses his arms
"Oh, well, I'll make sure to put them more often."
you say, shrugging your shoulders
"You're not mad?"
he asks
"that you look at my ass when you can? No. You literally saw me naked, so that's nothing of this -you point at your whole body- that you haven't seen."
"Mh, good to know."
he smirks, and once the lift doors open, he goes
"Ladies first, of course."
he winks at you and you can do nothing but laugh at him.
after a couple of minutes of indecision, his indecision actually, he brings to the table two tall cups of cappuccino and a piece of cake for him
"You sure that you don't want a bite?"
he asks, offering you a piece of pie
"Hundred percent Chan"
you smile at him
"Do you have to work today?"
he asks
"Uhm... no, I don't think so, actually. I'm here just for breakfast—you giggle—why?"
"I have to meet with Han and Binnie for some fixes on a new song and do the usual Sunday live, so...would you mind coming with me?"
"I- you- you want me in your studio?"
"Yes"
"The one where no one is allowed?"
"Mhmm"
he nods, sipping on his cappuccino
"The one where the darker aura Christopher works?"
"Yes, that one."
"Mh, okay, if you... don't mind having me there."
you shrug your shoulders
"I don't mind it. You have a relaxing effect on me."
he says
"Interesting"
you say, sipping on your coffee
"The boys are already there. Should we go?"
"I follow you, mister dark aura."
"Oh, shut up."
he says, looking at you
"Hello everyone"
he says, entering in the studio
"Hi Hyung"
the bandmates say at the same time
"Oh, y/n? Hi, what are you doing here?"
"I-uh, I saw him in the middle of the street, he was like an abandoned puppy."
"Hey"
he says, sitting down in his working chair
"So I offered him a ride on my motorbike, and to pay me back, he offered me breakfast."
you laugh nervously
"You ride a motorcycle?"
changbin asks
"Yes? why does everybody find this weird."
you say
"I don't know, you don't look like someone who rides a motorcycle."
Binnie says
"But I am."
you laugh, sitting on the couch in the studio
The three men start working on the new song. You're not paying too much attention because
1. you're too distracted by the way Chan gets so severe when he's at work, so bossy but at the same time gentle with his members
2. you're working too, on your phone, but you're working, planning all the appointments with the members and the artists of JYP
"Oh, looks like someone had fun last night."
you hear Han's voice, and you're head snaps toward his direction so fast that you hear a crack in your neck
"Yeah, you weren't home last night. Where were you last night, Chan?"
Changbin says
then you notice that Chan took off his hoodie, revealing all the hickeys and bite marks on his neck
"What?"
he asks, looking at them
"Your neck Chan, what the fuck? What did you do?"
Han asks
"Uh, bed bugs."
he says, typing and clicking on his computer, not paying too much attention to them
"Yeah, a big one."
Han says
"One with human teeth"
Changbin laughs
"Oh shut up, the two of you."
Chan says, his cheeks turning pink
"Who is she?"
asks the two gossipy men
"No one, it was a bed bug."
he says once again
"Do you know anything about this?"
Changbin asks, and both of them turn toward you
"Uh, bed bugs are big these days."
you shrug your shoulders
"Mh, yeah."
they look at each other with a smirk
after a couple of minutes, they stopped asking about his marks and focused again on their work, recording some chorus, laughing when someone went out of tune, and listening over and over again at the song till it was perfect
"Aaaaand we're done."
Chan says, stretching up his arms in the air and clapping at the work of 3racha
"Aaaagh, I'm hungry."
Changbin says
"Me too."
Han says
"Hyung, y/n wanna join us for lunch?"
"Oh no, I must go now, maybe next time."
you smile at them
"I have to do the live so."
chan says
"Oh, okay."
they say
"Bye Hyung, Y/N see you on Tuesday."
Han says
"Bye guys, see you."
you smile
"Hyung, see you at the dorm and make sure to eat, or you get nervous, little bed bug…See you on Tuesday."
Binnie says, smiling at you and closing the door behind his back
"HOW THE FUCK DID HE?"
you say, covering your face with your hands
"He's not stupid."
Chan says
"But don't worry, they won't spill anything to anyone, that's for sure."
he gets up from his chair, locks the door of the studio, and walks toward you
"Ugh, are you sure?"
you ask, your voice muffled by your hands
"Yes, I trust them with my whole life. They're nosy, I know, but we have a rule: what happens or what we say in the studio stays in the studio."
He says, sitting next to you.
"Are you sure? I- I loved hat we did, and I love our bond, but I don't want to lose my job, Chan, I've worked so hard to be here, and I don't want to ruin everything because I had sex with you."
you say, looking at him
"Ouch"
he says
"No, no, I don't want you to think that I'm using you because I'm not okay? I loved our friendship way before what happened last night."
"I get what you're saying, y/n, don't worry, it's just that you're...I don't know…after what we did, I don't know what are we? friends? Best friends? friends with benefits?"
he looks at you
"Friends with..."
"Benefits, you know, two friends that have sex occasionally but remain friends."
"Yeah, Chan, I know what friends with benefits are."
"So?"
