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#Might come up with some for the other boys too
moonstruckme · 23 hours
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Thawing Out
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
cw: modern au, chronic pain, mention of Sirus' family but no talk of abuse, some talk of traumatic injury
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words
Sirius hates the cold. It makes him look ill, his nose always runs, and he does not have a head made for hats. 
The walk to the rink yesterday was bad, with the chill and the early hour and the dark mood that seemed to permeate him like it infused his very blood, but you made it better by being yourself. He suspects you might have even been going out of your way to be sweeter than usual, given that you knew it was the anniversary of the day Sirius ran away from his family’s home. You’d tried to cheer him up. Still, yesterday was bad.
Today is worse. 
You’re silent as you stalk down the sidewalk, one boy on either side of you. You said hello to both him and Remus as you stepped out the door of your apartment, and then that was it. If it were Sirius it might make sense, but you always have an unnatural amount of energy in the mornings. Obviously you’re not speaking to him. And Sirius is still upset about the addition of the death spiral to your routine, so he’s not speaking to Remus. And Remus is hardly one to spark up conversation during an uncomfortable silence, so that just makes the three of you a very sullen, very silent procession to your early fucking morning practice. 
Except when you arrive, the rink is already bustling. You take one step inside before going back out the door, forcing both boys back outside with you.
“What the fuck?” Remus tries to peer inside. For once, Sirius agrees with him. “Who’s taken our slot?”
“I don’t know,” you say, but you’re still standing in front of the door like you’re barring their entry. “I’m going to go find out. You guys stay here.” 
“Why?” Sirius asks.
Even when you look at him you’re not really looking at him, your eyes distant. If you’re trying to make him feel like shit, it’s working. “Because I don’t need either of you going in there to bite someone’s head off. I’ve got it.” 
With that, you slip inside, not giving either of them a chance to argue. Sirius supposes he could go after you anyway, but you seem like you’d bite his head off, and he’s hurting enough from the cold without that extra ailment to contend with. He pulls out a cigarette instead. 
“You really shouldn’t do that,” Remus hums, but when Sirius looks over the other boy is lighting up too, a cig dangling from the corner of his mouth. When he sees Sirius struggling with his lighter, his fingers frozen and clumsy, he rolls his eyes and steps closer. 
Sirius goes still as Remus cups a hand around his cigarette, lithe fingers an inch from his mouth. The lighter rasps once, and the warmth next to Sirius’ face is a welcome sensation. When Remus steps away Sirius straightens his shoulders, expression carefully impassive as he inhales. He doesn’t thank him. 
“She’ll have your ass for doing it, too,” he says. 
Remus lifts a brow, blowing smoke out one corner of his mouth. “Why? I don’t need my lungs for anything.” 
Sirius shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. She thinks she should be in charge of the whole world.” 
A soft chuckle. Remus looks out to where the sun will rise in a few hours, the sky still a sweet blue. “Maybe she should be.” 
Sirius can’t help a little smile at that. He takes comfort only in knowing Remus doesn’t see. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” 
They lapse into a brief silence, easier and more contented than Sirius would have thought possible between the two of them. It breaks only when you come bustling back out the doors. 
“Okay, so apparently—” You stop, looking between them both. “Guys. Seriously?” 
“What?” Remus asks, but Sirius knows better, dropping his cigarette and stamping it out. 
Your gaze flicks over him, almost approving but still a far cry from friendly. He swears your mouth wants to smile at him, only you’re not letting it. 
“Those are so bad for you,” you tell Remus. 
He levels you with a dry look, the brave bastard. “What does it matter? I’m not an athlete.” 
You wince but don’t back down. “Athletes aren’t the only ones with reason to live past fifty.” You give him a hard look. It takes a while, but eventually Remus relents, dropping his cigarette as Sirius had. You nod, crouching to pick up both dog-ends and taking them to a bin. “Each one shortens your life by eleven minutes, you know.” 
Remus meets Sirius’ eyes, incredulous. “She comes prepared with statistics?” he asks in a hushed voice. 
Sirius nods. “Told you so.” 
You brush your hands off on your pants. “Okay. Anyway, hockey practice got moved up.” 
“You’re joking,” says Remus. 
“Nope. And, someone else got wind of it before us, because the slot they had at nine has already been filled. We can’t practice today.” 
