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#as usual the boys remain the most relatable
theworldinclines · 2 years
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astermath · 10 months
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uhmmmm
kitchen counter makeouts with pookie bear tasm peter <3
— @inkluvs (ivy)
the way you know damn well you are indulging me adjdkdk and I love you for it bae MWAH @inkluvs
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pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
tags: just sweet ol fluff, established relationship, first time writing for peter, normal sized text under the cut! <3
word count: 1.2.K
let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further peter parker related content!
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With Peter going on patrol until the nightly hours, you'd become used to cooking dinner later in the day. It wasn't a huge deal; you worked from home, and you were usually up when he was back anyways. Whether it was to tend to his injuries, hear about what he'd encountered that day, or just to cook some of his favorite pasta, you were always there for him when he returned. And he really appreciated that.
When you're a superhero, especially an anonymous one, it can be hard to find people to fall back on. That's why he considers having you one of his greatest strengths.
You're absentmindedly stirring some sauce when your boyfriend slips in through the bedroom window. He calls it the "spider-door", you call it a bad habit. He still uses it anyways. It's hard to use the front door of your apartment when you're dressed like the city's most popular vigilante.
He can smell the delicious mix of herbs and ingredients from the other room. The stress from the day was already melting off him, and he hadn't even spoken to you yet. He'd taken the liberty of slipping out of his suit and into a comfortable pair of sweats and a shirt. Although he did think it was snazzy, after wearing it almost the entire day, he couldn't wait to be out of it.
A pair of familiar strong arms wind around your waist, an even more familiar pair of lips pressing a soft kiss to the crook of your neck. You're used to it by now, the unexpected, sneaky greetings late at night. You weren't spooked by him, you rarely were. He likes to think his spidey senses have rubbed off on you.
He breathes in the scent of you, cheek resting onto your shoulder, and you can feel him relax into you.
"Good to see you too baby," you move your head to press a chaste kiss to his head, "how was patrol?"
"Fine," he sounds tired, and it's kind of hot, "stopped that coffee shop you like from being broken into."
"My hero," you chuckle, "now I won't have to miss those delicious chocolate croissants."
He whines lowly in response. It's a stark contrast to how he usually is, all talkative, giddy, boyish grins and jokes, bubbly laughter and strong hugs. Being a superhero will do that to you. Not exactly change you, just tire you out. A lot.
"Tired?" You ask, eyes remaining on the sauce you were preparing. It was a dumb question, of course he's tired, but he always hated admitting it.
To your surprise, he doesn't respond. Instead, he leans down and starts pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder again. You silently thank your past self for wearing a tank top, so he had plenty of access to your skin.
His lips leave tingles in their wake, your sauce becoming less interesting by the second, until you eventually turn around. You sigh at the sound of him; his hair is messy, his eyebags are prominent and he definitely needs a shower, but boy is he pretty. So pretty.
He lets you take a second to admire him, like he knows you love to do. Hands come up to cup his cheeks, the tiniest bit of stubble scratching against your palms. Your face is graced by an adoring smile, and that alone always lets him know; everything's okay, I got you.
He leans down, lips searching yours again. You happily indulge, one hand sneaking into the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss is longing, practically aching to be closer. You can feel how much he missed you just by the way his hips slide over yours.
His hands settle onto your waist, and for a moment you think he's just going to let them stay there. Of course not, because your boyfriend is anything if not unpredictable. With a gentle grip he lifts you up and turns the both of you around, setting you down onto the counter across the stove.
You giggle through the kiss, and you can feel him smile along with you, but he doesn't let go. It's like he can't, and not in a "help I just got spider powers and now I'm glued to you" way, no, like a "I'm so in love with you that I want this to last forever" way.
His hands settle onto your thighs, thumbs rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. It's like this is what recharges him. Not food, not water, this is what he survives on. Your pure unconditional affection.
Unfortunately for the two of you, humans do need air to live, so you're forced to pull away after a while. Still, you remain close, noses rubbing together ever so slightly, foreheads leaning against each other.
“You ‘kay sweetie?” Your voice is gentle, not wanting to ruin the tooth achingly sweet moment the two of you are having.
“Mhm…” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just so happy to see you again… I missed you.” he accentuates his words with another kiss. “A lot.”
A warm smile adorns your face when he admits to his longing for you. You know he misses you, he tells you every day, and he knows that the sentiment is returned. You both have your reasons to be missing each other; with Peter being a superhero, he has to be careful, so the reality of any day possibly being his last was… Present. Plus, it’s a busy job. Besides the one he already has.
You just enjoy each other’s presence for a moment, basking in the radiating glow of what could only be described as an aura of love. It was like nothing outside that kitchen mattered anymore, at least not for now. You and Peter against the world, out of your small apartment in Queens.
“Honey?” He asks, and you think he’s going to say something else really sweet and heartwarming to really drive the point home. Until you see the furrow in his brows.
“I think, uh— whatever you were making is burning.”
“Fuck!” You hopped off the counter and went back to the pot of sauce, groaning when you realised the bottom of it was burnt. “It’s fine, I can— I can salvage this.” You looked over at your boyfriend, who had an apologetic smile on his face. “We can make out all you want after I make you dinner, ‘kay?”
“And every day after?” His voice is gentle, his hand resting on your lower back to keep some form of physical contact with you.
“Of course,” you stand on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek, “every day after too.”
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milesandcorysupermacy · 3 months
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"Infection"
Miles!42 x Black!Reader
Genre: Enemies-to-lovers, Angst, Fluff
Warnings: Cursing
Summary: Miles is known as the school playboy, he's flirty, athletic, and attractive. Everyone wants (and has) a peice of him. But, how do you react when the one boy you're told to stay away from is falling for you? Do you do the same, or reject him?(maybe even a little bit of both?)
---------------------x-o-x-o---------------------
Now, Miles Gonzalo Morales was NOT the true definition of a playboy. When you think of a playboy, you usually think of a guy who just uses women as a number to add to their body count. Or, someone who just cheats on women left and right. But, that's not him.
You see, Miles just couldn't find someone who could relate to him or be on his level. He's been in about 10 relationships within the past year, but not for the reason people think. Every girl he dated was just boring, nobody could truly connect with him and that further deepened his loneliness. They all just wanted him for his looks, but never truly knew anything about him. So, he just kept leaving them. But, that didn't quite help his case.
I mean, a pretty boy who dates a girl for no longer than 2 months and leaves them? How does that look? And it didn't quite help that he had gained a nickname from this, 'Month Morales'. You had heard everything about him and his little reputation, some of the girls he was with even calling him a manipulator for making them think he liked them. There was a clear narrative to stay VERY far away from 'Month Morales' But, how could you do that when he couldn't leave you alone?
You were walking out of your last period for the day, the hallways crowded from everyone trying to rush out of the Visions high school. You were almost at the door, almost! And then...
"Ayo, Y/n! C'mere."
You heard the most annoying, gut wrenching, slow, dumb, stupid, DRAINING voice in the world. Miles Morales. You turn around with a stern tone and eye roll as he smirks from you listening to his command.
"Look, Morales. I don't have time for your bullshit, I just wanna go to my dorm and crash. Ok? So can you just leave me the hell alone for once?"
You said with your arms crossed and a death glare. But, this mother fucker remains unfazed. Instead of just apologizing or walking away like a normal person, he tempts you. He walks toward you, getting so close that you could feel his breath on your face. You wanted to push him, punch him, yell at him, tell him to back up, or even just walk away yourself. But, you couldn't do that.
There was just something that had you so addicted, maybe it was the forbiddance of it all? Or maybe it was just that you found him so handsome? He had that stupid smile on his face and a glisten in his eyes. But, no! You don't even like him! No! Absolutely not! You had to let him know that he can't just flash a smile and get any girl he wants! You were not gonna be a ploy in Morales' game.
"You know that's not what you want, mama."
He said with immense eye contact. Making you feel small, flustered. There was a feeling in your stomach that you've never had before. You kept your facade up and answered, sternly.
"How would you know what I want?
He softly chuckled and said...
"Because, if you truly wanted me to leave you alone..."
He trailed off and whispered in your ear.
"Why haven't you walked away yet?"
He then cocked his head to the side, waiting for your response. You genuinely didn't have one, why haven't you walked away? It's not like you couldn't, there was a clear path behind you. The door was open, and you just stood there looking like an idiot. You truly didn't know what to say, so you just shook your head, rolled your eyes, and turned around, heading to the exit. Miles had the cheesiest grin on his face, shouting from where you left him as you walked out the door.
"You'll realize that we're meant for each other soon enough!"
You sighed and shook you head as you grabbed onto your backpack straps. You walked over to the dorm building and took the elevator to your shared room with your friend, Sofia. She was already inside, due to her not being stopped by an annoying boy who won't leave her alone. You sighed as you set your stuff down in the corner of the room. She glanced up from her book, reading the pages assigned for homework.
"Hey, what took you so long?"
She questioned
"There was a...incident."
She smirked, cocking an eyebrow. She was immediately intrigued and placed her bookmark in her book, shutting it.
"Oh, a teenage boy by the name of Miles Morales related incident?"
You sighed, sitting in the rolling chair by the desk.
"That would be the one."
She smirked, sitting up and facing you. You rolled your eyes playfully.
"And was there any way that you could've prevented this incident?"
Your eyes grew wide from the question.
"Well...I mean...maybe...but like could I really have prevented it? He was so close to my face how-"
"Close to your face?! Did you guys kiss?"
"Wha-? No! Of course no-"
"Well then what's he doing so close to your face?"
"I dunno, I mean he's just weird like tha-"
"He totally likes you."
"No! He doesn't like me, he just likes to embarrass me. Which is why I don't like him eith-"
"I never asked you if you liked him, are you getting defensive?"
"No! I-"
"You totally are."
"Why would I be defensive?"
"Because you like him."
"I don't!"
There's a knock on the door that interrupts the whole rapid conversation. You thankfully sigh, getting up to open the door. Once you do, you nearly gasp in shock from who it is.
"Hey, mami."
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munson-blurbs · 4 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Day 12 of TUI-Mas
Warnings: pregnancy, allusion to smut, contractions, water breaking, labor and delivery, and Eddie wasn't there, epidural, medical emergency, lots of fluff
WC: 4.3k
A/N: I could not have written this piece without @the-unforgivenn 💚 everything accurate in this fic is because of her, and everything inaccurate is because of me. I love you, Annie. Thank you for asking my random birth-related questions at all hours.
Divider credit to @saradika
November 4, 1999
At nine months pregnant, everything hurts.
Perhaps that’s why when you wake up for work with an extra pinch in your back, you cast off any worries. Or maybe it’s because you still have over a week until you’re due, and first babies tend to take their time arriving, so there’s no possible way that today is the day.
You shrug on a sweater and your most comfortable pair of maternity jeans, your body heavy with pregnancy and fatigue. Your movements are sluggish, even more so than usual, and Eddie notices as he stands out the counter, shoveling a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth.
“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, tongue darting out to swipe a drip of milk from his lower lip.
Nodding, you massage just above your tailbone in a meager attempt to ease the pain. “Mhm,” you lie, grabbing two granola bars from the pantry. You unwrap one and take a big bite, letting the chocolate chips melt in your mouth. “Just ready to have this baby.” Another lie, or possibly a half truth; while you’re eager to have your body to yourself again, the prospect of labor and delivery terrifies you.
Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, his palms gently rubbing your bump. “Eleven more days and then we’ll be a family of four.”
“Baby Brother is taking forever to get here,” Harris laments from his seat at the table, spearing a banana slice with his fork. He glances at your stomach with impatient eyes. “Can’t you do something to hurry him up?”
You cough as your husband’s cheeks flush pink; he rakes a ringed hand through his curls. No doubt he’s remembering last night when he’d innocently lifted your belly to relieve some of the pressure, only to find himself hard as a rock as his fingers lightly dug into your skin. I’ll go slow so I don’t send you into early labor, he’d remarked with a teasing wink. 
“Gotta be patient,” Eddie says now, seemingly having recovered from the brief flashback. He slurps the remaining milk from the bowl and stifles a belch, reaching for his jacket and keys. “Have a great day at work,” he kisses you, smiling against your lips, “and school.” He ruffles Harris’s hair, and just like that, he’s out the door. 
Harris finishes his breakfast, placing his empty plate in the sink and scampering to the door to put on his sneakers. You watch enviously as he ties them with ease; you’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes until your feet are no longer swollen. 
“Come on, Mommy,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t wanna miss the bus.”
You silently pray that the short walk to the bus stop will ease your muscle tension, taking careful steps as you trail behind the far-too-energetic-for-8 AM little boy. 
Eleven more days. Only eleven more days, you tell yourself. The reminder has tears prickling along your lash line in a double-edged sword. You don’t think you can handle eleven more days of this discomfort, but will you truly be ready to have a newborn baby in less than two weeks? Once you give birth, you can no longer shield your baby from the world’s dangers and cruelties. Will your love be enough? Will you be enough? And how can you possibly figure it all out in just eleven days?
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Your mantra of eleven more days turns out to be just six hours. Since Will became a teacher two years ago, the two of you have made it a habit to spend time together after the students’ dismissal. You’re preparing art materials for tomorrow’s class when you feel it—a trickle of liquid sliding down your leg. 
Your eyes widen, heat crawling up your neck and into your face. I peed myself at work. It had happened once last month, but it was preceded by a sneeze, and you were already in the parking lot about to go home. When you’d told Eddie that evening, the two of you laughed so hard that you’d wet yourself again. 
But this feels…different. 
“Oh, no.” There’s another small stream, but it isn’t accompanied by any relief on your bladder. Your worried murmur gets Will’s attention, and he looks at you with concern. “I think my water broke, but I don’t know…it might just be pee…” Your voice trails off before you can speak in circles. 
Will leaps to his feet. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” The pair of scissors he’s been using to cut out paper stars clatter to the table as he rushes to your side. 
“Call Eddie,” you mumble, gripping your bump as a cramp—most likely a contraction, you realize—squeezes at your pelvis. “Tell him to—shit—to get my bag from the apartment and bring it to the hospital.” You bite your lip to stifle a groan. “I’ll call Wayne and ask him to get Harris from the bus.”  
He nods, dialing from the classroom phone as you rattle off the record store’s number. You pull your own Nokia cell phone—a purchase Eddie had insisted upon after you got pregnant, wanting to make sure you and Baby Munson stayed safe. 