"What?"
you ask
"Friends with benefits? it will be our dirty little secret."
he says
"Mh, friends with benefits"
you nod
"Let's start this thing from now, yeah?"
he says, pulling your face towards him
"Yes, fuck yes."
you say, breaking the distance between the two of you, kissing his plumped lips again
"The door is locked, and we have about thirty minutes."
he says between the kisses
"Ugh, not enough time."
you say, pulling back from him
"We can go back to my place after the live, yeah?"
he nods, kissing your lips again, more roughly this time. You shift your position, straddling him, your legs on the side of his thighs
"It's not-that simple to- touch you with these stupid- mhpf yoga pants."
he says, kissing your lips
"You said that you loved them."
you say
"Yeah, and now I hate them; I can't touch you properly, which frustrates me."
He says, pulling you closer to him. You can feel his bulge against your clit
"It's okay, we don't need to take our pants off."
you say, smiling at him
"What- why? c'mon, I wanna see that pretty pussy of yours."
he says, frustrated, leaving his head against the headrest of the couch
"Mh, not now."
you say, starting to grind on his hard bulge
"Oh shit, what- do it again, please,"
he says, placing his hands on your hips, guiding you back and forth against him. You kiss gently his neck, trying not to bite him or suck his soft skin because his neck is already a mess.
"You- god"
he tries to say, one of his hands traveling around your body, grabbing one of your breasts under the hoodie
"Uh? you're not wearing a bra?"
he says
"Nope, free the nipples, Christopher."
You laugh while looking at him, poor guy, he looks desperate
"Fuck, full access all this time? Why didn’t you tell me? God, y/n, you're going to drive me crazy."
he says, kissing your lips. You laugh in his lips and keep grinding on his hard cock
"Please take your hoodie off, I want- at least I want to see your boobs."
"Uhm, so needy, aren't you?"
you ask, and he simply nods
you take off your hoodie, shivering, not because you're cold, no it's way too hot in the room, but because of the way that he looks at you; it looks like he wants you to eat you alive, literally. He licks his lips, looking at your boobs at then looking at your face, his eyes jumping between your two twins and your eyes
"What?"
you ask, looking at him, moving a clump of hair from his face
"I want to suck them."
he simply says
"Then do it. Don't be shy, Christopher."
"Oh, don't call me like that."
he says, looking at you, his eyes darkened
"I know that you like it, just admitted."
you whisper to his ear
"Mphf, if you don't stop grinding on me, I'll cum in my pants."
he says
"And? there's no shame in cumming in your pants, I love to see you so desp-shit"
you say, trying to find any other word to say, but your brain is short-circuiting, his tongue is moving around one of your breasts, sucking on the nipple, while with one hand, he pays attention to the other one
"I wanna live here."
he says, sucking and biting your nipple
"Mhpf, in the studio?"
you tease him even if you know what he meant
"Mh -he breaks off the contact between his mouth and your breast- between your boobs, I want to live here, they're-fuck, they're like a warm marshmallows."
you laugh
"I'm dead serious, y/n"
he looks at you so seriously that you have to cover your mouth not to laugh. You kiss his lips, making him smile
"You're going to be late, so let me do something for you, yeah?"
you say, shifting position and getting on your knees in front of him
"Oh fuck"
he says, pulling his pants down, revealing his hard dick
"You're going to drive me crazy, you know that?"
he says, caressing your face
"That's the point, Christopher."
you say, kissing one of his naked thighs
"Please, jagiya, please."
he says in a desperate tone. That nickname again, heavy like a rock on your chest, just friends with benefits, correct?
So you do what a good friend would do, you take his boner with your hands, stroking him up and down a couple of times, licking the tip, focusing on that particular sensitive part, making him whimper.
You take all of him in your mouth, breathing through your nose; you look up at him, his head on the headrest, his eyes closed, enjoying every moment, one of his hands in your hair, scratching your scalp gently.
You keep working with your mouth and tongue, adding once again your dominant hand, just because you can't take all of him in your mouth.
"Jagi...fuck."
"Uh, language, please."
you say, taking him out of your mouth without stopping working with your hand.
"How am I supposed not to say bad words when you're on your knees sucking me off?"
he asks, looking down at you
"You're dramatic."
you say, retaking him in your mouth, you know that he's about to cum because he's throbbing in your mouth
"Baby, i'm-i'm about to."
he can't even finish the sentence that a load of fluid goes into your mouth, you swallow it all the way.
You clean the corner of your mouth with your fingers and stay on your knees, looking up at him with a stupid smile on your face.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
He says, pulling his pants up
“I’m not looking at you in any particular way.”
“Yes, you are, come here.”
He says, patting the place next to him
“Thank you”
He says when you sit next to him
“You don’t have to thank me, Channie.”
“I have to, I told you that you have a relaxing effect on me. And I’m talking generally, not when we...do other stuff, you know, even when we do them, but..."
“I get what you’re saying, Channie.”
You giggle
“Aagh, come here.”
He says, placing a hand on your neck and pulling towards him
“No, wait, I’ve just…”
“I don’t care, y/n, just kiss me, please.”
You sigh, and you kiss his lips, it’s a quick kiss, almost as if you did it every day
“You’re going to be late.”
You say, touching his forehead with yours
“I know, but I have to do it, it’s a safe space for me, and stays.”
“I know”
You say, pecking his lips once again
“I’m in my studio, I wait for you there, okay?”
You say, putting your hoodie on
“Mh, okay, thank you y/n, really.”
He says, kissing your cheek
“That’s what a good friend would do.”
You smile at him
“Yeah, good friend.”
He echos you
“Bye, bed bug.”