Sirius shakes his head. “Bullshit. Why did hockey get moved?” 
You shrug, hugging your middle so your hands can burrow under your arms for warmth. “Management said they didn’t know, only that someone on the team asked for a different slot just for today. Seems like they were sweet-talked into it.” 
Your eyes meet Sirius’ for half a second, and he takes out his phone, frigid thumbs anger-typing away. 
“So that’s it then?” Remus asks. He looks like he’d really like his cigarette back. “We’ve just woken up before dawn and we’re not going to practice?” 
You sigh. “Seems that way. We can come back during open skate, but you know how that is.” 
Sirius scowls, and Remus’ expression twinges with distaste. “Yeah,” says Remus, “let’s wait until tomorrow.” 
You all break where you usually do, though hours ahead of schedule, Remus going off towards his place and Sirius walking you in the direction of yours. 
“Fancy a coffee?” he asks you, voice intentionally light. 
It has the expected effect. You bristle at his easy tone, keeping your eyes ahead. “No, thanks.” 
“Fair enough.” Sirius would really like something to warm his hands, but he suspects he needs to pick his battles with you today. “Fancy telling me when we’re going to be friends again?” 
You blow out a harsh breath. It crystalizes in front of you, and you walk right through. “Don’t be daft. We’re always friends. It’s because I’m your friend that I’m so pissed off with you.” 
He nods slowly. “I don’t follow.” 
You shake your head, anger quickening your pace so that Sirius is nearly jogging to keep up with you. “Why can’t you ever stay out of your own way?” you ask him. “I know yesterday was hard for you, but you can’t be an asshole to everyone just because you’re having a bad day.” 
“Hey now, that’s not fair.” Sirius knows joking probably isn’t the best tactic with you right now, but he can’t help himself. “I wasn’t an asshole to you, was I?” 
“That’s what I mean!” You stop so hard he nearly plows into you, but you don’t so much as flinch at the possibility. Your stare is fierce. “You can’t keep trying to scare him off. It’s not going to work, and we need him. Can’t you see how much better he’s made us already? I know you didn’t want a coach, but Remus is good for us. So you can stop being so difficult.” 
“I am not being difficult,” says Sirius, though he often is. You stick your tongue in your cheek, annoyed, and he fights the urge to take your face in his hands. He hates having you cross with him, but at least you’re talking. “And you don’t know what we would be like if he weren’t here. We might’ve been fine.” 
You sigh, looking suddenly tired. And so, so disappointed. “That’s not the point anyways. You know what you said to him yesterday was wrong.” 
Sirius feels a dull stab in his gut. He knows. He does. He knew it the second it came flying out of his mouth, and he has no idea why Remus doesn’t seem as livid with him as you are. Remus, with his even voice and his exasperated, knowing looks and that stern little wrinkle between his brows, who seems able to wind Sirius up better than anyone else. A match to his short fuse. 
“How would you feel?” you ask. Some of the anger has fallen away from your voice, leaving it soft and sad. “What if we went to competition in a few weeks, and you injured yourself so that you knew you could never skate again. And then someone used it to mock you.” 
“He’s risking us doing that,” Sirius says, stubbornly, though he can hear the plea in his own voice, “by asking us to change the routine.” 
“He’s trying to help us,” you reply firmly. But your shoulders droop, and you sigh. “I know you feel bad about it. I’m done being mad at you now. It’s exhausting.” 
Sirius feels too hollowed out to revel much in the victory, but your arm linking through his does help some. “Some could say that was my plan all along,” he jokes weakly. 
You make a halfhearted attempt at a chuckle. “Good thing I know better. If your hands are in danger of falling off, you could stop at mine, make yourself a coffee.” 
“When I asked you for coffee five minutes ago you said no.” 
“Yeah, I wasn’t done punishing you yet.” 
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yeostinys · 3 days
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My Dear Darling
Chapter 2
Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader
Genre: Eventual Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!
Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Nothing too crazy in this chapter. Explicit language. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore)
Word Count: 6k
Synopsis: You enter new water as ATZ makes you question your own feelings, but tries to make you feel as comfortable as possible.
previous >>> next chapter (coming soon)
—————————-
“You guys… want me to be in a romantic relationship with all of you. At the same time?” You cock and eyebrow at them. You feel like this is a prank. A joke they put together to mess with you.