“So, um,” Will hesitates after you’ve hung up with Wayne, ending the conversation with a promise to let him know as soon as the baby is born, “Eddie was in the middle of a guitar lesson, so I left a message with one of his employees—”
Please don’t say Ev, you wordlessly plead. Anyone but the stoner who can barely remember to show up to work on time. 
“Ev, I think?”
Shit. 
Will hooks his arm with yours, providing you with the stability to stand up. “Let’s get you to the hospital, all right? Maybe it’s a false alarm or something.”
You nod, but deep down, you know that this baby is on his way. Call it mother’s intuition, you muse wryly. 
After a quick stop in Principal Sinclair’s office to explain the situation, Will helps you into his Chevy Impala, grimacing along with you when another contraction hits. “Should we be timing those?”
You grit your teeth. “Shit, y-yeah. I completely forgot.” All those birthing books you’d read cover to cover to prepare for this moment, and you hadn’t even remembered to time your own damn contractions. “We need to track how long they last and the amount of time between them.”
Will remains unfazed. “We’ll just start now,” he says simply, flicking his wrist to check his watch. “It’s 2:32. Let me know when you get another one.” He turns the key in the ignition, taking your hand before putting the gear shift into drive. “It’ll be okay. Eddie’s gonna get the message, and he’ll be here soon.”
It’s as though he can read your mind, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s right; if you are in labor, it’s still early enough that Eddie won’t miss the birth. 
You hope. 
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Your contractions are one minute long and twelve minutes apart by the time you reach Hawkins General Hospital, growing slightly stronger with each wave. Will relays the information to the receptionist, his voice wavering with nerves and excitement despite his best efforts to remain calm. 
Before you know it, you’re being wheeled into a room, a laminated bracelet with your personal details dangling from your wrist. The clock on the wall indicates that it’s just past 3 PM, which means that Eddie should be here in a few minutes. 
As if on cue, the cell phone in your purse chirps its familiar ringtone. Harris had insisted that you change it from the standard option, choosing one that sounds like birds chirping. It normally reminds you of springtime mornings; right now, you’re ready to throw it through the window. 
Will passes it to you, and you punch the answer button with an impatient, “hello?”
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Eddie’s carefree demeanor wafts through the speaker, “just wanted to check in and see if you’re feeling any better. Did you want me to pick up something from the store on my way—?”
Dammit, Ev. “Eddie, my water broke at work. Will called earlier and left a message,” you manage, maneuvering around the heart rate monitor to brace for another contraction. “I’m—ughhh, shit—I’m at the hospital.”
“What?!” You can hear his sudden shift to panic; the phone drops from his grasp and clatters on the counter before he retrieves it, uttering a slew of swear words. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Your bag’s at home, right? Oh, and Harris! Shit, let me—”
“Wayne’s on it,” you tell him, hopefully putting an end to his mile-a-minute thoughts. “I just need my bag and my husband.” 
There’s a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. “I can provide both.” His humor peeks through his fear in subtle reassurance. “Be there ay-sap. I love you so fucking much.” 
“Love you, too.” A soft click tells you that he’s on his way, probably simultaneously scrambling for his keys and shouting at his employee. 
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Nearly an hour later, there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will blots the perspiration on your forehead with a cloth; out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching the clock as well. “He’ll be here,” he says as though reading your mind. Or maybe he’s scared that he’ll have to stand in for Eddie throughout the entire process. “In the meantime, I’ll flag down a nurse so we can get you that epidural.” His words are even, but his smile is uneasy, both of you well-aware that he is out of his element. Though he’ll deny it vehemently, you know you owe him. Big-time.
“Why don’t you grab yourself some food from the cafeteria?” You’d heard his stomach growling just before, and he can certainly use a break. 
Will nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you want anything?” he asks out of habit, cheeks tinged pink as you shake your dismal cup of ice chips. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He ducks out of the room as a nurse walks in. 
“Are we considering an epidural, Mrs. Munson?” she asks. Her bright smile is one you’ll be unable to return until after the pain medication takes effect. 
“Y-Yeah, please.” You shift uncomfortably while she examines you and announces that your cervix is four centimeters dilated. Part of you is relieved that labor is progressing at a pace where Eddie should arrive in time for the delivery; another part just wants this baby out of you, now. 
The nurse makes a note on your chart. “I’ll let the anesthesiologist know.” Another unreciprocated grin and she’s gone, off to poke and prod the next patient. 
Alone for a moment, you relish the quiet, save for the soft beeps of the machines you’re connected to. With great care, you caress the swell of your stomach where your son has developed from a microscopic speck to a full-term baby. 
“Your daddy will get here soon,” you murmur to your sensor-covered belly, “hopefully before you do.” You laugh for a second until another contraction squeezes you from the inside, shifting your expression from amused to pained. 
The anesthesiologist and Will arrive at the same time, the former pausing to let your impromptu birth partner enter first. He walks with more enthusiasm now that he’s eaten, though his meal threatens to reappear when he sees the doctor pull out the comically oversized needle. 
“Just lean forward,” she says to you, “you’ll feel some pressure, but once the medication kicks in, it’ll be worth it.” She offers you a kind smile before turning to Will and explaining, “you may need to help her.”
“Mhm. Sure.” Will mumbles, avoiding looking at the needle. You clasp your hand in his so you can sit up. The cool air raises goosebumps on the sliver of flesh no longer covered by the gown, but the chill is quickly replaced by a stinging sensation that has you gripping Will’s palm. You don’t realize the strength of your grasp until you hear him mutter, “ow,” but you don’t let go until the burning ceases. 
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, watching him shake out his hand. “About all of this. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your afternoon.”
He shakes his head and guides you back against the pillow. “Maybe not, but I’m glad I can be here for you.” Now that the threat of broken fingers has passed, he truly means it. 
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5:46 PM. 
You’ve been in the hospital for nearly three hours, and there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will’s casually flipping through a copy of People magazine that’s so outdated, Nick Nolte was just crowned the Sexiest Man Alive. He’s visibly more relaxed now that the medication has eased your pain, chattering teeth a welcome replacement for your anguished moans.
Your concern that Eddie will miss the baby’s birth has hardened into pure fear that something has happened to him. What if he lost focus while driving and got into an accident? The weather was overcast when you’d arrived at Hawkins General; it could have started raining since then and created slippery roads, perfect for hydroplaning. The thought of him hurt while you’re unable to help him has your insides churning, and for the first time, you’re grateful for an empty stomach.
Maybe you should call Wayne and find out if he had heard from his nephew. But if he hadn’t, then both of you would be stuck worrying and answerless; even worse, if he had and didn’t want to relay bad news while you’re in such a vulnerable state–
“I’m here!” 
Relief surges through your veins, Eddie’s panting voice music to your ears. You roll from your side onto your back to see your husband standing by your bedside. Sweat drips down his temples and pools under his arms with the pungency of someone who’d just completed a marathon. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, a jacket haphazardly tossed over his shoulder and your bag clutched in his hand.
He swoops down and places his lips on yours in a series of frantic kisses, his free palm cupping your cheek as though ensuring that the moment is real. He only pulls back when you do, getting a glimpse of your face.
“Where were you?” Not an accusation, but a question threaded with genuine care. 
His nose nudges yours as he sneaks in another peck. “Did you know that Chief Hopper retired?” Your brows furrow in confusion at his non-answer to your question. “Well, he did, and the sheriff’s department decided to throw him a parade. Today. Closed off a bunch of the side streets and backed up traffic on the main ones.” He coughs out a terse laugh. “Glad I quit smoking, or my lungs would’ve given up before I hit a half-mile.”
You mull over his response for a moment before it finally clicks. “Wait…did you run here?”
He tugs at his shirt fabric in an attempt to create a breeze that will cool him down. “It was more like a walk-run combo, but…yeah.” He shrugs, no big deal. “Parked my car in a random lot and just…booked it.” His shoulder gently sag as the adrenaline from his adventure wears away. “I gotta sit.”
It’s then that he notices Will, rising from the chair and placing the gossip rag on the table beside him. “Byers, holy shit,” Eddie looks at him incredulously, “have you been here with her the whole time?”
“He has,” you answer for him, managing a grateful smile in your friend’s direction. “And I can’t thank him enough.” Will returns the gesture and pulls Eddie in for a hug, wishing you both luck before slipping out the door.
Eddie brings his full attention back to you, lacing his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes the side of your hand, bringing small but strong comfort with each gentle touch. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry–”
“Eds,” you interrupt before he can continue his apology, “you’re here now.”
“Yeah.” Soft, distracted, overthinking. You can practically see the gears in head spinning, His second child and the second time he’d nearly missed the birth. He clears his throat and shakes away the thought with a toss of his hair, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “How are you feeling?” He takes in the sight of you, his wife, the most beautiful being his cynical eyes have ever seen. “You look pretty damn good for someone about to have a baby.”
You laugh. “That epidural is a miracle from above.” You’ll gladly take the chattering teeth and the itchiness over the sensation of your pelvis imploding. Eddie doesn’t share in your amusement, still focused on his own shortcomings. “Hey,” you say quietly, pulling him out of his mind with just one word. “Don’t think about the missed message or the traffic. We’re having our baby today.” You bring his hand to the apex of your stomach in the final few hours that it houses the life you two created together.
“I love you.” 
His eyes shine with emotion. He’s here, not only in this moment, but throughout the entire pregnancy. He didn’t bury himself in music or booze or other arbitrary distractions. He’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover, had gone to all of the doctor’s appointments, made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with your cravings and free of your aversions. He’d picked up the household chores (and delegated some to Harris) to ease your workload and wiped your tears when you’d cried while watching two squirrels play in a tree. 
You never asked him to do any of it; you never needed to. 
“I love you, too.”
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It all happened so quickly. 
One minute, Eddie’s watching the monitor spike with a contraction, utterly bewildered by the power of pain medication. 
“You really can’t feel that?”
“Just some pressure, but nothing like earlier. I told you; it’s a godsend.”
After hours of strategic breathing, a plethora of ice chips, and a steady outpouring of love between you two, you’re about to tell him that you feel the urge to push. 
And then a nurse rushes in. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” he begins, urgency evident even through his calm exterior, “your baby is experiencing late heart rate deceleration. We need to begin delivery immediately.” He glances at Eddie, then at you. “I’m going to check your dilation to see if we’ll try a vaginal delivery or prepare for a cesarean birth.”
 The blood drains from Eddie’s face as he processes the information, the lighthearted energy completely zapped from the room. “Is…is she…are they…”
The nurse finishes the examination, removing his rubber glove. “Ten centimeters,” he announces. “I’ll page the doctor.”
It’s a whirlwind, with almost no time for panic to set in. The doctor and the other nurses arrive immediately, and when Eddie takes your hand, you can feel him trembling. 
He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be strong for you. Your face says it all: you’re terrified, and you need him to be your rock.
“You’ve got this, Sweetheart,” he whispers fiercely, pushing past the lump in his throat. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know, and I’m so lucky that you’re having my baby.” He kisses your forehead; out of the corner of his eye, he sees the medical staff preparing for delivery. His heart skips a beat, and the realization hits that he’s about to be a father of two.
You’re exhausted, a salty mixture of sweat and tears decorating your face. Gritting your teeth, you push while Eddie coaches you, reminding you to breathe and allowing you to swear at him without even batting an eyelash. It’s mostly a blur, with all of your energy concentrated on getting this baby out, but you vaguely recall telling him that he’s not allowed to even think about touching you again.
“Almost there,” he cheers, flashing an awestruck smile so wide that his cheeks ache. “C’mon, you can do it! Oh, my god, you’re a goddamn superhero.” 
Three giant pushes later, you hear the telltale newborn wail as a nurse coos, “Happy birthday, little man! Here’s your mama!” She gently places your tiny baby on your chest, quickly wiping off the vernix covering his body. 
“He’s here!” you manage through simultaneous laughter and cries. You carefully hold him against you, kissing the wisps of curls on his scalp. “Hi, baby boy!” Turning to Eddie, you blink away the mist coating your eyes. “We have another son,” you choke out.
He just nods, relishing in the wonder of becoming a father again. His pointer finger grazes the baby’s little half-closed fist, only looking away when the nurse asks him if he’d like to cut the umbilical cord. “Y-Yeah. Please,” he awkwardly adds, doing exactly as he’s instructed. 
As the baby is lifted from your torso to be assessed and measured, Eddie kisses you with a passion you’ve never felt before, even from him. You can see that he’s crying, too, and he wipes his cheeks haphazardly.  
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, punctuating the statement with another kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids.” His nose rubs yours tenderly. 
You smile at him. “Do you want to call Wayne? I won’t be up for visitors until the morning,” you add, “but I just want to let him know that the baby’s here, happy and healthy.”
“In a bit,” he murmurs, watching the nurse carefully swaddle his newborn son in a hospital blanket. “I just wanna hold him first.”
Eddie takes your baby from the nurse, shifting to support his head. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.” His body slowly sways as he rocks back and forth. “You gave us quite the scare just now. I see you’re following in your big brother’s mischievous footsteps.” He swears his heart melts when the infant opens his mouth to yawn. “Yeah, you’ve had a busy day. Same here. But it was worth it, huh?”
He wears fatherhood so naturally, so perfectly. You wish you could capture this feeling in a jar and save it forever. For now, you settle for watching him fawn over his newest son, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Eddie murmuring, “and let me tell you: you have the best mommy a kid could ever ask for.”
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Morning arrives after a restless sleep. You know the nurses are just following protocol when they examine you every hour, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. 
But the next knock on the door is one that you welcome willingly. Harris and Wayne stand there, waiting for permission to enter. You smile when you notice Harris shuffling his feet and shaking his hands in an attempt to expel some excess energy. 
“Come on in,” Eddie whispers, beaming, “there’s someone very special we’d like to introduce you to.”
Harris rushes to your bedside, peering at the bundle in your arms. “My baby brother!” he squeals, jumping up and down. 
Eddie puts a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay?” He ruffles Harris’s hair as the boy nods. “Do you wanna hold him?”
“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Harris lowers his voice, sitting down on the bed. You scoot over, careful not to move too quickly, and he melds into your side. He’s always been small to you, but compared to his baby brother, he seems so grown up. 
“Okay, hold out your arms like this,” Eddie instructs, demonstrating the correct position, “and you’re gonna make sure to keep his head nice and safe, because he can’t hold it up on his own yet.”
Harris sports a look of concentration as you and Eddie work in tandem to place the baby in his arms. “He’s got the teeniest nose I’ve ever seen.”
Wayne laughs at this, watching his older grandson snuggle his youngest. “Does this little fella have a name yet?”