He says when you unlock the door
“Bye, Channie -you giggle at the nickname- don’t forget to put your hoodie on.”
“I won’t, thank you.”
He says, smiling, dimples on full display
Good friends, right?
A friend that has marked you all over your body
A friend you would go to live with just to have breakfast ready every morning
A friend that makes you feel butterflies,
A friend that fucks you till your brain short-circuit
A friend who makes you fall asleep while singing and cuddling
Maybe he’s more than “A friend”
A/N: me after writing this 🏃🏻‍♀️💨
Tag list: @paboswriting (because of the mention of biker Chan, we have an obsession about him)
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hotchfiles · 1 month
Text
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ the mood i'm in ❞ ─ an adhd chronicles blurb
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pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!adhd!reader. summary: sometimes rearranging a whole entire closet is a biological need. content warnings: fluff, adhd antics (i'm diagnosed don't try to come for me) word count: 600+. a/n: this was requested by @ficmeoutofthisworld and i felt the need to make a blurb!verse of it, so expect more fluff for these three 🩵 & the idea of jack calling you honey came from honey is for love by @angellsell
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“daddy, honey has that weird look again.” aaron can’t help but smile at his little boy, putting the files he was working on down on his desk, telling him to come closer with his hands. jack had gotten into the habit of calling you honey very early on in your relationship, that being one of the pet names aaron used the most when talking to you. it was too endearing to correct him, even after you moved in. you both just let the boy be, knowing that he would call you by name once he got older.
you didn’t mind him not calling you mom or any of its variants, even if the relationship you shared now was much alike mother and child, jack didn’t remember a lot of haley by himself, he was too little, but aaron always did his best to keep her memory alive in him, so if for his young mind it was easier to call you a pet name, you would take it every single time with a smile. and so would aaron. 
“what look, buddy?” he asks even though he’s sure he knows the answer, having been through that a few times over the last two years. 
“she’s staring at my stuff and sitting on the floor.” bingo. every once in a while you would get obsessed with something, it made sense after you were diagnosed with adhd and he learnt how to accommodate you properly, but for a while it was just a big clash of his organized and controlling nature and your chaotic mind. 
“let’s see what she needs, okay?” jack nods, leading the way with his dad closely behind. they find you exactly as his boy explained to him, sitting with your legs crossed on the floor, staring at his wardrobe so attentively it might scare the unknown eye. 
“darling? what’s going on?” he asks without entering the room, not wanting to invade your space before you called him in, instead he decided to lean on the door frame, observing you with his kind eyes.
“i want to rearrange all of jack’s clothes but we need more hangers for that and i don’t want to go to the store just to buy hangers, but i also can’t get up to go to the kitchen and check what else we need.” you answered quickly, finishing your ramble with a huff, dropping your shoulders and looking at your fiancé with a pout that made him get closer to you, offering his hands so you could have some support while getting up, you lazily do it, being embraced by him as soon as your feet touch the ground. 
“go watch something with jack, okay?” his tone is always soft, as if your conversations, even the silliest and mundane ones, were secrets for you two to keep. he knew you too well, so he prevented the whine he knew would come–you wanted to get this done, you needed to rearrange jack’s clothes or the itch in your brain wouldn’t leave–and he did so by holding both of your cheeks with his hands, making you look at him. “i’ll make the shopping list and then you both can go to target while i get some reports done.” you nod happily, his hands moving with your head. 
telling you to watch something with jack could seem like a mindless choice of words, but it wasn’t, aaron knew you were feeling stuck and how bad that made you feel, you needed a dopamine kick before you could do something, and no better way for that than colorful silly shows with your favorite boy.
by the time he’s done with the shopping list, you had already started another important project: napping on the couch with jack. so he leaves it attached with a magnet on the fridge, gives you both soft forehead kisses and goes back to work, not minding the fact he did it quickly for no reason, happy you were resting and that it was done for when you decided to shop.
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apocalypse-shuffle · 11 months
Text
HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)
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“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)
| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.
| SFW, piercing description, needles
| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)
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You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.
“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”
You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.
“I know that,” you grumble.
Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.
You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”
Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.
“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”
In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.
His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.
“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”
“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.
“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”
“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”
“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”
“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”
“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”
Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.
Hobie chuckles.
“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”
“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”
“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.
He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.
You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.
Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.
“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”
You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”
“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?
A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.
“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”
“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”
Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.
“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.
Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.
“Three,” he states.
Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.
This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?
“Ow! You motherfucker!”
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.
Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.
Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
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queenimmadolla · 1 year
Note
I need a part in the penny verse where the whole Eddie telling baby bump penny that her mom is going to be a MILF comes into play.
Like one we day the reader is picking up penny from school and maybe another kids dad flirts with her or like a new neighbor of theirs does and maybe Eddie’s reaction to that
Not even gonna front with you, I've been sitting on this for a min because I wrote it and then freaking forgot about it. I did take some creative liberties, but I think you'll like what I got for ya. Ps, ‘baby bump penny’ had my heart throwing up, I always forget that we get her in different phases of her existence and she was once in reader’s belly 🥹💘
to everyone else, sorry, I can't link shit but this is a follow up to a ton of other pennyverse entries so you can search that on my tumblr until the links work again. and i'm trying the keep reading cut again, let me know if it fucks up the post.