“Yes. Of course we understand this might be a foreign thing for you. However, if you are willing to give this a try, we’d like if you give us a chance to show you what we can offer. Take you on dates, get to know us more. The option is completely up to you. If you do not wish to comply, we can forget this conversation ever happened. We only want what you want, Y/N.” Hongjoong explains.
“Have… you done this with other girls before?” You ask. Genuinely curious, you never thought ATZ would be into poly relationships. You assumed they’d all be pretty possessive over their significant others.
“We have before with just one previous person. But it didn’t last long. She got too involved with one member and only wanted him. We weren’t for it. So we all collectively agreed to let her go.” Hongjoong replies. You’re shocked. The boys look at you as if they’re trying to figure out what you’re thinking.
“Y/N, You don’t have to give us an answer now” Seonghwa speaks up. You look at him and he’s giving you a gentle look.
“We know that this can be a lot to take in. If you want to try this out, let us know. If you don’t, you don’t even have to contact us. We will understand” Jongho chimes in.
You open your mouth to speak when you are all interrupted with someone walking through the front door. San is home.
“San, you’re here just in time” Wooyoung says as he moves towards San to drag him to the couch. San looks at you with a blank face. You reciprocate the look and turn your attention back to the rest of the boys.
“Were you going to say something Y/N?” Yeosang asks. You look at all 8 men now sitting infront of you. San is sitting on the couch arm rest with his arms crossed still staring at you.
“I… need some time to think. Last night was a long night for me I didn’t get much sleep in. so… I’ll tell you guys my answer soon. I just need some rest-“ You hesitate to say as you begin to rise from your chair.
“Y/N you don’t have to explain yourself we understand. I apologize if we came on too strong.” Yunho says as he makes his way towards you.
“I’ll take you home” Yunho looks at you worried.
“No I’m sorry. I’m not judging you guys it’s just… need some time to think over stuff” You say as you look at all the men in front of you. They look at you with genuine concern. But in understanding of what you may be feeling, they nod and bid you a goodbye.
Yunho walks you out the door and you turn towards him,
“Yunho… you don’t have to walk me home. I… want to be alone. I hope you understand” You say.
“Oh yeah… of course. Thank you Y/N for coming by. I’ll see you around.” Yunho says with a soft smile and waves goodbye to you.
——
Yunho walks back inside the house with a loud sigh.
“I thought you were walking her home?” San says raising his eyebrow.
“Yeah well she asked to be alone so… I’m sure she’s probably terrified of us” Yunho slumps onto the couch and rubs his eyes with his palms.
“I don’t think so…” Jongho says tapping his chin.
“What do you mean?” Wooyoung says turning to the youngest member.
“Well, if she was terrified of us and didn’t want to be in this type of relationship with us, she would’ve rejected us on the spot” Jongho says as he continues,
“Like she said, she’s just taking in the information and will get back to us soon. Meaning she might be interested or might not be. It’s a 50/50 chance.” Jongho finishes his statement and rises from the couch.
“Yes, Jongho is right. So no bothering Y/N until she approaches us.” Hongjoong says as he stands up with Jongho and points at all of the men.
“Especially you Wooyoung” Hongjoong glares at him.
“What do you mean?! I understand what personal space is!” Wooyoung raises both his hands as he defends himself.
“Did we come off as too strong last night?” Yeosang questions as he pouts. Obviously bummed that you left so quickly.
“I told you guys each of us asking for her number the same night would’ve been weird” Yunho mumbles.
“If you felt like that then why didn’t you push it on us harder to stop!” Mingi argues.
“We were all buzzed last night!” Wooyoung exclaims.
“Okay seriously everyone stop! Y/N didn’t reject us nor did she accept us. Just give her some space and don’t go seeking out for her until she approaches us. We don’t want to come off too pushy” Seonghwa speaks up trying to calm down everyone. The boys look at the Seonghwa and sighs.
“Hwa is right. Does everyone understand?” Hongjoong crosses his arms in frustration. The boys nod in agreement and disperse from the living room.