“Oh, right.” Eddie chuckles. “Gentlemen, this is Hendrix William Munson. ‘Hendrix’ after one of the most talented guitarists to grace this planet, and ‘William’ after an amazing friend and substitute birth partner.”
“Hendrix,” Harris repeats incredulously, never taking his eyes off of his brother. “I’m Harris. I talked to you when you were in Mommy’s tummy, remember?” Hendrix lets out a long exhale, like he’s acknowledging the question. “I know you’re still too little right now, but when you get big, we’re gonna play together all the time. Except when I’m at school.” He looks over at you expectantly. “Can I bring him to school with me? Like for show and tell?”
“Maybe when he’s older,” you say, lacking the bandwidth to point out the logistics of his request. 
Harris wrinkles his nose, but his expression quickly softens. “Yeah, you’re right. He can’t even do any tricks yet.”
It’s quiet for a moment, everyone focused on the two Munson boys. Surprisingly, Wayne is the one who breaks the silence. 
“You two have one beautiful family,” he muses, an arthritic finger grazing Hendrix’s blanket. “Y’should be proud of yourselves.”
Eddie gives his uncle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Couldn’t have done it without ya, Old Man.”
Wayne knows this, accepting the compliment with a bashful grin but saying nothing further. 
Peacefulness surrounds the five of you, soft conversation seamlessly weaving its way into the calm. You can’t kid yourself; most days will be pure chaos, balancing spit-up and school plays, field trips and feeding schedules. And once Hendrix starts walking—and running—you’ll need all cylinders firing. 
But today, right now, you soak in the serenity. Just you and your boys. Your family. 
--
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delululand · 6 months
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txt & what makes them jealous? how will they act on it?
yeonjun
he still gives me the vibe of a person who is unconsciously flirts with other people and if you behaved the same way he would rather take it as some kind of game and turn the topic into a joke and most likely into flirtatious dirty talks with you (and we all know that this will lead to screaming his name in a bedroom)
but if it was something really serious and he was worried about it, I think he’ll be upset and would try to talk and find out what was going on, however if his partner denied it or tried to get away from the topic it would be a complete scandal
soobin
i think he's not very jealous. usually when they talk about things related to jealousy, he speaks quite neutrally, for example, at the moment when everyone in korea was discussing perilla leaves, he said that it would be normal for him if his partner did this. the only time he said something about this was i don’t remember where exactly it was, but they discussed skinship and he said that he likes it more when he himself shows skinship (rather than someone starting to touch him) and he doesn’t like it when someone starts touching people close to him. and in fact there are quite a lot of videos of him removing the hand of one of members from another member or preventing them from holding hands by placing his hand and all that (especially protects huening kai)
so I think he would really be jealous mainly in moments of physical contact, even if it is something quite insignificant and most likely he would not say it directly, but try to separate his s/o and this person
I'll leave the video below with the dialogue between soobin and beomgyu and it shows their difference in this matter very well
beomgyu
okay if you watched the video you already know this. this guy is the winner in terms of jealousy among all members. he wouldn't let the members and other men in general touch you, flirt with you (even if they were just trying to be polite), spend too much time alone with you and everything else, he's the type of guy who starts whining "do you really love him more than me?????” if you pet your dog/cat for too long
I think he would be more open in expressing his feelings? like if another guy was flirting with you in front of him, he wouldn’t remain silent and, looking at him contemptuously, made some sarcastic comment, pulling you by the waist towards him and will definitely tell you what an arrogant loser this guy is as soon as you step aside
taehyun
actually i think he's almost not jealous at all? he looks the calmest and most emotionally mature so he would not pay attention to many things like just a long conversation or sitting next to, and if something did make him jealous, he would just talk to you about it when you were alone.
i really don’t see him at all as a jealous person or a person who would make a scandal about this, only dialogue or perhaps i can see how he behaves coldly. for example, if it's something really weird and his partner doesn't want to talk to him/denies everything and something like that, then after a few tries he would most likely get tired of it and cool off
huening kai
oooohhh don't make him jealous🥺 i can't stop saying how soft this boy is. if you look carefully at the moments when soobin pays more attention to the other members and starts being cute with them, his face changes. so i think that even just paying attention to another person while ignoring him would already make him jealous. and i'm not talking about flirting or anything like that, but just something like you’re together with other members and actively discussing with someone a new movie that you both watched but kai didn’t and he would just 🫥
knowing his character, he most likely would not have said anything? he'd probably just be upset for the rest of the day and act a little distant, answering your questions that everything is fine and he’s just little tired
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absolutebl · 24 days
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This Week in BL - Taiwan has one show, but that's all they need
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
April 2024 Wk 1
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) ep 4 of 10 - I don’t say this often but I LOVE this love triangle. The longing gazes = chef's kiss. I like that we are finally getting flashbacks to Tai’s side of the love affaire. This show remains highly engaging. So pleased for MaxNat.  
Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 5 of 8 - More lesbians! Yay! Meanwhile, when our leads make up they make out! (Yes I’m proud of myself.) I think this might be BLs first rooftop sex scene. We’ve reached new heights, BLabies. (Yes I’m proud of that too.) Anygay, basically a soap opera at this point, I'm not thrilled but I don’t mind.
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"Do you apologize for being straight?"
City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - It was lovely. Very well done celebrity leaving the closet ep. Nice ensemble work too. Next week is doom! As expected. 
Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. It’s fine but overly very pulp feeling for something from GMMTV. I'm a little concerned.
1000 Years Old (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - meh.
To Be Continued (Sat C3 Thailand grey) ep 7 of 8 - Never turned up on my usual sites. So will have to wait until next week. 
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 7 of 11 - Qian was, indeed, the one who couldn’t let go. This show is fucking fantastic. It's the best thing I'm watching right now by a mile.
Jazz for Two (Korea Gaga/grey) eps 3-8fin - The bully and the blue-haired drummer side pairing were great. I hated the father. Hated him so much. Our main tsundere seme was a bit too tsundere for me. I was v annoyed by the time he finally softened. I'm amused by all the ways they finagled boys kissin-but-not-kissing in the first half of this show. 2024's "pan around the back of the head" has now become a "dipping of the brolly." We did, however, eventually get an okay kiss.
Honestly?
This was basically what I wanted from Given and didn’t get. So I’m pleased. The music still wasn't great, but you can skip those bits. A solid enemies to lovers BL, where the sins of brothers' past haunts the present. Great optics, decent chemistry, and a tidy script even if tsundere characterization went a bit extreme in some cases. 8/10 RECOMMENDED trigger for suicide
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Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 6 - We got the past betrayal in detail and it was decently bad. Bitterness understood. Too soon to live together! The BL U-Haul strikes again. I do like their weird curry passive aggressive argument. This is an interesting show. Do I LOVE it? No. But I think I like it.
On a not-really-related note: adoption, including adult adoption, is actually pretty common in Japan (comparatively). It's often tied to business scionism.
My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 8fin - It all turned out to be a tragic GL in the end. Not BL = not my problem. No rating. I will forget its existence right about… now. 
Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 1-2 of 12 - Okay, weirdly kinky with the head scratching. Not much has happened and I’m not wild about what has. 
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It's done, ready to binge, but I suck
What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps
It's airing but...
We Are (Weds GMMTV iQIYI) ep 1 of 16 - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN but I need my other computer and I'm traveling as usual. So I'll get caught up next week and probably won't regularly be able to watch this one.
Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) - It's too much for me to keep up with 2 minute verticals, I don't have that kind of TikTok endurance training.
A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - Completed. Worth watching?
Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.
Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) 6 eps - It’s so boring DNFed at 2.
Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) 6 - The problem with situational comedy BL is it must be situational, comedic and a BL. This show gets 1 of 3 claims correct. 33% is not a passing grade. Dropped at 3.
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In the news
Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari is getting the undeserved honor of Furritsubs. Follow them for details. Tip 'em if you like 'em. (Will I watch it? Oh, probably. Damn it.)
Then Next Prince turned out to be a trailer only. Word on the webs is we will be lucky if we get it this year. It’s BL Princess Diaries. Jimmy has a new pairing (that boy from Night Dream) which is... interesting. All in all, this show does not look good. Pretty but not good.
Next Week Looks Like This:
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4/11 Gray Shelter AKA Gray Currents (Korea ????) 4 eps - SooHyuk is only just surviving and reunites with YoonDae, an old friend. They end up living together. One of the leads is played by Choco of Choco Milk Shake.
4/12 Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - Kindly Ryota goes off to uni only to find his new roommate is his childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend and Ryota tries to help him figure out why, they fall in love along the way. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake.
Still to Come in April
4/18 At 25:00, in Alaska AKA 25 Ji, Akasaka de (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - Yuki lands his first starring role in a BL drama alongside superstar Asami (previously his senior at uni). Said superstar suggests they form a sham relationship until filming concludes. As they actually begin to fall in love, the spotlight begins to burn. I think I've seen this before (joke) and also the trailer doesn't inspire confidence.
4/26 My Stand-In (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of that show was the clashing directing styles). This one looks well complicated, lemme try: Joe is a stuntman for famous actor Tong. Joe falls in love with Ming but Ming sees Joe as nothing more than a Tong-replacement. After learning this horrible truth, Joe dies. Joe then wakes up in the body of another man also named Joe. He manages to rebuild the same life as before—with the same people eventually re-meeting Ming. Ming wants Joe back but Joe doesn't understand why. But Ming seems to know what's going on and wants to give him some kind of explanation.
I'm exhausted just trying to describe the plot.
Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner) and Best, news here.
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
See City of Stars & Unknown.
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire
If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.
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hadesisqueer · 9 months
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Anyone who says that Imogen probably turning out to be a lesbian with comphet or at least some sort of sapphic next season is forced because "it's unrealistic that everyone in a friend group turns out to be queer" is stupid, because that is actually the most realistic thing about the show lmao. Most of my friends from my several different friend groups over the years have turned out to be queer; I came out first and then the others slowly started coming out as well. My current friend group has a single cishet person.
And my best friend right now? She's a lesbian. But-- she didn't know she was a lesbian when I met her four years ago, when I was 17 and she was 15. She thought she was straight. All of her friends at the time were straight, so she assumed she was, too, just not AS boy crazy, even though she pretended she was. Then I switched schools and ended up in her friend group. I was out of the closet already and was the token gay person in the group, so she and I ended up kinda bonding over the fact that we felt a bit left out with the whole boy crazy thing, since all the others talked about was dating guys and a couple of the girls were the typical straight girls who feel uncomfortable around lesbians, so I guess that's part of the reason why my friend also didn't actually feel safe enough to question herself even if she considered herself an ally. My best friend ended up falling out with the others but remained my friend; she had realized could relate more to me than to the others, and at some point, she told me she wasn't sure if she was straight herself, and she actually started questioning herself and figuring out that she was a lesbian and that all this time she just hadn't felt like she was around an environment where she could understand who she was without feeling judgement. Then she got a girlfriend before I did but that's not the point.
My point is that queer people tend to end up in friend groups that are mostly queer, so the friend group on Heartstopper only having Tao as the single cis straight friend is quite realistic. And just like my best friend, and lot more of my friends who didn't come out until I did: a lot of people need an environment where they feel comfortable in order to start questioning themselves, and that is usually around another queer person who will understand what you're going through. So, Imogen realizing she might be gay only just now that she has started being around other openly queer people because before she was around people who expected her to be straight and like boys and date her friend because he's a boy she's known for a while-- it is actually quite realistic. It happens a lot.
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watatsumiis · 5 months
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Being A Part of the Sumeru Squad!
I've been thinking a lot recently about being a part of the ‘in’ group in Sumeru - the ones shown to be good friends on screen already (Tighnari, Cyno, Al Haitham and Kaveh!) I feel like there's lots of ways one could slot themselves into the dynamic and it's just very pleasant and fun to think about. 
(Rambles below the cut. Platonic stuff, reader is referred to as ‘you’ and is entirely gender neutral) 
Though the squad is almost constantly making playful little jabs at one another, bickering back and forth and whatnot, they're overall a pretty supportive and kind group and accept you into their midst without too much fuss. 
You soon find yourself invited to a myriad of small, casual get-togethers where the group catches up with one another. It's kind of weirdly formal at first, with so many of them holding such high and important statuses. 
Luckily, Kaveh also ends up feeling pretty left out during these discussions, so you'll have someone to chat with or ask questions when you've lost track of the topic at hand. Plus, he's often got some very funny (and surprisingly astute) commentary to add on, even when the subject is painfully dull. 
Once all the politics are out of the way, the conversation tends to ease right up for a little while. Regardless of whether you're at some restaurant or cafe, or just hanging out at someone's house, there's usually snacks available and things will remain super lighthearted for a bit, all jokes and talks of recently released books or occasional infodumps about hyperfixations and special interests. 
On that subject, whenever the stars align and two or more group members have the same special interest or hyperfixation, hoo boy, you can expect them to monopolise the conversation and somehow always drag it back to whatever niche fascinations that they may have accrued lately. 
If you have something you want to talk about, you can rest assured that at least one person in the room will be able to engage. Everybody has their own collection of equally specific and obscure knowledge - with the occasional kind of hilarious overlap. Kaveh and Cyno’s shared fascination with Fontanian machinery, or Tighnari and Al-Haitham’s in-depth discussions of insectoid languages and their potential overlap with human ones are some of the first to come to mind. 
Of course, disagreements do break out every now and then - but everyone is fairly civil for the most part, if a little bit overdramatic and occasionally loud. It's interesting to see how everyone the group tends to take sides almost as soon as a hint of a possible disagreement rears its head. Al-Haitham once questioned Cyno's sense of humour, querying whether it could really be considered comedy if nobody was laughing, and pretty soon, Tighnari and Kaveh were arguing along as passionately as if they'd been personally insulted. 
You tend to be the tiebreaker more often than not - with such an evenly split group, there often tends to be an even balance between whatever arguments. It doesn't help that Al-Haitham likes to break it all down and give pros and cons for both sides (while still keeping his own stance firm), which may make it impossible for you to decide. 
Luckily, it's easy enough for you to guide the group's attention elsewhere. Just offer to make them some hot drinks or ask if someone wants to play a round of Genius Invocation, and it's like the argument never happened at all. 
It's easy to wind up feeling a little out of place in a group of such highly ranking people, but it's like your friends develop a sixth sense for when you're starting to get a little confused or feeling out of your depth. Instead of poking fun at you (like they do for Kaveh), they'll find a way to rope you into the conversation that doesn't put too much pressure on you. Cyno and Tighnari, especially, seem to have a way of relating things to subjects that are in your area of expertise to help you parse them better so you can find your footing and be debating back and forth with the rest of them. 