(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)
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Summary: Something's been bothering you these last couple of weeks and you won't tell Eddie what it is. Like that'll stop him, he's determined to figure it out.
warnings: a creepy (and freaking terrible) dad hits on reader, implied unwelcome advances, crude comments about reader and the female body (eddie sets this fucker straight), protective!eddie :)
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Eddie knew you. He knew every fiber of your being, every marker in your past, all the ways you liked to style your hair, how you decided on what makeup to put on that day—if you even wore any—,the different types of silence you’d sink into and what they meant, your body (god, he was intimately in tune with it), and every different smile you wore. Eddie knew you.
  He just didn’t know exactly what went on in that beautiful head of yours. Eddie was positive he had a sixth sense catered only to you, it’d let him know whenever there was something wrong, something bothering you. It prompted him to approach you, watch you even more than he already did. Putting himself metaphorically in your shoes usually helped him figure it out the rest of the way, but for this particular occurrence, he had nothing to go on.
  For the past couple of weeks, since Penny had started preschool, you’d moved your work schedule around to go in earlier so you’d be out in time to pick Penny up from school and snag the baby from Maude and Wayne, who watched him while you and Eddie were at work.
  Eddie noticed a change in you. It was minor at first, a little frazzled when he’d get home, but you hid it well. Now, you looked bothered. Always zoned out, with a frown on your face. You never left the house like that, always gave him and the kids kisses before you went on your merry way (well, as happy as you could be going to a desk job), so it had to be something that happened after you left home that bothered you.
  It wasn’t work, you’d rant to Eddie about it if you had a bad day but you liked to leave work problems at your desk when you left it, something about not being paid to worry or think about work after hours.
  It bugged the fuck out of him. He’d tried to approach the subject before, leaving you openings to tell him what was going on but you always shrugged it off and went on about your day as if you hadn’t been upset over something. You couldn’t hide it completely, though. Not from Eddie, he could still see those split seconds where your mind wandered off and the corners of your lips twitched down.
  Given how stubborn you were, Eddie decided he’d need to take a more hands on approach. Since he suspected something was happening after you left home in the mornings and before he got home from work, he’d have to be present for that timeframe. 
  He’d left work around lunchtime, Norm was understanding about it and didn't really care all that much since it was a relatively slow day for business.
  His son had been delighted when he picked him up from his Grandpa and (grandma) Maude’s, squirming and wiggling in her hold until Eddie got a hold of him. Baby Wayne had immediately placed his hands on Eddie’s jaw, urging his dad to bend his head so he could rest his forehead against his own, those big eyes of his fluttering shut the moment they connected and soft coos of dada mumbled in between them, unlike Penny had, Wayne caught onto the baby babble of mama and dada. Penny hadn’t because one of you was always helicoptering around her so Princess Penny hadn’t felt the need.
Eddie would never get over how much his baby seemed to love cuddling with his parents, everytime baby Wayne was affectionate, he turned into goo, melting in his chubby hands. They lingered in the trailer for a couple of minutes while Eddie and big Wayne discussed how things were going in the apartment, though it had been more than a year since they’d moved in. Naturally, Wayne had asked why he was stopping by so early to pick up the baby so your change in demeanor came up in conversation.
  “Mmm, I been noticin’ ‘er actin’ odd whenever she comes to pick up little man. Seems fine when she gets ‘ere. ‘S when she leaves, she seems a little…”
  “Hesitant?” Eddie supplied and Wayne nodded, mouth pressed in a firm line.
  It was then that Maude Maple spoke up, something the widow rarely did in the presence of anyone other than Wayne, and it was with great hesitance.
  “She—she mentioned something once, about the pick up at Penny’s preschool. She didn’t go into too much detail, I think she’s bothered by it.”
  “Looks like I’m on pick-up duty today.” 
  After leaving Wayne and Maude’s and asking the latter to give you a call at work to let you know he picked the baby up, Eddie spent the rest of the afternoon with baby Wayne. It involved a food fight—yes, Eddie flung some back at him, he had it coming, when Wayne had decided he was done being fed and done with food that wasn’t coming from your boob so he’d thrown the macaroni at his dad’s face—a shared shower to rid evidence of said food fight, jamming out (terribly) on toy musical instruments before Eddie gave him a bottle and some cuddles while he put Wayne down for his nap. . . And fell asleep with him. 
  You came home to a suspiciously quiet apartment, a little too clean, save for a couple of toys in the living room. You found your boys in Wayne’s nursery, both of them in the crib. 
  It was a heartwarming and comical sight, Eddie’s legs were dangling outside of the crib and the baby was curled up on his chest, though he stirred at the sound of the door opening, pushing himself up off his dad as he blinked lazily at you, mouth parting to reveal a couple of little white nubs in his gummy smile, teeth coming in.
  He cooed softly, once. When you didn’t immediately go pick him up, he let out a stream of coos, loud and demanding but still loving as he tried to entice you over. When you still stood there giggling, he got mad, seemingly joining you in your laughter with his fake and very forced sounding baby laugh which quickly morphed into fake cries as he pushed himself to his feet and stood on Eddie’s chest, clinging to the bars of his crib as though he were a locked up criminal.
  Eddie groaned, hands moving to grab your son and you finally made your way over, picking Wayne up—much to his utter delight—to relieve Eddie of his weight.
  “Ouch, dude. You can’t just stand on people like that, it’s rude.” He croaked out, as his son’s weight was lifted off of his chest.