——
You walk back home trying to process the confession you just received. Normally, in a crisis like this, you’d confide in Jia or Mina. However, in this situation, you feel that it’s not your place to tell anyone about ATZ’s relationship dynamic. It was obvious that no one knew they were into polygamy. Making your way back into your apartment you slump down on your bed and release a loud sigh. Grabbing a pillow and throwing over your face you scream. Naturally you fall asleep… you weren’t lying to them when you said you didn’t get any sleep the night before. You were exhausted from studying and partying right after. Not only that, your feelings became all out of wack. You needed to rest and so did your heart.
~~
A week has passed since you last seen or spoken to ATZ. You noticed Jongho was avoiding you in class. You assumed it was because he didn’t want to evade your privacy or seem pushy about the lingering questions he and the rest of the boys may have had. You thought avoiding the question and the thoughts would naturally lead you back to your normal lifestyle. But it didn’t.
You sat on the edge of your messy bed, surrounded by a mountain of textbooks, scribbled notes, and empty coffee cups, remnants of late-night study sessions that often spiraled into daydreams. Your thoughts drifted to them—ATZ, realizing each of them had captured a piece of your heart in their own unique way. And you can’t deny it any longer.
Wooyoung’s playful laughter always cut through the noise. He had a knack for turning any party or event into something even more lively, his antics drawing everyone into his orbit. It was hard not to smile when he was around, his energy infectious and uplifting.
Seonghwa was someone you admired from a distance. His caring nature was evident in how he treated others, always ready with a kind word or a thoughtful gesture. You also remember your interaction with him that night he asked for your number, the way his persona was switched into a charismatic confident person, made you more curious to be with him. and Hongjoong with his stupid humble confidence and teasing remarks. Though you hadn’t had many direct interactions with him, the way he carried himself as a person only made you fall for him more.
Yunho, with his gentle and loving spirit, was a pillar of support. Those summers you two spent together as he listened with an attentive ear, making you feel like your words mattered. Conversations with him flowed naturally, often deep and reflective, leaving you feeling understood and cherished. There was something profoundly comforting about his presence that made you want to share everything.
Then there was Mingi, His magnetic charm that was hard to resist, always ready with a joke or a playful comment. His confidence and humor ignited a thrill within you, a fun challenge that kept your heart racing. Mingi could light up the darkest days, and you found yourself drawn to his lively spirit.
Yeosang, gorgeous as ever. With his mysterious aura that intrigued you, pulling you in like a moth to a flame. Those months you spent together last semester in the library studying lingered in your mind. Despite his quiet nature, he loved to engage in deep conversations, revealing layers of himself that fascinated you. You felt as though you were uncovering secrets every time he spoke, and the allure of his complexity kept you captivated.
Jongho, stupidly handsome and humble, he had a refreshing honesty that grounded you. You appreciated his directness, finding solace in his no-nonsense approach to life. He had a way of making things clear, cutting through the confusion with simple truths that resonated deeply.
And then San. Cold and seemingly distant, he was a puzzle you longed to solve, even though you two have a rough history. Beneath his mysterious exterior lay a warmth you remember but rarely saw nowadays. You couldn’t help but feel that he secretly still cared for you, and that thought both thrilled and terrified you. The intensity of his gaze lingered in your mind long after you had walked away, leaving you with an ache that was both confusing and exhilarating.
Each of these eight men added a unique shade to your life, painting your days with a kaleidoscope of emotions—excitement, confusion, longing. You found yourself caught in a whirlwind of affection, each connection offering its own thrill and challenge. As you navigated the complexities of your feelings, the idea of exploring these relationships further both excited and frightened you. In that tiny, cluttered space where you spent so many hours—distracting yourself with work—you felt the stirrings of something profound. The prospect of uncovering the depths of your feelings for them all ignited a spark of hope, a glimmer of possibility amidst the chaos of your college life. Each day without seeing or hearing from them felt like a story waiting to unfold, and you were eager to see where it would lead.
So you get up from your messy bed, put on a fitted top and baggy sweats and headed out your door.
You glanced at your phone 11:35pm.
(Fuck) you mentally say to yourself. It’s late why are you deciding to go see them now? Your mind tells you to go back home, but your legs and heart tell you to keep going forward. Regardless you continue walking. Picking up your speed, eager to see them, you felt a drop of water on your nose. You look up and see a light sprinkle of rain coming down.