Game nights tend to get really intense. It's not a case of if someone will flip their lid, it's simply a case of when. Alliances and subsequent betrayals are all too common, and you'll often find yourself being bribed to help someone one-up another person. 
They even have a ‘trophy’ for winning each week's game night. It's a tiny crown, carved out of wood and painted gold. Collei made it and donated it to the group. Whoever possesses the crown also possesses the ultimate bragging rights until the next gaming night (or until they accidentally sit on it and squash it with their big clumsy butt. Kaveh ). 
Though the group is chaotic, noisy, and constantly teasing one another, they're all so supportive of one another and will stick together through thick and thin. As the conversations slow down, sometimes some pretty serious subjects get brought up, heavy venting and other such similar things. 
Though, they're all very understanding if someone isn't in the correct headspace for that sort of talk, and will happily postpone it or talk about it elsewhere if needed. They're also very used to multiple conversations happening at once, so it's easy enough for someone to dodge around the heavy topics if they need to. 
The squad can be almost violently supportive at times. Sometimes you worry that Cyno may be one hundred percent genuine about abusing his status as the General Mahamatra to threaten somebody who mildly inconvenienced you one time in the market last week. 
Overall, the vibes of the friend group are super fun (if a little intense at times). They may not say it directly, but everyone is super glad to have you around, hanging out with them and getting in on all the goofs they make and shaking up their dynamic a little bit.
Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! I do not consent for my works to be translated and posted elsewhere, or copy - pasted into bot or AI technology.
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eraenaa · 2 months
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Jealousy, Jealousy (Demi-God AU)
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Aemond, Son of Ares x Reader, Daughter of Aphrodite
Sequel to Stereotypical but could be read as a standalone.
Synopsis: It’s frustratingly hard to keep admirers and doubts away when you and your partner are the most attractive and powerful Demi-Gods in camp.
Warnings: Mature, 18+, P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Semi-Public Relations, Jealousy, Not Proofread
Word Count: 3,358
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Aemond knew being with you, the prettiest girl in camp— whose beauty could almost rival Aphrodite’s would come with the pathetic adoration of other boys. He thought it would not bother him— that he was mature enough and secure enough in himself to remain un-phased, but he was sorely wrong. 
Ever since the both of you had confessed your mutual attraction, you had requested to keep your relations between the both of you. Fearing to be labeled that your relationship was stereotypical— that it was cliche for the both of you to thread the path once walked by your godly parents. Aemond was hesitant, he wanted to shout it through the whole of camp and Olympus that he has you— that he was blessed enough by the gods to be with you. But when you flashed Aemond a pleading look and took his calloused hands into yours, giving it a pleading squeeze… all he could do was sigh and agree to your request. His heart stuttered as you flashed him your gorgeous smile and kissed his lips in a quick peck. 
Aemond clenched his jaw as he trained once more; you were sitting by the bench minding your own business, adoringly watching him, when all of a sudden, a group of boys started to approach you and offered their adoration— as they always did. Aemond thought he was above jealousy. That his pride would not lower itself and fret over the attention of puny boys, but as Jacaerys boldly stepped closer to you and the sons of Apollo tried to get a hold of your hand, Aemond was possessed by the rage that consumed his father. 
He was ready to march over to where you were seated and challenge all the boys before you to a duel— he was ready to fight for your hand. To make it known to everyone that you were his. But you stood and gave them a polite smile before walking away, looking back at Aemond, a silent language in your eyes for him to follow you. Aemond dropped his sword and promptly left the training grounds.
You waited by a tree line for Aemond. Wanting to spend the afternoon with him in your private spot by the lake. You were hidden behind a willow tree, unknown by anyone.  As you hear footsteps approaching, you cannot help but grin and peek from behind the mossy tree trunk. However, your grin was quick to wilt when you saw Aemond being stopped and chatted by a daughter of Athena. Aemond had a reputation for being indifferent to everyone save you— so it bothered you terribly when you saw a small smile pass his lips whilst talking to one of the daughters of the goddess of wisdom. 
Your eyes narrowed, and your fists clenched at the unwelcome pitting of your heart. They say your mother was an overly jealous woman— you thought you would be saved from that trait, but you were sorely wrong. Your lips unconsciously pouted as you stomped away, disregarding your and Aemond’s silent agreement to meet by the lake, instead going to Helaena and Aegon to find comfort and distraction from the gnawing feeling inside you. 
Aemond waited by the lake until sundown. Sitting on a log, patiently waiting for you but you never came. Aemond confusedly went to dinner in search of you, but you were not there. He would pass his gaze to the table where your brothers and sisters sat, waiting for you to grace their presence— worrying him that you had skipped a meal. “Pathetic,” Aemond then heard his sister, who sat across from him, mutter under her breath, removing his gaze at the table you would usually be in. “What?” He asked. “You, you’re growing pathetic.” She said, “I hold you in high regard, brother— I used to understand why father favored you. But to watch you grow into a simpering simpleton for a girl? A daughter of Aphrodite, no less? It’s pathetic.” Aemond painted a confused, offended, and angered expression on his face. “What in the gods’ name are you saying?” He gritted out. His sister simply scoffed. “Did you truly think I would not notice? That she has you sneaking out in the middle of the night, breaking curfew as well— that you’re skipping and cutting your training short to be with her on the lake? Sneaking in contrabands to give to her as gifts? She has you wrapped around her fingers like her mother had done to our father. It’s pathetic.” Before Aemond could defend, his sister stood and walked off, leaving him to question his actions. Was he truly growing pathetic?
You lay in your bed as your siblings returned from dinner. Your fingers play with the necklace pendant around your neck. “We need to talk,” Your eldest brother sighed, making you frown as your siblings gathered around your bed. “About what?” You asked, taking hold of the plush toy your father had given you back in the mortal world. “We’ve noticed you’ve been sneaking around with a son of Ares,” your sister said. You feigned innocence and cluelessness. “What?” You asked in fake confusion. Your brother scoffed and shook his head, moving to sit on the foot of your bed. “Do not try to deny it, sister. We’ve seen you attentively watch him while he trains— we noticed you sneaking off with him to the lake.” You frown as he reveals them knowledgeable of your and Aemond’s relations; you thought you hid it well. “So what?” You said after a short moment of steely silence. “I like him,” You confessed. 
“We know, it’s obvious.” Another of your brothers answered, making you blush. “We’re just asking you to be cautious,” Your sister sighed and gently took your hand. “The offsprings of Ares are known to be… harsh,” she added. “Yes, they do not know nor understand of the delicateness of us— we just do not wish you to be hurt, sweet sister.” You slowly nod your head, appreciative of their concern but disheartened as they show slight disapproval. “Plenty of us have already been scorned by a child of our mother’s past paramour— we just hope you would not befall the same fate,” Your frown and confusion deepen. “You— you have been with…” you trailed as you gazed into their eyes. “We have. What? You thought it was only you who retells our mother’s past?” Your brother mused. “It’s called a stereotype for a reason, sister. It is as if we are bound to fall for a son or daughter of the god of war.” 
You blinked as they recalled their relations with Aemond’s siblings. Sitting in disbelief as you had asked him to keep your relations secret because of fear of being judged for succumbing to the same fate as your mother’s, but it would seem as if it were inevitable and somehow well-oriented and circulated as if it were a right of passage for the children of Ares and Aphrodite to fall for each other. 
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The following morning, neither you nor Aemond knew what to do. Both of you were still jealous of the attention each of you was bestowed upon, and both of you were subjected to the opinions of your siblings. It was as if they were giving the two of you reasons not to continue your relations that both of you had longed to be a part of. 
Aemond had a consistent scowl on his face as he trained. Your eyes were no longer on him as he did so. He did not have the desire to train earnestly because, if he was being honest, he did most of his stunts to impress you. 
You had a small fake smile plastered on your face as you conversed with the other girls in camp. Complementing you as they fixed your hair and asked about the little things and rituals you do to be so pretty. You wanted to tell them it was because of your mother, but you did not want to offend or dismiss them. 
A daughter of Hypnos was speaking when your attention was caught by the same daughter of Athena, sauntering to the training ground with a sly smirk on her lips as she approached Aemond. The jealousy in you returned tenfold. Your heart was ablaze with seething anger. Your brows were in a furrow, and you pouted and almost sneered. Aemond had not spoken to you all day, yet he had the gull to stop his training to make chitchat with her? 
You were brought out of your angered thoughts when you noticed Jacaerys approaching you. Telling yourself to keep your expression neutral and not be as obvious as your sisters and brothers had said you were. “Hello, Jace,” You greeted as he approached you, who was perched upon a picnic table. The group of girls who surrounded you turned their gazes on the son of Hephaestus, making his knees weak. 
Aemond turned his attention away from a daughter of Athena as he heard your voice once more. Anger and rage swirled within him as he saw Jacaerys in your presence again. His hold on the hilt of his sword tightened, and his jaw clenched as he saw a smile bloom into your plush lips and a twinkle in your eye as the Son of the God of forge presented you with a gift. 
“It’s so pretty,” A girl beside you muttered as you held the mirror Jacaerys had made for you. “The handle and frame are made of gold… because I remember you saying it suited your complexion. And I added pearls because you said you loved pearls.” Aemond rolled his eyes as he heard and saw Jacaerys stuttering and blushing as he explained his gift to you. “Thank you, Jacaerys… It’s beautiful.” You said gratefully as you stared at yourself in the handheld mirror. Aemond could no longer hold in his frustrations. Dropping his sword to the ground with a loud clank that caught everyone’s attention. You and him finally locked eyes, anger, and jealousy in both. Aemond silently implored you to meet him by the lake once more before turning and walking away.
Aemond returned to the lake and sat on a blanket he had brought there late last night, hoping he would find you there once the moon was high and everyone was asleep; he didn’t. It took a few moments before he heard your delicate footsteps approaching him. You slowly sat beside him, a gap between the two of you that was never there before. “Are you playing me?” Aemond could not help but ask as both of you stared into the lake. You frown deeply at his question. Your hands fiddling with the gift just given. “What?” You ask and watch as Aemond clenches his jaw. “You say you want me but want to keep us a secret. You’re supposed to be with me, yet you happily entertain the wall of admirers who follow you around like lost pups.” 
You look at him dumbfounded, a scoff leaving your lips. “You’re one to talk; you say my presence is the only one you enjoyed and entertained, yet I see you merrily speaking with a daughter of Athena,” You argued. Aemond, filled with anger, was distracted as the words left your lips— jealousy clear in your eyes, and he could not help but feel giddy at the thought of it. Your frown deepened as Aemond’s lips were pursed, turned into a smirk. “You’re jealous,” he mused, his tone of amusement evident. You rolled your eyes and crossed your eyes across your chest. “You’re jealous too,” You say in defense. Feeling your heart skip a beat when Aemond pulled you into his arms. 
You sigh and feel the tension you harbored for the past two days miraculously fade. “I’m sorry if I asked you to keep us a secret… I did not want them to think our relationship was stereotypical… but I suppose there’s no point in keeping it a secret any longer— it’s practically bound to happen.” You say as Aemond rests your back on his chest, his chin resting atop your pretty head. “What do you mean?” Aemond’s chest rumbled behind you as he spoke. “My siblings warned me against you— most of them apparently had been scorned by your siblings,” You explained, feeling Aemond’s hold on your waist tighten. “My sister says I’ve been growing pathetic since I’ve been with you,” He shared, making your heart pit at his words. 
Aemond took in a deep breath at the silence that followed his statement. “Let us ignore what they say,” Aemond then spoke. You looked up at him expectantly. “They do not get to dictate us around… I like you tremendously, and I know you feel the same way about me,” You smile at his confidence and certainty. Moving to intertwine your fingers, his calloused hands against yours, you quite like the juxtaposing feeling of your soft hands against his rough ones. You sighed and kissed the back of his hand, “I’m sorry for growing jealous about you chatting with other girls,” You sighed as you gazed into Aemond’s eye. “Don’t be. I quite like it.” He smiled, making you laugh. You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to apologize for growing jealous. Your smile turned into a confused look, making Aemond shake his head. 
“If you’re waiting for me to apologize for being jealous, then you’ll have to wait an eternity, my pretty,” Aemond stated. “You’re mine, and your pathetic little admirers must know of it.” He grumbled, making you mischievously smirk. “Then let it be known.” You say. Aemond knitted his brows as he gazed into your eyes. You moved closer to him, lips just a breath away. “Show them how I’m completely yours,” you whispered. Aemond pulled you to him and smashed your lips. Wasting no time to sneak his tongue in and taste you. You whimper against his lips as nipped yours. You sighed as he moved to straddle him, your cores familiarly aligned again. “Aemond,” You called as his lips found your neck, leaving marks and doing as you had said— making it known to everyone that you were his. 
You moaned and moved your hips as his hand hurriedly took off your shirt and cupped your breast. His lips still placed marks on your neck and would tease you as they would move slightly downwards but never fully. “Aemond,” You whined as he placed a ghost kiss atop the swell of your bosom. “Hm?” He hummed, pretending not to know what you wanted. “What do you want, pretty girl? Tell me,” He hummed and took a deep breath of your scent. “You— I want all of you,” You said and moved to remove his own shirt as well, Aemond feeling gooseflesh rise to his skin as successfully removed his upper clothing. “Are you certain?” He asked, his hand hovering atop the clasp of your brassiere. “I am,” You answered and bit your lips as he quickly undid your brassiere, exposing your chest to him. Taking a sharp breath and resisted the loud moan to escape your lips as his mouth closed upon the pebbled bud that seeks his touch. 
You moved your hips quicker, wanting to find the same sensation the both of you felt in the ocean, and Aemond groaned against your chest. You feel your breathing shallowed as his rough hands slowly hike up your skirt. Closing your eyes in anticipation, you hear him undo the zipper of his trousers. You gasped as you felt his hands graze your cloth-covered sex. “You’re already so wet for me,” He murmured against your chest and tilted his head to meet your lips again. You ground your lips against his hand, making him smirk. “You really want me, don’t you, pretty girl.” His voice was smug, and it only bolded as you fervently nodded your head. 
You whimpered once more as he pushed your underwear to the side, his fingers finally meeting the slick skin of your cunt. Relishing at the friction his rough and large hands provided. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning Aemond’s name as he relentlessly drew circles on the pearl of your cunt. Gasping in shock as his other finger sought entrance into you. You hear Aemond curse under his breath, his other hand tightening his hold around your waist. You moaned louder as the familiar sensation in your core returned, and Aemond hummed in approval as you tightened around his finger. impatient to replace with his cock. 