  Eddie couldn’t even be annoyed, not when he could see Wayne scrambling eagerly in your arms, face rubbing into your neck, chest, cheek, anywhere the little guy could reach in his desperation and excitement to be as close as he could to his mama.
  After giving Wayne’s tummy some tickles, amplifying his excited wiggles with a few ‘so excited, so excited’s, you leaned over so the both of you could stare down at Eddie, amusement cloaking your pretty features.
  “I think it might be time to get you a big boy bed.”
  Eddie huffed out a laugh and then groaned once more as he tried to sit up as much as he could, which wasn’t a whole lot given the fact half of him was hanging out of the crib.
  “This is gonna be fun,” he mumbled, but eventually he was able to maneuver himself out of it without breaking it. He placed his hands on his lower back, arching until it gave away to a satisfying pop.
  “Oh, yeah. That’s good.”
  “Daddy’s so silly, huh?” You asked your son, bouncing him in your arms as you placed a kiss on his curly head before directing your next question to Eddie, “Is everything okay, baby?”
  “Just peachy, honey.” He was definitely gonna have to ask you to rub his back tonight. “Wanted to have some one-on-one time with him, even if he regularly abandons me the moment you’re in sight.” 
  Eddie reached a finger out to tickle Wayne’s stomach, smirking when he laughed and tried to hide further in your hold.
  You smiled at their interaction, though the joy quickly flitted from your expression, “Do you want to watch him? While I go pick up Penny?”
  Another obvious tell something was wrong: you’d chosen to come home, put an intentional stop between getting off of work and picking up Penny. It was almost as though you needed time to prepare yourself, which was a giant freaking red flag to Eddie considering you used to drive straight over to her school and wait for her. 
  “Why don’t you stay with him? I can go pick her up.”
  The light returned to your eyes.
  “Really? I mean—I don’t mind, I don’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.” 
  “He’s clearly over me,” The sentence was whispered at his son with fake aggression, which left Wayne a giggling mess once more, Eddie chuckled and gave his son’s chin an affectionate squeeze and wiggle, “I’ll pick up Princess Penelope, she loves the disapproving looks people give me.”
“Shut up!” You laughed, leaning up to give him a kiss before he snatched his keys off the counter.
“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”
“Say bye-bye to daddy!” You encouraged your baby, bouncing him a little against your hip. “Buh-buh.” He waved his chunky little hand, smiling wide for his dad. 
When Eddie collapsed into the door, hand clenched over his heart, you added, “Blow daddy a kiss!” Baby Wayne lifted his palm to his mouth briefly before extending his arm out in Eddie’s direction, “Mah!” Eddie pretended to catch it, smacked the invisible kiss over his mouth and blew one right back at his baby before he forced himself out the door.
   His kid was so cute, it was a federal offense. The drive to Penny’s preschool was short, thanks to living close by. Eddie hopped out of the van–he and a couple of the guys from the shop installed a backseat prior to Penny’s birth–and made his way to the waiting area. Eddie had never gone to a preschool as a kid so he couldn’t exactly judge the pick up and drop off routine, but Penny’s preschool rarely allowed anyone in. They simply walked  up to one of the entrance doors, rang a special doorbell attached to the building, and one of the teachers or aides or whatever would verify the adult picking them up if they didn’t recognize them and then bring the kid out.
  Which meant Eddie had to stand around with other adults. There’d been a couple of them already waiting when he’d arrived, so he’d made himself comfortable on a nearby column as he waited, mind once more preoccupied with reasons as to why you didn’t seem to enjoy picking Penny up anymore. You liked Penny’s teacher, could it be one of the aides giving you a hard time? No. That’s something you would have told him.
Eddie was so distracted, he hadn’t noticed another body settle against the wall across from him.
“You a new dad? Haven’t seen you around before.”
  “What?” Eddie blinked, roused from his thoughts. The guy across from him looked like he was in his mid thirties, dressed in a skeezy suit that looked like it belonged on a car lot rather than an office, and had really big, overly white teeth he couldn’t seem to put away.
“Not a new dad, a new dad to this school. Although, you do look a little young.” The stranger clarified with a shrug.
There was something about him that Eddie immediately disliked. He could tell this was not only their first interaction, it would also be their last.
“No, I usually do the drop off.” Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, eyes flashing back to the entrance door just in time to make eye contact with one of the aides, he saw the recognition in her eyes before she closed the door again and felt less annoyed with the situation knowing she’d be retrieving Penny. 
  He hadn’t really left room for conversation, but the guy still continued.
  “Gotcha, gotcha.” His head bobbed around, Eddie thought if he listened carefully enough, he could hear his brain rattling in there, “I used to be on drop off duty myself, but I hated getting the kids ready. I’ve got four of those little monsters, every little task takes goddamn near twenty minutes.” Oh, no. This guy didn’t say it with annoyance, no, he seemed contemptuous when he talked about his kids. Eddie didn’t like that.
“Wouldn’t be so bad if my wife could just get a grip on them,” Maybe she could if she had help, you’re clearly useless, “Name’s Neil, by the way.” Eddie just raised his chin in acknowledgement. One would think ol’ Neil would catch on to Eddie not wanting to talk to him, but one would be wrong. “Yup. ‘S why I’m not on drop off duty. Sure, the pick up has its faults, kids always smell like a stale fart from all that running around and they’re babbling non-stop the whole ride, but I think you’ll find you’ll like being on pick-up duty,” Then he leaned in, like he was telling a secret and whispered out, “Most of the hot moms do the pick-ups.”