(you have got to be fucking kidding me) you curse to yourself. You start to jog, you’re not that far from the frat house. Your heart beats faster. You don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline of running or the growing feelings for the men you were craving to see in this very moment.
You finally arrive at the front door you were once at a week ago. You’re a panting mess, drenched in the rain that began to pour faster. You buzzed the door bell and waited for what felt like an eternity. Finally the door clicks open, and you’re greeted with a confused Hongjoong. Eyes widen at your current state. Unconsciously, you run towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. Hugging him tightly.
“I’m sorry I came so suddenly” you whisper. still panting trying to catch your breath. Hongjoong hugs you back tightening his grip holding you closer. He sighs in relief. “God Darling why did you run here in the rain” he whispers back. You finally pull away from him and realize you got his white tshirt and gray sweats all wet.
“Hongjoong, who was at the door-?”
You turn your head and see Seonghwa and the rest of the boys shocked to see you.
“Y/N…” Seonghwa says in disbelief
“Hi” you say smiling. All the boys hesitate to move towards you. So Hongjoong grabs your hand brings you to the couch.
“San, go grab her a spare pair of clothes. She’s drenched from the rain” Hongjoong says quietly to him. San nods and heads upstairs to his room. The boys sit around you in silence. You fiddle your fingers. You came here to tell them you want to be with them, but your voice won’t speak.
“Y/N, go change. Then we can talk.” Hongjoong says as San holds out a fresh pair of folded clothes in front of you. You hesitantly grab the clothes as San shows you the way to the bathroom. You change into a pair of black sweat shorts and an ATZ embroidered frat sweater. You take a deep breath and exhale trying to calm yourself. You make your way back to the living room. You stand before them once again. They all look at you in awe.
“I… I’m sorry I came here so suddenly especially at this time of night. I know it’s late… But I just… I just wanted to say that I’m ready to try this out.” You stare at them, suddenly the desperation you had makes you feel embarrassed.
“I… I want to be with all of you.” You say once again.
“Y/N… are you sure about this?” Seonghwa speaks up. You nod instantly and the boys smile at you. Hongjoong moves from leaning on the wall and makes his way towards you. He sits you on the single couch and pats your head.
“Miss Y/N… we promise to take good care of you” Hongjoong softly smiles at you.
“Do you have anything else for us? Any questions or comments before starting this relationship? We know this is still new water to you.” Jongho speaks up.
“I want to know why me. Why did you all collectively choose me?” You sit up straight
“Well, we are all fond of you Y/N. You’re beautiful, smart, and kind. That’s something we can all agree on. Of course we each have our own stories on how we developed a crush on you. Which is not mine to tell, but I believe we should tell you on our own time with you”. Hongjoong says. You nod in agreement and speak again
“Since this is new to me… if at any point I’m not doing something right, just guide me a little and don’t hesitate to tell me. Also, you guys need to give me time to warm up to this. I know we have been mutuals for awhile but we barely know each other. So, let’s take things slow” You say softly.
“Of course, and we ask the same Y/N. Don’t hesitate to tell or ask us anything” Yunho states. You nod and give them a soft smile.
“So… I’m ATZ’s girlfriend?” you say in a teasing tone. The boys chuckle at your light heartedness and hum in response,
“Yes, ATZ is your boyfriend” Mingi says with his charming smile. You blush and remember another question you had.
“Oh, I was also meaning to ask… Will anyone know about our relationship?” You look at the boys in curiosity.
“Well, typically no. We know it may be hard to hide a relationship with 8 people. So, to everyone else you’ll be ATZ’s Sweetheart. But to us you’ll be our girlfriend.“ Seonghwa responds.
“When the day comes that you’re ready to reveal this relationship public we will be ready too, Y/N” Hongjoong says.
“Okay” You say with a smile and stand up.
“I should head home then… It’s late and I’m sorry again for barging in so late” You say with an awkward smile.
“Y/N, just stay the night. We have a spare room. It’s late and still raining.” Yeosang insists as he stands up and walk towards you. He grabs your hand to make you stay.