“Aemond!” You shrieked as you came undone, him singing you praises as you slowly came down from your high. Watching through lust-filled eyes as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked the essence of you clean. You had barely time to react and relish the scene before you when you felt the tip of Aemond’s shaft seek entrance. Your eyes widened as you sank into his length. Aemond hushes you, and places kisses on your skin to distract you from the pain. “Fuck,” Aemond breathed, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of you. Warm and overly tight around him. 
“It’s too much— Aemond, I—“ Tears welled in your eyes as you were subjected to pain like you’ve never felt before. Aemond wiped away a tear that fell and kissed your lips. Drawing circles upon your cunt once more to ease your pain. “Just a little more,” Aemond groaned as the whole of him was almost inside you. “So fucking tight— all fucking mine, you’ll forever be bound to me,” Aemond muttered against your skin as you let out a whine when you fully sank into his length. Both of your breathing shallow, cautiously moving in search of pleasure. 
You whimpered as his hips moved, and he removed his fingers from your cunt. It was a painful moment of cautious thrusts and your whimpers and whines before you finally felt the pleasure you always tied with Aemond. “Oh… faster, Aemond— I want more, please,” You said as you met your hips with his. Moving up and down on his length,  your nails scratching his back in sheer pleasure. The tears of pain turned into pleasure. Aemond groaned and tilted his head upward to meet your lips, his skin tingling from your touch. His cock twitching, ready for release, but he could not do so until you’ve met your high again first. 
Aemond let out a sound close to a growl as your hands fisted his hair. Surprised, he found the sensation of you pulling the silver locks added to his pleasure. You whimpered as you bounced on Aemond’s length. Your bosom swaying across Aemond’s face, and your cunt painfully tightening around him, ready to come undone once more. “Scream my name when you come— let them hear how you are mine and how I am yours,” You did as told and uttered his name in pleasure as you came— neither of you wary that the sounds that emitted from either of you would catch other’s attention and would put you both in trouble. Aemond buried his head between your bosom and let your skin stifle his groan as he came deep inside you. “All. Fucking. Mine.” He gritted and pulled your face downward to meet his lips. The warm afternoon sun that was quick to set bathed you both in its orange light. 
When it was time for supper, you and Aemond walked into the hall hand in hand. You, with his marks on your neck and a deep blush on your cheeks, and him, with a rare grin on his lips and cocky look in his eye as your admirers looked at him in a jealous rage. You two did not sit with your siblings, instead acquiring a table of your own, ignoring the curious stares of everyone as a son of Ares fell for a daughter of Aphrodite. Stereotypical, yes, but it did not matter because you two coming together was written in history and would always be bound to happen. 
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mysticmunson · 2 years
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annie
prompt: when you get put in charge of babysitting for the day, it's time to play house.
word count: 1.5k
warnings: mentions of parental passings, baby referred to as big/chubby (affectionally of course, i was/am a chubby ass baby)
strongly recommend listening to annie by john denver as you read :)
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Babies seem to always gravitate towards certain people, whether related or not, and while some force it, others come naturally.
Eddie was a reluctant baby man.
Any of his friends' younger siblings immediately latched onto his leg as he walked by, realizing his jeans were not heavy a mere moment ago, looking down to see a smile full of open gaps. 
As much as he tried to grimace, the attention was quite nice on both ends as the small babes usually sunk into a pit of giggles. This happened to be the case when your older sister came to town, leaving you at home to take care of her 8 month old for the day.
The morning was fairly quiet, Pamela sleeping for most of it, occasionally waking up to play with some toys. She wasn’t the clingiest baby, but found comfort in your arms as you swayed her on your hip.
“Who the hell is that?” Eddie asked, having let himself in the door after seeing your care alone in the driveway. Approaching the tiny human with skepticism, you smiled, turning slightly so he could have a better look at her. She stared up at him from your shoulder, arms flapping with a block securely between her fingers.
“This is Pamela, my niece.” You laughed, sitting on the blue couch, crossing your legs up on the plush seats. He hesitantly sat down, like being too close would somehow cause a shift in the balance of the universe. But her gaze was glued to him. 
He let out a chuckle, eyes still wide, “Didn’t she have this baby like two days ago? She’s big, not in a bad way!”
Her chubby little arms extended, dropping her toy with a thud as she leaned closer to Eddie. 
“Oh Christ.” He mumbled as she crawled into his lap, holding one of his fingers with a ring on it, “What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Hold her, she doesn’t bite hard.” You teased, watching his hands tentatively wrap around her onesie clad body to bring closer to his chest. The nervous bounce of his leg made her giggle, an unmistakable smile coming to Eddie’s lips at the noise. 
The scene was too ironic, the whole town had been scared of Eddie his whole life, when the boy can’t even hold a baby without fear. He was kind, gentle, and sweet, but most people weren’t aware. Even your loved ones were hesitant when you began dating around 2 and a half years ago.
“Okay, she’s pretty cute.” He confessed, her small grasp locking his nose as it scrunched, relaxing further into his seat. She started to climb up his chest, reaching for his hair.
“Pammy, no.” You cooed, lifting her back to your arms, but her face dropped. She whimpered and made grabby hands at the man in front of you, his brown iris’ flickering to yours. 
He tentatively held his palms out, where she instantly went back to, and put her on his Iron Maiden tee, face squished against the skull printed on the black fabric. 
The next few hours were spent playing house, a fair mix of napping, eating, and changing, the latter being the only activity Eddie opted out of. There was no denying how much Pamela was latching onto him, even catching him talking to her when you excused yourself to the bathroom. 
The night was winding down, a soft buzz of the tv mixed with the gentle snores nestled on Eddie’s chest. His hand absentmindedly stroked her soft hair as he yawned, shifting to find more comfort as you sat on your bed. 
“If you ever want kids, Eddie, you’ll be a great father.” You whispered as he remained staring down at the little one, a faint blush on his cheeks.
“Do you want kids?” He asked, peering over at you, but you leaned onto his shoulder. If anyone were to come in, it would look as if you were a family, it felt real for a brief moment for him.
You nodded, “Eventually.”
It was quiet once more, a laugh track playing over an episode of The Brady Bunch. Pamela stirred, making a squeaky noise, limbs flexing against him. She started to twist, leading you to pull her between you two, covering her body with the quilt you were already under.
As you both looked down at her, he noticed the features similar to yours. Not an exact match, but you looked close enough to your sister that he could see it in his head, having a family.
“I would name my kid, Annie.” He muttered, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. Your brows furrowed, trying to think of any significance that name had for him, knowing he isn't obsessed with the musical and doesn't know anyone by that name. 
“I don’t have many memories of my mom, a lot of stuff got blocked out, but I remember a few things. She loved John Denver, especially the song Annie, it was his wife's name. But she would sing it to me, spinning me in the kitchen and restarting the record over and over.”
Eddie didn’t talk about his parents a lot, only knowing his dad was arrested when he was 13 and that his mom had passed away when he was 10. When she died, he moved in with Wayne after his dad had a few lashing outs that ended with a bloody nose and a broken arm. He could rant for hours on end about his dad, how shitty he was, how glad he was he was rotting in some jail cell.
But when it came to his mom, he found himself speechless. He remembers her kind eyes, the ones he saw on himself and hated when he got a look at himself angry, thinking of how much she hated seeing him upset. How she would always make cookies, writing notes in his black lunch pail that he now used for more nefarious activities, and her head scarfs that were made of floral fabrics. 
“She used to do this thing where she would grab a wooden spoon and sing it,” He swallowed, staring down at Pamela, but you knew his mind had wandered to his childhood home. “She was such a great singer, I think it’s why I love music so much. But her favorite song was Annie, it even played on the radio in the hospital waiting room when she…”
While his voice trailed off, you saw his eyes gloss over, not reaching a point of tears, but nearing. Your hand grabbed his, lacing it together and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. He looked up at you, smiling before planting a kiss on your lips, careful to not put any pressure beneath him as Pam slept.
He gently hummed the melody of the song forever ingrained in his mind along with the wispy laughs from his mom who patched up his skinned knees and kissed his head goodnight. He was terrified of kids, never wanting to lead another member of the Munson family line down a toxic path.
But when he looked down at someone who even resembles you, he knew he wanted that life mixed with his pandemonium. 
“Come let me love you, let me give my life to you. Let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms. Let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you. Come let me love you, come love me again.” He sang softly, his voice cracking after being so used to singing metal songs loudly.
“We can name ours, Annie.” You whispered as he smirked, propping his head up with his elbow.
He made a false thinking face, stroking his chin, “I don’t know, I’m keeping my options open to the perfect candidate.” 
Punching his shoulder, he jolted and laughed, quieting when he felt the baby turn. He grinned unabashedly, tucking hair behind your ear. 
“I’m kidding, you’re it for me whether you want me around or not.” He hummed, hearing the sound of the garage opening, sitting up. 
“Glad to hear.” You smirked, lifting Pamela to your chest as she lazily opened her bright eyes. “Say goodbye to Uncle Eddie.” 
Somehow the title made his chest flutter, standing to kiss her head before you walked down to your sister. The quiet sounds of whispering came from below as he sat on the edge of your bed, fiddling with his watch on his left wrist. 
While he tried not to think of his mom often, certain things always reminded him of her and he was glad when they did. As badly as he wanted her back, he knew all he had left was those foggy days behind him, littered with negativity from his father. But those orange hued moments of running in the yard during the summer or the blue cozy memories of hot chocolate on winter nights, that’s what he preferred to think about.
He wanted to be the man she wanted him to be, you wanted him to be, hell, who he wanted to be. While having a baby still terrified him, having a baby with you made him feel secure, and he wouldn’t let that go. 
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authors note: hi im pmsing and got very emotional over the thought of eddie being a dad sooooo.
taglist: @steeldaisies @meaganjm @masterofmunson @downbythebay4 @wicked-wordy-witchy-witch @femalefilmaker @wiltedwonderland @yourthebrokengirl @jessyballet @iheartyouyou @gloryekaterina @missscarlettangel @variety-fangirl @wigglywoos59 @imsuchafriggensimp @thegirlblogstuff @lovelyladymayyy @strawwberrry @ktjmac @dovesnrosesnreblogs @fknemily @spn-obession @diaryofthedoll  @imagine-all-the-imagines
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gretavanlace · 10 months
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Debauchery Defined
Jake Kiszka x reader
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, masturbation, dirty talk, dangerous situations, oral sex (m/rec), illegal activity (traffic related), etc. jake in a hat briefly - cause that shit deserves a warning. Probably typos, excessive italics as per usual, blah blah blah
“I’m sorry, sir, I have nothing under the name of Kiszka.”
The bored attendant, slouched upon a stool beneath an Enterprise sign, doesn’t even have the decency to sound mildly apologetic.
The sign is bright. Too bright for the hour. Too bright for the weary, sleep deprived, burn in your eyes. Just too bright.
Judging by the furrow in his brow, despite his ever present sunglasses, Jake shares your contempt for the fluorescent glow.
“I made a reservation days ago.” You reiterate, spelling his last name once more. Turns out, it’s a lesson in futility, as the clerk doesn’t even bother to type it in.
“I told you,” he snaps, fixing you with a glare. You sense he thinks it reeks of authority. It doesn’t. “There’s no rental reservation. Spell the name all night long if you feel like it, but it isn’t going to change anything.”
Jake, in a smooth rush, is leaned in closer - serpentine and quick in his movement. Yet, calculated, careful, eerily calm in that unsettling way he adopts when irritation is trudging toward anger.
His warning comes quietly, but it bears a menacing aura all the same. “Speaking to her that way is ill advised, I can promise you that.”
Your hand finds his arm, stroking soothingly through the worn hopsack of the blazer he layered on, hours ago, before your flight. “Jake, it’s alright.”
Never aggressive just for show, and certainly never overtly so, when Jacob feels someone is crossing a line with you, he is quick to polish his armor - a knight sweeping in to save his damsel in distress.
He relaxes visibly beneath your touch and navigates back to civility with a deep breath.
“Alright…” he flicks a glance at the name tag that rests crookedly on the other man’s shirt “Tyler. So you don’t have the reservation - we need a car. You have cars. Simple. Why is this an issue?”
He’s tired, and cranky…a long day of travel has leeched the patience from his bones.
Tyler, likely used to overwhelmed travelers frequenting the airport kiosk, remains unimpressed. “I have one available vehicle. Luxury class. Reserved for our most discerning clients.”
Jake rolls his eyes, clearly teetering on the edge of asking this asshole if he’d like to taste the back of his hand. “As it happens, I am discerning. How lucky for us. We’ll take it.”
Papers are signed, keys are exchanged, and finally, you’re schlepping through the hall leading to Parking garage B7, as instructed.
“Luxury for discerning clients.” He scoffs, hefting his bag, and yours, over his shoulder, though you continue to insist you can share the load.
His battered guitar case swings against his legs as he stomps along, “What an asshole. S’probably some boat of a Lincoln or something…I’m gonna look like a pimp.”
The wide-brimmed hat cocked low over his shades will be most fitting, then, won’t it?
Laughing at his dramatics - not so different from his twin, after all - you watch the doors whoosh open to reveal a deserted sea of concrete. Deserted that is, save for one lone sports car waiting beneath a flickering light.
You both stop short. “Or a frat boy douchebag.”
“Frat boys can’t afford cars like that.” You correct, nudging him to get moving.
He picks up the pace dutifully, “So, just a douchebag, then?”
“Yes, yes, Jacob…you’re very refined and everybody knows it.” You tease, ever the soft heart for his antiquated flare. “If anyone sees you, we’ll just explain that your horse and buggy are in the shop.”
His eyes rove across the lines of the car as you approach. Slyly sweeping over the glossy, black curves, almost hidden below the mysterious shadow of his hat.
“I’ll drive.” He mutters as if it’s no big deal, startling your feet to a standstill.
Never, not once, in the entirety of all the time you’ve known him has he ever offered to drive. In fact, now that you’re exploring the subject, you don’t think you’ve ever even seen him so much as graze a finger over a steering wheel.
“Do you…” you pause to collect your jumbled thoughts. “Do you even have a driver’s license?”
It seems strange, all at once - that you’ve never wondered about this before.
“What?” He laughs, finally shaking off the annoyance he’s been wearing on his shoulders for a few too many hours.