  That sixth sense Eddie had for you? Yeah, it was on freaking fire, hot red and jumping around. He was positive he now knew the reason behind your discomfort with picking Penny up. 
  Some fucking creep wouldn’t leave you alone. Eddie’s jaw ticked, hands clenched into fists from the insides of his pockets. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t necessary with this guy.
“Man, you should see some of them. You gotta wonder why they only have one kid, I’d be all over that.” He gave a low whistle before he let out the most unflattering of cackles.
  “You missed most of the show, but there’s this one mom–god, the body on this one. . .and she’s always done up, think she works in an office or something, but she’s a sight for sore eyes. A real MILF. She’s only got one kid, too. Little girl she picks up, so you know she’s tight.”
Eddie would be committing a crime, because he knew he was talking about you. He was going to murder this asshole. He was gonna strangle Neil with his own intestines and get rid of the body in the town dump where he belonged.
  He must have not noticed the crazed glint in Eddie’s eyes because the idiot kept going, “I know what you’re thinking, I’m not actively planning on doing anything. Haven’t seen her in a couple of days, pretty sure she’s working late or something because she’s gotta be snatching this kid up late. Heard she’s married to some greasy mechanic and a pretty little thing like that coming to pick up her kid with these dads around? Shit, I wouldn’t be letting her out of the house. He’s signing her up for this. You gotta wonder if she likes the attention. She’s got this shy thing going on, though. Always so meek when I’m chatting her up. Not like my wife.” Neil’s face contorted in disdain, “Four fucking kids, man.” Okay, Eddie would be murdering him on behalf of you, and his wife. And the rest of the human population. He’d had enough, it was time to make sure this shit wouldn’t be continuing. “You got any pictures?” Eddie asked, feigning interest for the first time since he’d come up to him. Neil scoffed and dug around in his pocket, “Wife won’t let me go anywhere without them, you know how it is. Constant reminders and all that, like she doesn’t trust me to not forget.”
Eddie tried not to snatch the photo out of his slimy hands, frown deepening when he realized Neil’s story about having a wife and kids was not in fact made up. Four beaming little faces stared back up at Eddie, with a pretty fifth smile in the picture. She was severely out of her husband’s league, seemingly juggling all the responsibilities on her own, all of them underappreciated and unfortunately stuck with him.
“Beautiful family,” He commented, eyes flashing to the door just as it opened to reveal Penny and the aide. He returned the photo and pulled out his wallet from his pocket by its chain. Eddie flashed the photo inside to Neil, who immediately looked like he was going to shit himself. The photo was of you sitting on the couch, Wayne sitting between your legs and Penny standing on the cushion next to you, clutching your shoulder as you all smiled for him.
  Eddie slipped the wallet back into his pocket, and just as Penny began to run over, he leaned in to whisper like Neil had earlier, “Here’s what’s gonna happen: you're not ever gonna talk to my wife again or I’ll fuck you up. If you so much as look in her direction, I’ll kill you. If you think about her, I’ll beat you 'til the bones of my knuckles break through the skin. I’ll make sure you experience pain like you’ve never felt before. Bones can heal, but I promise you they don’t grow back, you pathetic fucking worm. You don’t deserve your wife, who gave you four fucking beautiful children, and you don’t deserve your kids, either. If I ever see her in public, I’m gonna tell her that so you’d better start appreciating her now. I’ve got a friend who wants a ton of kids and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me sending him their way. Got it?” Neil, good ol’ clammy, pale faced Neil swallowed hard and silently nodded as Penny finally reached him, arms already outstretched. Eddie swooped her up before she ran into him, relishing in the way her arms wrapped tightly around him in a hug. And this fucker was annoyed to have four little people who gave him these.
“Hi, sweet pea! Daddy’s just gonna finish up this conversation with Neil here and we’ll head home to mama, okay?”
Penny nodded eagerly, turning her head to stare inquisitively at the man she knew was her friend Izzy’s dad.
  Eddie took Penny’s backpack off of her with her help and slid it over his free arm, “I’m glad we understand each other, Neil. And if we don’t, my buddy Steve’s on speed dial.”
  He smirked as he walked away, leaving Neil both dumbstruck and terror stricken. Eddie didn’t even stop when he recalled a small inaccuracy Neil had mentioned, calling over his shoulder, “And we have two kids!”
What a jerk.
“Tell me about your day?” Eddie asked as he slid open the backseat door and leaned forward so Penny could climb into her booster seat. “Oh, boy, daddy! It was long! First, teacher said we were gonna draw with crayons but she change-ed her mind and we got to paint with our fingers instead!” She displayed her clean, paint free fingers for him as Eddie buckled her in, “Oh, yeah? Did you paint me a picture?” “Yeah, ‘s in my pack pack. But we only gotted to paint for a little while ‘cause Stanley tried to eat it.” “Not again, Stanley.” “I know!” Penny filled him in the rest of the drive home, while he got her out of her seat, the entire walk into the apartment building, only stopping when he opened the door for her and she caught sight of you. “MOMMY!” She let go of Eddie’s hand to run into your waiting arms. “Hi, baby! Did you have a good day at school?” You asked after you’d gotten in a good cuddle squeeze. “Uh huh! I painted with my fingers!” Penny ran back to Eddie and dug around in the backpack now dangling at his side until she retrieved a very poorly folded piece of thick paper. “I gotta show Waynie, first!” She bypassed you and ran straight for her baby brother, who was clutching the seat cushion of the couch and bobbing up and down. He’d be walking any day now. Eddie set Penny’s yellow backpack down on the counter as he closed the distance between you, arms wrapping around your middle to pull you flush up against him. “I don’t know how you do it, they make you wait forever.” He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as you laughed. “It’s not that bad!”