“Yeah just stay Y/N! we were about to watch a movie!” Wooyoung exclaims. You hesitate to stay but the boys pull you to the couch. Next thing you know, the night proceeds as an action movie plays on the large screen. The boys are scattered along the living room couches and floor. You are sat between Yunho and Yeosang. The coffee table in front of you is covered with snacks and drinks. The dark atmosphere of the house is illuminated by the television screen. Something about this is so relaxing that you begin to feel your eyes get heavy. You let your head fall onto Yeosang’s shoulder and he chuckles,
“You tired?” Yeosang whispers. You shake your head in protest and try to keep your eyes awake and fixated on the screen. Moments go by and you can’t remember when you fell asleep. Some of the boys have already made their ways to their rooms and the bathroom to freshen up. You remain asleep on Yeosang’s shoulder until San approaches you two.
“I can take her to the room” San whispers to Yeosang in which he nods in response. San carefully lifts you in his arms trying not to wake you up, thankfully you are in a deep slumber. His arms are supporting your back and legs as your head naturally falls onto his chest. Yeosang stretches up and bids San a goodnight before walking off to his room.
San makes his way to the spare room and gently lays you on top of the bed. He pulls the blanket over your body and sits at the edge of the bed next to you. He admires your peaceful face as you sleep soundly. His hand strokes your hair and kisses your forehead.
“i’m sorry it took me this long Y/N” San whispers quietly. He knows you can’t hear him. Which is exactly why he decides to confess this now. He wants to tell you why. But not just yet.
——
If someone were to ask you why you agreed to be in a relationship with ATZ. You wouldn’t know what to say, other than that you cared for all of them. The last serious relationship you’ve ever had was 4 years ago. You wanted to walked into university with no distractions. With a balance of academics and meeting new people with no attachments, you were satisfied with your decision of being independent. So it being your last year in university, what could go wrong? As Jia said before, you are top of the graduating class and are already on track with an internship for a project management company that has been hinting a set job position for you once you graduate. You feel that most people would shame you and say it would be an inconvenience trying to date 8 men at the same time. but you beg to differ. Thought no one may say anything to you anytime soon, their opinions didn’t matter.
——
Two days have gone by since you’ve seen the boys on that rainy night. You’re currently sitting in the University library typing a research paper for a class. You’re playing soft lo-fi music in your earphones for a complete study atmosphere, until you’re interrupted with a tug at your wires. You look up and see none other than Hongjoong smiling at you. You smile back at him.
“Hey there Pretty.” Hongjoong takes a seat next to you.
“Hi Hongjoong” you scoot to give him some room. He pulls out can of instant coffee from a vending machine near by and opens it for you.
“oh, thank you” you take the can and sip on it.
“What are you up to?” He asks casually. You feel a sudden nervousness as this is your first time in public with him as your boyfriend. You’ve rarely talked to Hongjoong throughout your time here in university. So it was something you’d definitely needed to get used to.
“Just writing a research paper for a class. I’m almost done” You say as you advert your attention back to your laptop. Hongjoong peers over your shoulder and watches your screen. His face is dangerously close to yours, that you can hear his soft breathing next to your ear. He hums while nodding his head as he pulls back to lean into his seat.
“When you’re done let’s go get lunch.” Hongjoong takes one of your pens and begins spinning it between his fingers. You look at him with a straight face,
“Sure” you say casually. Hongjoong smirks at your nonchalant expression and stretches his arms.
“Well since you’re still working I might as well finish my assignments too.” Hongjoong takes out his laptop and some overhead headphones. You watch him set up his items and pull up what looks like a demo sound track on his screen. He’s already in a working mode as he moves and clicks his laptop. You turn your attention back to your laptop continue your work. The atmosphere is comfortable between you two. You quickly learn that Hongjoong is a diligent worker and doesn’t like to slack off. Within the hour of you two sitting in the quiet library together, he would occasionally turn to you for advice on his sound track as well as make small talk conversations.
“You getting hungry?” Hongjoong whispers.
“Hmm Yeah I am. I’m craving some ramen and spicy rice cakes.” you say as you stretch your arms.
“Okay let’s go” Hongjoong begins to pack his things and you follow.
Hongjoong takes you to a near by ramen booth by the university and orders for you both. As you two wait for your food you can’t help but ask some lingering questions you’ve had since you left the frat house.
“Hongjoong, you mentioned to me that you and the rest of ATZ had developed your crushes on me for separate reasons.” You begin. Hongjoong hums in response and remains eye contact with you.