You wait while he presses a button on the key fob, opening the trunk with a smooth hiss, asking “well, do you?” as he dumps the bags, and his Gibson, inside.
You’ve seen him present identification hundreds of times, but you can’t recall it ever being anything but his passport.
“Purse in the boot or up front with you, darling?” He asks with an exaggerated swagger and flourish.
“Stop avoiding the question, Jacob.” You sigh, folding your arms as he slings your purse over his shoulder, abandoning Oliver, and moving to open the passenger side door for you. “Do you or don’t you?”
He waits until you’ve settled and then bends at the waist, offering a forehead kiss, and a secret. “I don’t. You wanna break a few rules with me, hall monitor?”
You feel your eyes widen as if he’s just confessed to casual murder for sport.
But you tamp it down and take hold of some perspective, this isn’t murder. Still, you don’t like it.
“Jake, don’t drag me into your debauchery. If you want to endanger the lives of hundreds of unsuspecting motorists, you can do it alone.”
In response, he swings the door closed and jogs around the sloping, gleaming hood, slipping into the driver’s seat, gentle and sleek as a sleepy housecat.
“I never said I didn’t know how to drive, baby,” he tosses his hat in the back and shakes out his waves, “just that I failed to revisit the DMV when ‘the man’ said my time was up.”
“This is stupid.” You slide down in your seat, careful not to reveal how much you’re enjoying the supple leather coasting along the backs of your thighs where your shorts have ridden up.
The opulence is an undeniable high. One you wouldn’t have expected, but there all the same.
He grins to himself, face lit up, beautiful and bright, like a little boy in a toy store. “Debauchery,” his voice is smooth as whipping cream. Smoky. Lazy. Like he plays behind the wheel of a flashy Porsche every day. “Immoral behavior that involves sex, drugs, alcohol, etcetera.”
“What?” You’ve begun to relax already. He is skillfully maneuvering the vehicle through the twists and turns of the garage. Okay, so maybe he does know how to drive.
“Debauchery. That’s what it means. It isn’t this.” He waves a hand, absently calling attention to the car. “But don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, my love. I’ll have you dragged down into the thick of it soon enough.”
Leaning back against the headrest, you decide to give into his whim and enjoy the ride. It’s lovely to be able to strip off the stress of the day and let him take over the department of transportation, for once.
As you study him, with the hum of the road and the purring engine serving as white noise, you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips.
“Jacob Kiszka,” you allow your grin to widen as it will, “I never would’ve guessed you’d be such a guy.”
He grabs for your hand, pleased that - as luck would have it - he has been blessed behind the wheel of an automatic…the absence of a gear shift leaves him open to holding onto you, and you are his favorite thing to hold.
“What are you on about?” Oliver pops in to say hello again, as is habit when Jake feels a bit too on the spot.
“Never once have you wanted to drive,” you remind him, lacing your fingers through his. “No matter how many times I tease you for being a passenger princess. Wave one fast car with a pretty paint job under your nose and you’re swimming in testosterone.”
A soft laugh is his only response as he coaxes out onto the freeway.
“You look good behind the wheel, baby. You know that?” Your free hand toys with a lock of his hair, smoothing it and twirling it around your pinky.
“I look good, always.” he sighs, feigning boredom as he weaves in and out of traffic to find his desired lane.
The further away from the hub of the city you drive, the more traffic begins to dissipate, until you seem to be adrift along some dystopian highway time has forgotten.
“How long?” You ask softly.
Staring out the window at the scenery whipping by sounds lulling, you might even fall asleep to it, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, and this calm, capable, skill set you never knew he possessed.
How like him to keep you on your toes, sharing bits and pieces of himself little by little. Doling out tiny Jacob Thomas shaped morsels only when he sees fit.
“Who cares how long?” He glances up at nothing in the rear view mirror. “This is nice.”
“It is.” You agree. Allowing the silence to wrap up warmly around you both again.
You watch him. And you watch him. And you watch him some more.
And you’d help it, if you could. Honest. The timing is most inappropriate. Not to mention, likely a little dangerous, but something about watching him command all that power beneath his hands has you weak. Submissive. Needy.
In moments of weakness in the dark, you’ve confessed that you feel the same watching him play. The way he makes love to his well worn and loved guitar. The way he coaxes sex soaked wails and whines from the strings, working his fingers faster and faster along the frets until the climax crashes apart, exploding into sound where there once was quiet.
The way he talks to her, the way he loves her. The way he knows her body just a little better than he knows yours, or even his own. It all makes you a bit jealous in the most decadent way. It makes you eager to showcase your worth as well, to sink to your knees in service to this god walking around amongst men.
He holds a brand new power and you want to slink into his lap and mewl like a kitten starved for attention. Instead, you settle for moving in closer, brushing a feathery kiss against his neck, nuzzling into the crook of it, unabashedly brazen with your want.
“Hello, my love.” His eyes never stray from the road, but his hand wanders your thigh, welcoming you. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m wet.” It’s a simple admission, but the way you hush it in his ear causes his cock to stir. It takes so little from you to pluck at his edges until he’s unraveling at the seams.
“Why’s that?” He adjusts in his seat, spreading his thighs just enough to make your head spin. “All I’m doing is driving a car. Is that all it takes?”
“Sometimes.” You sound pouty. It’s hardly there at all, but he hears it and he loves it. His spoiled rotten sweetheart.
“Well, I’m a little busy, love.” He slides his hand higher, silently wishing you had chosen a skirt today. “But you go on and be sweet to that pretty pink place I love so well. I miss your pussy, baby…it’s been such a long day. Miss the way you feel, the way you smell, the way you taste. I want you all over my face, fuck. Touch yourself.”
“Right here in the car?” You suck his earlobe into your mouth and the nibble over it as if he is an indulgent treat, because he is.
“Yeah.” He nods, grip tightening around the steering wheel, “Right here in the car.”
Maybe some other time you might toy with him a bit, dangle the string just out of his reach, but you’re further off track than he is at this point, so you shimmy out of your shorts and slide out of your sandals to rest your toes on the dash. Your knees fall apart as your fingers disappear into your panties with the tiniest moan when your fingers brush over your clit.
“Aren’t you such a good girl?” He pats at your thigh in praise, burying his grip into the soft, warm flesh there. Filthy, fucking dirty little thing, touching her pretty, wet cunt in a car we don’t even own just because I asked. So good, baby. Who’s my well behaved, darling girl?”
Sometimes you think his need to praise you rivals your own deep-rooted lust for receiving it.
“I’m your good girl.” You breathe, writhing slowly in your seat, drawing in the scent of sex and Italian leather, laced with the faintest hint of his cologne. It has faded with the hours, handing the spiced teakwood over to something a little more Jake…this is when you love it best.
“Then be my good girl and come over here. Come see me, sweetheart.” He extends an arm, casually inviting you in. You know what he wants, and you plan to give it to him.
For a moment, you're both illuminated in the golden glow of headlights traveling along across the median…he looks like the slickest snake masquerading as an angel. A serpent in the garden, ever tempting and cunning.
It’s all a front, as you well know. A role he plays when he wants to make you quake with desire. His heart is soft and kind, ever mindful of others, ever stuffed full of unending empathy and thoughtful love.
Unbuckling your seatbelt with a click that makes him frown, you slide over to the very edge and toy with the clasp of his belt, panting hot little puffs of breath against his flushed cheek, if only to stir him up further.
“You want that?” He lifts into your touch so you can feel how hard he is, all for you.
“Yeah,” tiny pecks of your lips chart his jawline. “Yeah, I want that.”
“Say it.” His fingers are in your hair now, curling into a loose fist near the nape of your neck, pushing you down. “Say you want my cock. Say where you want it.”
You’re hurrying now, tenderly fumbling with the buckle, hungry and desperate for it. “I want your cock, Jake. Want it in my mouth…in my throat.”
“Fuck…” it growls out of him strangled and tangled up with hot, salacious, greed. “C’mon, baby.”
You long to preen with pride; he wants it so badly, so suddenly - but there are more pressing matters at hand.
Both hands on the wheel now, he watches as you sink down around him, swallowing him so deeply, and with no real warm up, that you gag, sucking him down further anyway as you retch and sputter around his length, throat both fighting the intrusion and pining for more of it.
“Slow down.” His warning grits out through his teeth. He didn’t want to say it at all, slow is the last thing he wants. He wants to float off into it, stare focused and sure on the road, thoughts lost in the way you sound fighting around his cock, sucking and lapping over him, dying for just a little more, just another taste….
You shake your head adamantly, sending your soft, wet tongue slicking back and forth just along the base, nearly nudging at his balls as they tighten up for you. Every reaction his body hands over is all for you. Always for you.
“Fuck, baby,” his right hand drops to pet at your glossy hair as he fucks up into your kiss. “Gonna make me cum in that pretty little mouth. Feels so fuckin’ good. You want it?”
Nodding urgently, you bury your nose into the soft path of hair that trails below his belly button, choking until your throat is squeezed around him, strangling the thick head of his throbbing cock.
He’s twitching against your lips now, straining and pulsing, fucking throbbing. Obscene and depraved. Perfect.
“M’close, baby,” he’s murmuring raspy, stuttering, pleas as his grip tightens until your scalp stings blissfully. “Keep going, just like that, so close…baby, baby, baby, fuck…”
He’s whining and babbling, broken curses and hissing encouragement that barely makes sense. You couldn’t love it more.
Hollowing your cheeks, you suck hard on the updrawn and then relax your throat, plunging him straight to the back of it in one harsh go with a guttural sound that makes his thighs jerk.
You feel the slight hitch in the gas as he loses his footing on the pedal, and soothe him with a palm swept under his shirt until you can feel his heart hammering against your palm.
He regains focus - you can feel it - and then whispers a soft, “Thank you, sweet girl.” Grateful that your wits have prevailed when his own were waning.
You linger at the base, licking at what you can with his heavy weight cradled in your tongues embrace. He flexes violently, and you brace for it, gluttonous for the warmth of his release, and with a groan and gasp of your name, he doesn’t disappoint.
“Gonna cum, baby,” oh, he sounds so pretty. Trotting out the tiny whimpers that are saved for when he’s really lost in it. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, dontstopdontstopdontstop, fuck fuck fuck—“
Your taste buds dance with him, alive with the delicacy that is Jacob. So warm and perfect, covering your tongue, rolling down your throat, until you can feel him inside you, really inside you, in the way you love most.
He’s a mess above you, but you carry on until he is whining with overstimulation and begging you to stop, lightly pulling you away until you can just barely lap over his glistening tip as he softens against his splayed open pants.
You know he’s thinking of all the ways he plans to return the favor when he can properly get his hands on you, but as he catches his breath beside you and steals glances at you tucking his beautiful cock away, you feel completely, totally, blissfully, satisfied.
Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @gretasmokerising @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn @demolitiondann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @hugorobinson
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
Note
i would love to see a gn/transmasc/catboy version of that post please 👀👀👀
Ghost & König’s Reaction to You Being a Cat Boy
Warnings: Implied Smut/Sexual Content, Scary Dog Privilege, Pet Names, Sadism, Masochism, Scratching, Mention of Objectification (Consensual), Collar Mentioned, Male Reader.
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Ghost
Absolute menace.
The first time he found out, he was shocked, to say the least, given how you managed to hide your ears and tail so well.
But he adjusts fairly quickly.
Sometimes, to get your attention or to get you to come to him when he can’t find you at home, he’ll shake your favourite box of cereal or call “Pspspspspsps–” until you come clamouring round the corner for your food.
He’s always twitching to touch your ears. Just finds them so cute and soft, and while he would never touch them without your permission, he’s dying to.
Sometimes you tease him and bonk your head against his side, give a tiny, fragile purr, and disappear into the midnight corners of the house.
But, when you can see Simon’s had a difficult day, you’ll lay in his lap and let him stroke your head, snuggling into him.
Though it’s not that you don’t like having your ears stroked; you just know that, if you were to let Simon do it, you’d never let him stop.
You’re always really warm and purr a lot, so Simon calls you his “Little engine”.
“‘Cause I’m driving my love van into your heart :3 !” – You say, absolutely oblivious to the cuteness overload you’ve just subjected him to.
Whenever you intentionally (or unintentionally) act cute, it sends Simon feral.
He definitely has a thing for pulling on your tail and making you cry.
Sadist to the max.
“Don’t mewl like that, Sweetheart,” he tells you, your tail in one hand and the lead to your collar in the other.
“Or I might just have to make you cry louder.”
Has a collar with a pendant engraved with the words ‘Property of Simon Riley’ made for you. But he only uses this on a few occasions.
He’d never make you wear it if you didn’t want to; he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s forcing you into a demeaning position.
His names for you vary, but the ones he uses in private are usually cat-related.
Kitty, Kitten (he uses this one unironically – he’s not chronically online so he doesn’t understand the implications), Kitty Boy.
He loves you soooo much, it hurts.
Scary dog privileges for the cat boy he bagged by being quiet and mysterious (unable to talk to you because he thought you were the most beautiful man he’d ever seen).
He genuinely cannot believe his luck; he thinks you must be some artefact sent from the heavens to compensate for the trainwreck his life has been up until he met you.
He’s never felt more alive than when he’s with you.
And he’ll break the minds, bodies and spirits of anyone who tries to take you away from him <3.
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König
Has a tendency to talk to you like how any owner talks to their pets.
“Does my pretty little Prince want his dinner now ? Oh yes he does, oh yes he does !”
He doesn’t mean to, honestly.
But ever since he found out you were a cat boy, he just can’t help himself.
It’s second nature to him.
He also tends to treat you as if you’re much more fragile than you actually are, but that’s because he’s never seen you defend yourself (because you don’t have to. König’s immense size and stature has effectively made you the social equivalent of Chernobyl, in that everyone remains outside a fifty-metre radius of you when you’re with him).
If you sit in his lap, he’ll actually die.
And if you start purring–
He’s GONE.
The sound is enough to not only fry his brain, but send him to sleep.
Hence he cannot sleep without you. Which makes his deployment exceedingly difficult for him.
He looks for any and all excuses to pet you.
He’ll straight-up ask you if you want him to scratch behind your ears, and he’ll keep going until you start to feel raw and ask him to stop.
He loves you so much – he can’t bear to be without you for any period of time.
Which, given how you can be rather solitary in nature, leads you to seek out the most inopportune places to catch up on some sleep.
He’s found you curled up in the wash basket before now.
And on top of a bookshelf.
And rather than be offended, he was overwhelmed by how adorable you were, curled up into a ball of almost nothing.