“Yeah, well, regardless, you should be having a much easier time picking her up.”
It was easy for you to read between the lines and pick up his real meaning. Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment before they softened, and you leaned further into him, hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders. “Thank you.” You’d been afraid to mention the invasive and unwelcome attention you’d gained from one of the dads. Ashamed. He’d been vulgar, blatant and creepy. Even on the days he wouldn't approach you, you could still feel his eyes on you, on your body. It made you feel gross and cheap, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d politely tried to get away from him when you’d find yourself in that situation, but where you went, he followed. Soon, you’d begun waiting in your parked car until Neil left, and when that wasn’t good enough, you’d either go home and wait until just before they closed–which you hated because you didn’t like to keep Penny waiting there when she could be at home–or wait in the parking lot at work until you’d make it when all the other kids were mostly gone. It was draining, and made you dread the end of the work day. 
“You never have to thank me,” Eddie leaned down just as you leaned up to kiss him, mouths mingling a little more on the wet side since you knew neither of your kids’ attention was on you. When you finally broke away, Eddie licked his lips and sighed. “Seriously, though. I don’t know how you do it. Men are gross and creepy, I wanted to deck him before he even really said anything. And what he did say–ugh. Let me know if you see his head turn in your direction, honey, ‘cause I made a promise I’m eager to not break.” You hummed appreciatively as you leaned up for more kisses, “My hero.”
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loveindefinitely · 4 months
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O b s e s s e d with need to listen to me. I can't get it out of my head.
I mostly can't stop thinking of soap who is so disgruntled and moody after the whole ordeal. Just absolutely pent up, so he starts acting out, snapping, talking back, that sort of thing. As promised price extends his punishment and it only breaks soap down more and more until finally he's sobbing and begging price to please do Something.
I have no idea where to go from here I just love the mental image of soap acting out when he doesn't get what he wants, maybe price extends ghost and gaz's punishments as well. Says something like "you can thank him for this" and now they're All huffy and upset.
Reader's the only one who is spared so they take out their frustration on her.
Ok i'm done thank you so much have a good day
-🐭
you are a GENIUS omg. ily. this is sososo canon in this mini poly141 verse.
warning. nsfw drabble (cont. ntltm)
because you're so right. soap would be a total bitch afterwards. needy and pent up and kinda jealous that you two are the only ones that got to get off, even though he put so much effort into eating you out. homeboy is stressed.
cue the next morning, where he's grumpy, whiney and just overall being a frustrating guy to be around.
ghost is in the kitchen, fixing up breakfast in the mess, and soap would just come up behind him, nuzzling his head into his neck and pressing his dick against simon. rutting into him kinda, before ghost shoots him a vicious glare. he backs off.
but then, he sees gaz walking in, and he rushes over to him, pulling him into a deep hug. one that was a bit too much for their usual morning interactions.
that's when you stumble in, weary eyed and still kinda lethargic from last night's ordeal.
and soap's not mad, not really, but he's frustrated that you got the better end of the deal.
so, he pulls you in, hands at your hips, before he's assaulting your mouth with feverish kisses. they're frantic, and you can feel how hard he is where it presses against your stomach. you try and pull away, and when you do, the man huffs like a disgruntled pup.
when it's price who comes in next, soap is pissed off beyond relief.
rising a brow, a challenging one, price would ask how he slept. soap would roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath that would have your eyes blowing wide, a little shocked, a little dismayed.
gaz would blow out a deep exhale, extracting himself from the situation, walking quietly over to ghost. which, for once, would be the safest option out of you four.
and price would narrow his eyes, daring soap to keep up his pissy attitude. soap would, of course, because this man has absolutely ZERO self preservation skills.
he'd then have the nerve to ask if he can bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you. just, openly asking, as if you yourself aren't standing right there.
price would simply tell him that he won't be allowed to stick his dick in anything for the rest of the week.
then, he'd stride over to the other two men without another word, tell them the same thing, and get to work cutting up some spinach.
and you'd be left there, gaping, confused, as soap stands with a similar expression. as if he wasn't fully aware that his actions held consequences, and he really shouldn't have been such a brat after last night.
he'd narrow his eyes at you, snarky, saying something about how you yet again evaded punishment.
say something about how price 'dinnae said nothin' 'bout bendin' ye over, aye?" and he'd forcefully bend you over the table, rutting into your back like a mutt, using your body without inserting anything anywhere.
and, with a moment of clarity, you'd realise that gaz and ghost are watching, with a glint of envy in their eyes.
you'd been in for a long week.
this is absolutely shit btw because halfway through writing this my BED BROKE and i think i may have also broken my toe. so this is coming from a place of pain and distress. great idea tho !! thanks for enjoying my writing mwah mwah
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tteokdoroki · 9 months
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Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(
but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!
Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓
☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.
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about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(
warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.
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you’re pissed. 
over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you. 
he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then. 
you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.  
because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.  
“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him. 
for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need. 
you feel what satoru can’t. 
“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.” 
everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist. 
and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be. 
and he’s practically a god. 