“What was your reason? We’ve never really spoken to each other before. So why so suddenly?” You ask.
“To be honest. I don’t know when it started. As much as I may seem confident as the leader of ATZ, I am pretty reserved. But I often saw you at school events and parties and grew a fond of you. I guess, from there you always just stayed in my mind. became someone I appreciated being around. You always have a positive aura and I find it very attractive. Not to mention you’re very hot” He winks at you, and you blush.
“How did… You guys agree to choose me? How did the conversation even come up?” You hesitate to ask. But you’re genuinely curious.
“Hmm… The boys and I grew a strong bond together the moment we first met and created ATZ. The first poly relationship we had was a new stepping stone in our friendship. We all had a crush on the same person but with our loyalty towards each other, we ended up compromising by trying out polyamorous relationships. It worked out at first. but the girl got too obsessed with San more than the others. So naturally we let her go. Ever since then we haven’t pursued any other poly relationships. That is until… we met you. We naturally talk about our crushes to each other once in awhile and one day found out we all liked the same person, which was you. So it took awhile to talk agree on trying out another poly relationship. but next thing led to another, and here we are.” Hongjoong explains.
You nod and start to think about San. Their previous partner was too obsessed with San and began to forget about the other members..? You appreciated Hongjoong being open about their relationship dynamics. Many people would find this controversial, and somehow it encourages you to be the best person for all of them.
“Here is your food! Please enjoy~” The server plates the meal in front of you and Hongjoong and excuses herself. You both feast on your meals and continue to talk about each other. You smile to yourself as you enjoy this date, Hongjoong is a talker and listener, making you feel very comfortable about not being afraid to open up to him more. After Hongjoong pays the bill, you both make your way back to the university.
“Is your schedule done for today?” Hongjoong looks at you while walking side by your side. You hum in response.
“Yeah, I was done before I went to the library. I’m actually going to head home.” You say keeping your eyes forward.
“Before you go home, let me take you to the ATZ house” Hongjoong says as he stops infront of you, causing you to stop in your tracks.
“Why?” you question
“All the boys are shitting on me for taking you out without them knowing” Hongjoong laughs. You can’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous statement.
“They just want to see you. that’s all. Please?” Hongjoong grabs your hands and rubs them softly.
“Okay” you say to him.
“Perfect, let’s go” Hongjoong smiles.
——
Arriving at the ATZ house, you see Jongho and Yunho distracted on a game console while Mingi and Yeosang watch.
“Hi everyone” You say as you wave. The boys quickly turn their heads to your honey voice and smile instantly.
“There’s our girl!” Mingi exclaims as he walks towards you and pulls you into a tight hug. You blush at the sudden skinship and hug him back. You see Wooyoung and Seonghwa run out of the kitchen in their aprons and walk towards you with a smile
“Hi Y/N” Seonghwa smiles at you.
“Yah! Hongjoong why did you secretly take her out!” Wooyoung points a finger at the leader and he chuckles.
“We ran into each other at the library! the date just happened on its own, Woo” you defend Hongjoong as you begin to take off your shoes and make your way to the couch.
“Oh okay then!” Wooyoung says as he skips back to the kitchen. You and Hongjoong look at each other and laugh at Wooyoung’s sudden switch up.
You sit down next to Yeosang and he slings an arm over your shoulders.
“How was your day Darling?” Yeosang asks looking at you.
“It was good. I had a lot of fun” You say as you smile at him.
“Where’s San?” you ask the rest of the boys.
“He’s upstairs taking a nap” Jongho replies, eyes still glued onto his game.
“I’m… going to go say hi to him” You hesitantly say as you get up from your seat and make your way to the staircase.
“oh. uh which is his room?” you turn back at laugh in embarrassment.
“Third room to the left” Yeosang replies with a smile.
You nod and walk upstairs. Your mind tries to tell you to stop your intrusive thoughts about greeting San alone in his room but your feet won’t stop moving. You arrive at his door and gently knock three times.
“Come in.” You hear him say.
You slowly twist the door knob and open it. You see San’s back faced towards you. It looks like he was just changing into his shirt that is now nicely clinging onto his toned body. You blush and try to get yourself together. Before you can say anything he turns around a gives you a surprised look.
“Oh Y/N. I didn’t know it was you.” He says casually.