Yes, he did take pictures. Yes, he does keep them under his pillow so he can look at them when you’re asleep or away.
When it comes to the saucy stuff, König tends to hold back. A lot.
He’s absolutely massive and he doesn’t want to hurt you, especially since there’s more of a risk of him doing so by standing on your tail or catching your ears.
But whatever fear he possesses vanishes when you show him how flexible you are. Which has led to some…interesting positions, to say the least.
Btw, he’s a massive masochist. Just a sucker for pain.
Definitely the type to intentionally push you over the edge so you’ll scratch his back.
You have much sharper nails than the average person, which means it’s easier for you to cut deeper without applying much force.
And König loves it.
He has a high pain tolerance so he can withstand the burning sensation of you dragging your nails down his back and get lost in the fact that you’re marking him as yours.
During moments like this, he calls you ‘Kitty’ more than your actual name.
Outside of the bedroom, it’s literally impossible for him to call you anything other than “(Y/N)-Baby, where’s my little (Y/N)-Pie ?”
And you always come running because you know there’s a big cuddle attached to the end of that pet name <3.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
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freywrites1928 · 1 year
Text
Forbidden
Aizawa x Student Fanfic || (student is 18)
TW: student teacher relationship, smut
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Part One:
“Oh, yes! Right there!” I moan out as his tongue sweeps expertly over my sensitive clit.
“You like that, huh?” His deep voice whispers over my core. “You’re so wet for me, and just from a few licks. What a little slut.”
With that, he brings up his hand, looks me in the eye with a dark expression, and inserts two long fingers as he continues his work on my clit.
“Mmh, fuck…” I hum as I keep my eyes on the gorgeous man between my legs.
“Yeah, that’s right. Keep your eyes on me, I want to see your face as you come undone from just my fingers and tongue.”
He begins to pump his fingers faster, in and out, in and out, curling them slightly so they brush against my g-spot with every pass. He keeps his eye contact as he brings his thumb up to aid in his assault of my clit.
“Oh, yes. Yes! I’m so close!” I manage out as I try to maintain our eye contact.
“Yes, that’s a good girl. Cum for me darling. Cum all over my fingers and tongue like the good little slut you are.”
“Yes. I’ll cum for you, please don’t stop! Right there! Yes. Yes!”
“OW!” I’m suddenly jolted awake as I feel a slight sting on my forehead. “Did you just flick me?” I look over to see the purple haired menace grinning back at me.
“Well yeah, I had to. I tried calling your name a few times, but you wouldn’t wake up. We’re almost there.” Shinsou points out the window.
I look over him, and sure enough, our bus is driving down the dirt road that took us to the annual camping grounds. Man, I really don’t feel like enduring this camp for a whole week. And boy, am I pissed right now at Toshi and his shit ass grin for waking me up from such a beautiful dream,
“Ouch!” He yelps as I suddenly flick him right back on his forehead. “Jeesh, would you rather I have let you continue moaning like that for the entire bus to hear?”
“Yes, actually I would. You couldn’t have just waited 3 more seconds?” I try to angerly whisper yell at him, but it came out as more of a laugh. His grin spread again and soon we’re both laughing like school children. With an over dramatic sigh, I lean over to rest my head onto the shoulder of my best friend. We are silent for a few moments, looking out the window.
“So, was it me in the dream? Because you know, I could sneak into your tent one of the… Ouch!” He yelps as I once again flick him on his forehead. “If you continue to do that, you’ll leave a mark!”
“Good, you deserve it.” I state as I lean back onto his shoulder. Strong, muscular but not too bulky. I look at my friend. He’s handsome, well built, and we get alone great (which I can’t say about most people I interact with.) And not to mention, we can relate to each other’s struggles that come with the burden of having mind based quirks. All this put together, and it was only natural that we sought out a relationship that was more than just basic friendship. Though, we both agreed from our first time together that it would only be friends with benefits and nothing more.
At first, I was skeptical because anytime you hear about a friends with benefits situation, it always turns messy. Not with us though. I find it almost strange, our friendship has remained the same and neither of us have caught romantic feelings or have gotten jealous or anything. We are truly just best friends who help each other out when we get horny or need physical comfort. Or at least, we were that way.  
After our last hook up, about a month ago now, I told Toshi it was the last time. Of course he rolled his eyes, because I always say that when I get crush on someone. The way I figure it, even if we aren’t bothered by that sort of thing, most other people aren’t going to go for a girl who’s sleeping with someone else. Usually, the crush I have goes no where since I don’t ever actually talk to the person I’m crushing on, so it fades, and I’m right back to Toshi’s bed.
Not this time though. It’s been a month, and I’m still firm on my resolve, because this crush is definitely not going anywhere anytime soon. I can tell Toshi’s getting a bit frustrated. He acts calm and cool all the time, but he’s really just an awkward dope who also has trouble connecting with other people. As a result of that, he doesn’t know how to approach people in a ‘seducing’ type of way so now he’s bordering on sexually frustrated. Since I’m not there to help him out, he doesn’t know what to do. I find it funny. Him, not so much.
My head is still resting on the purple haired boy’s shoulder, as the bus continues to rumble along the road, passing by the beautiful forest scenery. I look into his eyes a moment, since that’s all the time I need to activate my quirk.
I immediately regret it.
“Oh my god!” Why are you thinking about that at such a peaceful moment!” I whisper yell as I pull out of Toshi’s mind. “I was sitting here reflecting on our wonderful friendship, and you’re over here thinking about the time you tied me up with your binding cloth! You pervert!” I shove his shoulder to emphasize my disgust.
“Hey now!” Toshi retorts. “You were the one having a sex dream and moaning right next to my ear just minutes ago. What do you expect! I am a guy after all.” He tries his best to look innocent but his mischievous eyes and slowly emerging grin ruins it. “And besides, I’m not convinced your dream wasn’t about me, so I’m not doing anything wrong.”
I roll my eyes at him. “You’re so full of yourself.” I say as a lightly punch him in the shoulder, earning me a real smile from him in return. “But, you should know, it really wasn’t about you.”
“Oh yeah Mia, then who was it about this time?” Toshi grins and raises his eyebrow at me, but the smirk I give him wipes his face blank. “Nope, never mind. I do not want to know.” He looks back out the window.
“Oh, but you were so eager to find out a second ago Toshi!” I taunt as I lean over and whisper in his ear. Just then the bus comes to a halt as we’ve finally arrived at the campground.
“No, I wasn’t that curious. You can keep it to yourself.” He nervously states trying to avoid looking at me.
The door of the bus opens and we see someone walk on to address the students.
“Calm down now.” A deep, tired sounding voice sounds through the bus. “Gather all your things. Everyone from all classes are going to meet in front of the main operations building.”
Toshi is still not looking at me as I lean over and whisper in his ear yet again. “You mean you don’t want me to tell you that person in my dream, the one that made me moan so hard even while sleeping…” Toshi finally looks over at me in what can only be described as agonizing despair and slight disgust. I look up towards the front of the bus, and Toshi follows my gaze, and we see him staring at us both. “…was your favorite mentor…” Toshi shakes his head trying to make the image that is no doubt forming go away as I proceed to smirk at the rough, dark haired man at the front of the bus. “…Aizawa sensei.” 
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lowkeyremi · 2 months
Note
HI! I just wanna say your fics make me happy and I really enjoy reading them!! But what I’m requesting is a Yuji x reader where a short reader becomes self conscious after finding out he said he likes tall girls, she doesn’t bring it up immediately but he can tell something is wrong. (This is kind of stupid but I thought it was cute lmao) i imagine it would be a kind of angst to comfort type of thing :) I would prefer a female reader but anything is fine! 💗
YOUR TYPE yuji itadori x (short) fem!reader
Remi's note: It's not stupid, hon! I'm 5'3" lololol so I can relate in a way :3 Yuji does not know what he's missing out on !!
content: fluff, reader is a little bit insecure, i kinda followed the timeline but it's no where near canon lol
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When you transferred to Jujutsu High a certain pink haired student immediately caught your attention. In fact, you believe that his presence demands everyone's attention because of how much of a sunshine boy he is. He's tall, cute, kind, and a little bit naive.
Essentially he's most of what you look for in a guy but you aren't too sure you're what he looks for in a girl. Not after hearing him discuss his type with Todo. "I like a girl who's tall with a big butt, like Jennifer Lawrence!" And while you had the whole big butt thing down (sorry if you don't i'm self indulging here sigh), you don't have the height he mentions.
At first you were okay that.. you can still be his type right? You don't have to be tall. You brought the subject up with Megumi and Nobara one day while the three of you were eating lunch, Yuji was away on a mission. "Do you guys think I might still have a chance with Yuji? I know I'm not tall but..." you trail on trying to think of something to say.
Megumi wants no part in this conversation but gives you his honest answer anyway, "Eh, probably not. You two never really talk to each other. He's honestly kinda awkward around you." A frown breaches your beautiful face and you begin to pick at your food. Nobara thinks differently of the situation.
"Ah, don't listen to dumb old Fushiguro. He doesn't have a girlfriend so he can't give anyone advice. I think you two would look super cute together! If you just talk to him I'm sure you could figure out what's on his mind." Nobara's advice sounds more charming but you also take Megumi's into consideration. Truth be told, you and Yuji don't talk much and he's always nervously laughing around you.
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Yuji eventually returns from his mission exhausted. He still comes by to greet everyone though which makes you smile. "Um.. Itadori?" He pauses in his steps to turn around and give you his attention with a weary smile. "Mhm?"
"Do you think I could uh- talk to you sometime tomorrow? Just the two of us?" You gaze at anything in the common room besides him. A sudden wave of nervousness rolls through your gut.
"Um. Yeah, of course! I'm going to head to bed now, goodnight everyone!!" Yuji scurries out of the common room. Was that good? Was it bad? You couldn't get a clear read on him and now you're panicking.
You're able to remain calm though because Panda and Inumaki give you a thumbs up. Nobara smiles at you and whispers, "you got this girl!"
As you were preparing for bed, you had a sudden hope that a black hole would just come and swallow you up before dawn peaks. Worry clouded your ability to rest properly so the night consisted of a lot of tossing and turning. When the sun had barely even peaked through the window you decided to start your day.
Your phone reads 6:53 am. Usually you'd begin your day at around 7:30 but sleep was not an option. Usually rejection didn't phase you much, but you were no longer in a huge school where you could likely avoid a guy who rejected you. Jujutsu High has a total of ten students including you. It would be hard to hide yourself from Yuji after facing rejection.
Once you were properly dressed and had clean teeth you left your dorm room to sit outside and admire the sunrise. You weren't sure how long you had been sitting out there but quiet footsteps gather your attention. The one boy who you were not ready to face yet was standing right behind you, his signature smile gracing his face.
"Mind if I join you for whatever you wanna talk to me about?" You want to tell him no or that you aren't ready yet but you inhale slowly and exhale deeply to rid those negative thoughts from your brain.
You pat the ground next to you motioning for him to join you, "Yeah, be my guest."
He sits down next to you and you sit there trying to think of what you'll say. The silence is awkward and the tension is definitely high. "So I hear you like tall girls." Terrible start. If he rejects you, you won't be surprised.
"Heh, yeah.." You meet those chocolate eyes of his. They hold confusion and the urge to know what you are trying to say.
"Do you.." Pause. How should you go about this? "Do you think that even though I'm not tall I'd still have a chance?" Silence follows your question as Yuji soaks in what you've just said.
You. Like. Him? He's surprised to say the least. Yuji had thought it was the other way around, he didn't believe he had a chance with someone like you. Sure you aren't his usual type but he's fallen for your beauty and your personality all the same.
The silence creates a tight feeling in your chest. He must be trying to find a way to let you down gently right?
"I mean it's totally okay if you don't! I just.. never mind. I think I'll go now." He grabs your wrist before you can try to leave and you look into his eyes wondering what he's thinking.
"You do! Sure you're not that tall but you're cute and funny. I thought I didn't have a chance with you. Oh my gosh a girl just asked me out!!" Relief pours over you almost instantly. So you've been overthinking things.
"You've liked me? For how long?!" He shrugs trying to remember.
"Oh yeah! When Sensei sent you, me, and Fushiguro on a mission together. You were so badass when you exorcised that curse. I was thinking 'damn she's hot as hell'!!!"
A giggle escapes your throat at Yuji's dramatics. He's so sweet and confident and knows what he wants. The fact that he wants you makes your heart swell.
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written-in-flowers · 1 year
Note
I love your writing so so so much. Do you think you could write something with aegon x reader x aemond where she’s married to someone else but it’s kinda an open secret she’s in love with her brothers (her children are definitely theirs)
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Open secrets are a funny thing. A secret is usually something that is kept between people; it's never spoken outside of those people or brought into the light. Openness implies things are out there and free to talk about. An open secret is an oxymoron in a way. People know about it as public knowledge, yet nobody acknowledges it out loud.
Such as your relationship with your older brothers.
When you turned sixteen, your parents betrothed and married you to Jacaerys Velaryon. Being married to your nephew on your sister’s side meant both houses maintained a good alliance. Jace was kind to you. He never raised his voice or hand to you; he treated you well, and cared for you as a husband should. Yet, you found it hard to truly love him the way people hoped. You both were more than aware of your families dislike of one another; that the marriage was really to put on this united front that both houses did not have. Your mother tried dissolving it before it came to pass, but your father repeatedly talked her down. It disappointed you for the most part. For most of your childhood, you’d hoped you might marry one of your older brothers, Aegon or Aemond. You often pictured yourself standing before a Septon, exchanging vows with one of them, sometimes both if you’re deep in your fantasies. When Aegon married Helaena, you’d set your hopes upon Aemond, only to be told you’d marry Jacaerys instead. 
You adored and loved your brothers, even as children. Aemond often comforted you when you cried, holding you after a terrible nightmare or when your mother scolded you too harshly. He’d hold you close, stroking your hair and whispering soothing words. His warmth and soft voice usually lulled you to sleep easily after that. Aegon liked cheering you up instead of seeing your tears. He’d tell you funny stories from Flea Bottom or show you a trick he’d learned from a street performer or play a drinking game with you. You treat them the same in return. You listen to Aemond’s angry venting, calming him down with gentle touches and reassurances. When Aegon is particularly drunk, he’ll sometimes slump into a bad mood which only your presence brings him out of smoothly. You supposed after seeing your father disregard you and your siblings too often, seeing your mother bed him to show sympathy or concern, you grew closer to your family. Even with Helaena, you found a secret passion, though you knew her heart and desires rested on Lady Alyssa Stokeworth, her lady-in-waiting. 