“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re  fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped. 
once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you  — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below. 
leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.” 
in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.” 
that makes satoru falter. 
it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.
and humans don’t last as long as gods do. 
seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you. 
he is weak for you. 
his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start. 
“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”
you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him. 
it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes. 
he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips. 
exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry. 
“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.” 
“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”
“i said turn it back on, gojo.” 
“look at me, please.” 
“gojo.” 
“please.” 
your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.
“i love you.” 
if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live. 
but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore. 
you would much rather have him kill you instead. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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livwritesstuff · 4 months
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i hit 100 followers while i was asleep (absolutely bananas imo but i’m so thrilled y’all are enjoying my steddie dads verse bc i’ve literally never had so much fun writing before) so here's a sneak peek of a wip featuring the Harrington fam
Eddie does not understand sports. 
He may be approaching fifty years old and way past his old ways of rejecting every notion that doesn’t perfectly align with his own interests, but even after all these years, the wires in his brain simply cannot wrap themselves around sports no matter how hard he tries.
And he does try because, naturally, he has three daughters, Moe, Robbie, and Hazel, all of whom play sports.
To be clear – his kids can do literally anything they want, bar none.
He’s still in goddamn awe with the whole arrangement that is the life he lives every day – kids and a house and a job he loves and all that with Steve Harrington of all people. There’s no way Eddie would start fucking all that up by projecting his own weird quirks onto his children. He refuses to be the kind of parent that prevents their kids from doing anything just because they don't get it. If the girls want to play sports, they’re gonna play sports. Nothing wrong with that.
Still, sports are one of those things he takes the back seat and lets Steve hold the reins for, especially now that thirteen-year-old Moe is pretty deep into the whole basketball thing. 
Steve understands the politics of the game, both on the court — like knowing which refs are gonna be biased towards which team and noting Moe’s play-time each game — and off. He schmoozes the coach, he’s friends with all the parents, all the things Moe, at thirteen, doesn’t even notice and Eddie, while aware of it, doesn’t understand. He still can barely follow the games themselves (and he goes to as many as he can, though he and Steve are outnumbered by one and with the prospect of the girls carting themselves around still a distant fantasy their schedule is insane so he can’t make them all). He does his best to follow his husband’s lead but Steve doesn’t always react to things the way Eddie thinks he will. He doesn’t bat an eye when a kid gets smacked in the face with a ball, nor at the impossibly loud thud when someone hits the deck (look — he gets the floor is hollow, but it is loud). He’s completely unbothered by the fit Moe throws every game whenever she’s inevitably benched for having an attitude with her opponents or her teammates or the coach or the ref or just about anybody who tries to get in her way.
As is what happened at Moe’s game yesterday.
Eddie hadn’t seen it — well, he’d seen it, but seeing something and understanding what he’s actually looking at are two totally different things. From what he gathers, Moe had missed an easy shot and gotten pissed off in her own little way about it, so she’d launched herself at whoever on the opposing team had gotten their hands on the ball after it ricocheted off the backboard. Unfortunately for Moe, the team they were playing had a reputation for being a little too aggressive for a middle school league, so when she’d hit the ground, she hit it hard. Moe had been pulled off the court by her coach (carded, maybe? Eddie still isn’t sure how that works in basketball) and scowled on the bench for the rest of the game.
Steve had tried to reason with her on the drive home (an interesting choice, in Eddie’s opinion).
“Darling,” he’d said, “I totally understand being upset about missing a layup, but I don’t know how to get it through your head that intentionally fouling someone isn’t the way to go about resolving that emotion. I love you and I support you, but I’m getting tired of watching you play for three minutes and then sit on the bench for the rest of the game.”
“Talk to the coach then,” Moe had grumbled.
“About what?” Steve exclaimed, “Moe — you do it on purpose!”
The conversation had ended not long later because Moe decided to give them both the silent treatment (a clear sign that she knew she was in the wrong even if she didn’t want to admit it) and Eddie thought that was the end of it (for that game, at least). Then, Moe threw them a curveball by spending most of that evening in the bathroom throwing up, at which point she admitted that her head had caught more of that fall during her basketball game than she’d originally let on.
Steve doesn’t mess around with head injuries (for obvious reasons), so the next morning he calls Moe out of school and brings her to their pediatrician to get checked out.
A couple hours after Robbie and Hazel boarded the school bus bound for their elementary school, Steve and Moe return home.
“So what's the verdict?” Ed asks as they enter the kitchen.
“She's concussed,” Steve announces.
“Like father, like daughter.”
“No sports, no bright lights, no reading, no school, no phone,” Steve says pointedly, and Moe only scowls harder. She’d been using the incident as a leveraging tactic in her crusade to get a phone. Not being able to play sports was a no-brainer; they’d all seen that one coming, so even as recently as this morning, she’d been claiming that she’ll “die of boredom without a phone,” while she recovers.
Even as recently as this morning, she’d been largely unsuccessful.
“Thirteen-year-old children do not need phones,” Steve had told her, “If someone wants to talk to you, they can call the house, and if it's urgent enough that it needs to be right now, you can get walkie talkies.”
“No one uses walkie talkies.”
“Your dad and I used walkie talkies all the time.”
“Uh, pretty sure it was just the one time, Steve,” Eddie pointed out.
“Yeah! And it worked out great!”
CONTINUE ON AO3
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