The night before your wedding, you danced with Jace only once. The rest of the night, you danced, drank, and ate with Aemond, Aegon and Helaena. Helaena eventually retired to be with Lady Alyssa, while you remained behind with your brothers. Your mind swimming from the wine, you realized you never saw your brothers as your “brothers”. Yes, you shared the same blood and the same name. You came out of the same woman, and lived in the same castle. Yet, you never grew up seeing them as such. They were boys you were related to, but it was never really brought up. That night, seeing them in the glow of candles and immersed in the frivolity around you, you realized they were no longer the boys you watched in the training yard, but men. Aegon, with his short hair and square jawline and Aemond with his sharp features and tall height, you couldn’t ignore their handsomeness. 
You giggled as you led both your brothers from the hall. It reminded you of the kissing games you’d play with them in your youth. In the privacy of your bed chambers, you deeply kissed both Aegon and Aemond. Their lips brought on a new sensation that excited you. Soon, your bodies came together in heated passion. You recall whispering to them as they undressed you in between them. 
“Take it. Don’t let him have it. I want both of you to do it.”
They did. It’d been Aemond who broke your maidenhead first, but you liked believing they’d both taken it in a way. You spent the night kissing, fondling, sucking and licking one another. You remember the absolute ecstasy running through your veins as Aegon lapped at your overstimulated clitoris and the blinding bliss of Aemond’s thick shaft pumping in and out of you slowly. You still don’t know how many times they brought you to orgasm, or how many times they did in return, but you know it ended with their seed dripping from your sex. You hoped their seed might take root inside you, giving you a true Targaryen baby, and not one tainted by the “Strongs”. 
You continued coupling with your brothers even after your marriage to Jace. Sometimes you’d have one alone: Aegon in a stairwell or Aemond in the library. But, you preferred them together. Nothing else quite beat the feeling of both of them inside you at once, taking different paces and strokes that drove you wild. It aroused you more when you laid back to watch them kiss and fondle one another in front of you. You’d originally thought they did it for your entertainment, but that was before you caught them naked in a brothel Aegon frequented. 
It remained a secret, but secrets don’t do well in The Red Keep and soon the whispers started. You noticed people watching you more closely; giving you strange looks when they thought you hadn’t seen them. The worst came from your mother, who told you it is a disgrace and an insult to your husband. You innocently claimed you had no idea what she was talking about, as you’d done your duty as a wife and laid with Jace. Yet, you also laid with your brothers. When you became pregnant, you tried passing it off as Jace’s child, since you tried bedding him on the days you’d been with Aemond or Aegon. People believed it, but only for a short while. 
Baby Maelora Targaryen had the silver-hair and purple eyes of her Valyrian ancestors. Being Targaryen yourself, you managed to put about that she had strong Valyrian genes. Jacaerys believed this to be true, and embraced Maelora as his own. Detractors noted that Maelora also had the nose and jawline of her Uncle Aemond. Aemond still enjoys bragging that your firstborn is his child, and not Aegon’s.
Aegon, however, likes to boast that he gave you two babies for the effort of one; he sometimes noted he’d given you boys as well. Vaeron and Jaeron came into the world crying and screaming nine months after the Tourney at Highgarden, which only Aegon and you attended out of the three. He can only lay claim to them because both boys have his eyes, nose, and ears. Later on, they’d grow to have his curly, wavy silver locks as well. It was another feature people started noticing. Even Jace could not deny the likeness, though still said nothing. 
It was people in Jace’s family who noted it the most. Baela Targaryen often said how strange it was that none of Jace’s three children looked anything like him. Rhaenys Velaryon said once she found it sweet how much time the Targaryen siblings spent together even in adulthood. Rhaenyra, his mother and your half-sister, was the only one who never spoke out. She was in no place to accuse because she’d been accused of the same thing when Jace, Luke, and Joffery were born. You replied to these rumors with passive comments, never insulting or outright denying them, but acknowledging them anyways. Your father once again showed everyone his willing blindness when presented with each babe. He proclaimed they had strong genes, and would be great knights and ladies when they grew up. 
So, the secret was now open. This gave you a little more courage than you should’ve had. You spent more time in your brothers’ company, not always making love, but usually talking or relaxing in each other’s company. When they did bed you, they sometimes fought over who got to breed you. The thought of fathering more children on you aroused them both, giving them the feeling they have something over Jace once more. The talk did eventually die down…
But then you became pregnant a third time. You’d grown worried that your brothers gave you another child, and the rumor storm will be immense this time around. Throughout your pregnancy, people speculated about the father. You heard a particularly nasty rumor that lords were placing bets on who was the father: Jacaerys, Aegon, Aemond, or some unnamed man nobody knew about. It was endless. You tried finding comfort in the time Jace and you laid together, both of you drunk, lonely and horny. Yet, you knew around that time, Aemond and you shared a night together before he went off to Storm’s End to secure a marriage pact. Only the Gods knew until the day came that you gave birth to a healthy baby boy. 
A baby boy with thick brown hair and violet eyes. Rhaelor delighted everyone in House Velaryon, and quieted anyone who spoke out against you. The idea was further ingrained when the children started growing, and Rhaelor maintained the same features as Jacaerys. Still, your brothers spoke about their disappointment about Rhaelor, yet loved him as much as your other children because they were an extension of you.
Aemond said Rhaelor was their little blessing. Aegon said he didn’t know Jace had it in him. 
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lyramundana · 10 months
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I BASICALLY LOVE MINSUNG X F!READER CAN YOU SAY YOUR HEADCANONS ABOUT IT? I'm so sub for them I swear the god
I can feel your enthusiasm through the comment and I totally relate to it, I'm really a sub for these greek gods too!!
Now I have various headcanons with my oc, Vivi or Violeta, but since you mentioned fem!reader, I'll go with that.
POLY MINSUNG X FEM! READER HEADCANONS
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-They're both switches, but Minho tends to take the lead and leans towards dominance more. However, Jisung can be pretty intense too and they can have this battle of pride where they try to manhandle the other into submission. It's fucking hot when it happens because you can't tell which of them is doming here.
-Since Jisung is the younger in the relationship (for a while), he's usually the one being take care of and he LOVES it. Minho, on the other hand, enjoys pampering his jagiya and protect him. The roles outside the bedroom remain the same usually. Minho is the caretaker, with ocasional soft moments when he needs pampering too, and Jisung the babyboy that needs constant affection.
-When you come into their lives, their routine crashes and their entire world perception is turned upside down.
-You meet Jisung first, both of you becoming friends quickly, and you kinda befriend Minho too by association. At first you two only hang out when Jisung is involved and aren't really close, but as time passes and he sees how comfortable his boyfriend is with you, he starts to warm up to you. In return, you see how happy he makes Jisung and the great partner he is, so she start to apreciate him more.
-What started as a friendship with Jisung and a mutual respect with Minho becomes a besties trio. You're younger than them, so they try to look after you out of instinct, but since you're not korean you don't really see the point of this idea of treating people differently by their age.
-More often than not you have arguments because you feel they see you like a kid sometimes and you remind them that you're a fully independent human and you don't need to be treated like a damsel in distress. Jisung is a lot more open minded about it and understands your point of view, but Minho is more conservative and stubborn, so you two argue the most. As your bond progresses, you learnt to let them take care of you sometimes and be vulnerable with them, while they accept to treat you like an equal instead of a "dongsaeng".
-Following this, there are times you decide to take care of them instead and babying them in return, partially for teasing but also because you like it. They're so cute and soft and fluffy when you're alone, you just want to squeeze them in your arms. You reprimand them like they're your children when they do something that bothers you, you bring them clothes and make-up, you fix their hair and clothes when they look messy, you call them stuff like "good boys" "my babies", "my darlings" (the last one is always in a playful tone).
-The position of dominant one in the relationship it's yours now because Minho has found out he loves to be babied and spoiled too, so when you're around he lets you on charge often. In private, they just want to snuggle with you and have you massage their scalps, call them sweet names and cover them in love. Jisung lets out hums of contentment and Minho straight up purrs, curling into a ball against you. At first he fights is off because it hurts his pride as man and the oldest, but it feels way too good.
-Suddenly they bring you to their dates. You become a part of every activity they usually engage in together. You feel weird at first thinking you're intruding in couple activities, but they reassure you constantly that they enjoy your company.
-They're obsessed with hearing you speak in your native language. Even if they don't understand anything, the way your voice shifts and how beautiful you sound makes their brain go brrrr. If used right, you can use this to lull them to sleep.
-From outside, it looks like the typical girl with her gay besties (and you think that's the reality), but some of their acts feel more than platonic. Regardless, you embrace this image and proudly refer to them in the same way, not noticing the uncomfortable frown on their faces.
-They're the type to treat you like their partner before you guys establish it, just to mark territory for other people (and because they really want to live that fantasy). You may not be theirs fully, but they'll be damned if they let someone else get you. They don't get it at first, they fool themselves into thinking they're just being good friends that care for you too much.
-In my au where Minho experiences a bi awakening because of fem!reader or my oc Violeta/Vivi, this is all more intense and chaotic. They have a lot of trouble dealing with it because they don't know what this means for their relationship and, considering the culture they've been raised, the idea of polyamory doesn't instantly pop in their heads. They're confused and scared, because they feel they're emotionally cheating on the other and also ruining their friendship with you. This leads to several misunderstandings because they can't cope healthily, but they still insist on having you close.
-However, once they come to terms with their feelings for you and embrace, they go from shy, awkward boys to possessive, almost toxic men. They were already clingy before, not wanting you to leave them for anything or anyone, but now they don't even hide it. They're determined to have you, to show you belong with them, and can't stand seeing you with other people.
-It starts slow, you can't even notice. They're more physically affectionate, one of them or both is always touching you in some way when you're out, they refer themselves "jokingly" as your boyfriends and that's why you don't need to go on dates with someone else.
-Then it grows. Their hands now drift from their usual places at your shoulders and back to your waist. Their clinginess worsens. They make you sleep with them in the same bed, shower together like "besties" do, dressing you up because "they love seeing you in new clothes", etc. You force yourself to not think much of it because you see how perfect they are for each other and there's just no way they can feel something more for you..right?
-They're frustrated by how blind you are to their advances, but at the same time, they use it to their advantage to get away with it. The only reason you let them go this far is because you're convinced they can't like you that way and you bet they'll take it as an advantage. As long as you think it's all *overly friendly besties", you won't push them away.
-Deep down, you know something is off here but you can't help but enjoy their little acts. You're used to repressing your forbidden feelings for them to not ruin things, but when they treat you like this, you just let yourself get caught in the moment and pretend you're actually dating them.
-It all breaks down by a jealousy fit from them. The mere thought of losing you to another, for you to love someone else and let them touch you drives them mad, so they make a statement.
-By statement means they lock you in their room and spend hours teaching you not to stray away from your partners. By the end of it, your sweating, clothes tore open and there's not a single trace of skin they haven't marked. Bites, hickeys, bruises. They just let out all their anger and frustration on you.
-The aftercare and morning after is immaculate tho. They feel a bit guilty for how rough they were and make sure to treat you like a princess.
NSFW part ahead, beware❗
-They may be switches but with you, oh boy, you don't have any power in it.
-You have a safeword established and they will stop immediately if you don't want it anymore, but that's it. They have full control over you and your body.
-They worship your whole being, but they have their favourite spots. For Minho is your ass, neck and boobs. For Jisung is your hips, boobs and thighs. They have small competitions to see who leaves the most marks or whose mark are bigger. Your body ends up covered in splashes of red, purple and yellowish.
-They only times they let you be on top is to ride one of them when the other is behind you. They still control your moves and you're basically a doll for them to move around.
-Literally. While you guys are fucking, you're treated like a toy by them, a pair of wet, tight holes for them to fill and play with until they get tired of it (they never but you guys needs to rest from time to time).
-Minho is a sucker from going at you from behind while Jisung is underneath you, both thrusting into you from their positions while you're trapped between them, just taking whatever they give you. Their hands are never too long in one place, constantly roaming all over your skin to feel you up. When he's about to cum, Minho grabs into your boobs and hides his face on your neck, getting drunk on your scent, while Jisung hugs your hips and hides his face in your cleavage, licking the traces of swear that run down of it. They love cumming on their preferred spots to see their essence covering your skin, but if you're on birth control, the only way they're cumming is inside you.
-When they heard the concept of "double penetration", they knew they needed to try it, so they spent HOURS prepping you until they knew you could fit them both there. It was the first time the three of you orgasmed at the same time. The pleasure of feeling your walls closing them in and their dicks rubbing against each other with each movement was mind-blowing. It's a bit painful, so you guys only do it on special occasions.
-If they're still idols in this, you bet they have brought you backstage to fuck you in the the private rooms assigned for the group. Dressing rooms? Bathroom? The music station?? Done, done and done. You're their reward for a good performance or a stress reliever of the're not satisfied with the result.
-Mandatories quickies before stage. They say it's their "lucky charm" (which is a lie because there's usually another quicky after stage).
-The couches from the practice room? Jisung's studio? Yes and yes.
-You visited them once during practise to be a good girlfriend and bring them snacks during their break, and they thanked you by fucking you in front of the mirrors and fogging them. It was a sight to see.
-Another recurrent one is going to Jisung's studio and riding him in his seat or give him a blowjob while he works.
-Cockwarming it's not a kink, it's a necessity.
-And it's never just one of them, oh no. You have to keep both of them warm. Let it be each one in a hole or having both in your cunt. It's not always sexual, they're just pussydrunk and can't go a day without playing with it.
-When they feel in a rather possessive mode, they mark you and then you guys go out and you're forbidden from trying to hide it. They make you wear skirts that barely conceal the hickeys on your inner thighs, tops that don't reach your neck, leaving those purple bruises exposed. They get off from people watching them and realising you're taken.
-Outside the bedroom it might seem that you're in charge, since they behave like total babies with you and have to look after them. But if people look closely, they can see Jisung's firm hand on your waist, never letting you go. Or Minho occasionally brushing his hand on the expanse of your neck with a concentrated look in his eyes. They'll notice how you're never by yourself and one of them is always touching you somehow, keeping you glued to their side.
-In short, having Minsung as lovers would be a wild ride, full of passion and intensity. It's not a kid's game, since they're complicated people in their own right and you're still figuring out where this would lead, but one thing is clear.
-They're never letting you go.
If you want something specific or want me to change something, please let me know! I'd love to see more opinions.
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