“Sorry, I just got here. I just wanted to say Hi. I didn’t see you downstairs” You say as you instinctively shut the door behind you. He smirks and walks closer towards you, causing you to move backwards and into the wall. You’re now trapped between him and the door. His face is close to yours as he leans down to be eye level with you.
“You’re blocking the door Darling”. He teases. Your eyes widen in realization and you blush trying to move away. San opens the door and walks out.
“Are you coming or are you going to stay in my room?” San asks as he turns around to look at you.
“oh-“ you follow behind him as you both make your way downstairs. You mentally punch yourself at the interaction you just had with San. The signals he’s sending you are all out of wack. The boys are saying one thing about San but his actions and attitude towards you are saying another. Regardless, you make your way back to the couch. All the boys are now present, munching on snacks that Wooyoung and Seonghwa made. Trying to find a spot on the leather cushion, you hesitate to move your legs.
“Come sit here Y/N” Mingi ushers you over and you sit close to him slightly on his lap.
“Don’t be shy” Mingi teases as he holds your waist to maneuver you comfortably on his lap. You release a yelp.
“Mingi! she said take things slow!” Wooyoung shouts. You blush and hide your face in your palms. The boys are giggling at your cute gesture.
“It’s fine” You say as you try to hide your smile. You shift to get comfortable and mentally pull yourself together.
Mingi’s hand rests on your thigh lightly tapping to the beat of the song playing in the background. One of your arms is slung over his neck as your other hand scrolls through your phone, trying to find something to do. You don’t know how to function, Mingi is so direct, so out of curiosity you decide to get the question out of the way.
“Mingi” you quietly call his name. The boys around you are too distracted with their own things and the music blasting is too loud to hear you.
“Hmm?” He leans his ear in closer to your mouth as you begin to speak
“I’m curious…” you begin
“Of what?” He replies
“When did you start liking me?” You ask as your hand starts playing with his hair. You both are ridiculously close to each other as he begins to speak,
“You want me to be honest?” He asks with a cocky smile.
“Yes I do” you raise an eye brow at him. He leans into your ear and whispers,
“I started liking you the day you and your friends came to cheer on ATZ at the pie fundraiser. You in that cute cheerleading outfit is still engraved in my mind till this day” He chuckles. You gasp and blush as you playfully hit his shoulder. He laughs out loud and hold onto his arm.
“What! you said be honest” Mingi exclaims. All the boys attention are now on both of you.
“Oh my god Mingi did you tell her?” Yunho asks. Mingi ignores Yunho’s question knowing his friend already knows the answer.
“Mingi that pie fundraiser was 2 year ago! how do you still remember that!” You say as you get up from his lap.
“Why are you leaving!” Mingi whines as he can’t control his laughter.
“Y/N, we all still remember that pie fundraiser. It’s probably the one of the best memories we have” Hongjoong laughs. Your face is now so red.
“What do you guys mean by that” you stand in front of them and cross your arms.
“We mean that pie fundraiser was one of the most successful events we’ve had! You and your friends cheerleading team really helped us. and as a bonus we got to spend the whole day with you” Yeosang laughs.
“I.. didn’t even know you guys noticed me that long ago” You say. The boys smile softly at your shyness and encourage you to come sit back down with them.
“We’ve noticed you longer than you’ll ever know Darling” Seonghwa says.
The night continues with laughter and constant questions and comments about you. The boys are very attentive. Making sure you’re comfortable and well fed. You look towards your phone and notice it’s getting late.
“I should head back home.” You say as you get up from the couch.
“I’ll walk you home.” You turn your head to see San standing up with you.
“Okay” you say calmly.
You bid goodbyes to everyone as they pass you around to hug you.
San waits for you by the door as you put your shoes on and walk out with him.
——
The walk back to your apartment seems longer than usual. It’s only a 10 minute walk from the campus, but with San by your side, the quiet awkwardness makes it feel like an eternity.
“San?” You break the silence
“Yes?” he replies, eyes still facing forward.
“Thank you for walking me home.” You say. He chuckles.
“Is that it?” He asks as he looks down at you. You nod. Slightly confused at his response. San’s eyes turn back to look at the concrete in front of him. And the walk remains quiet.
Finally arriving to the front of the apartment building you turn to San and thank him once again.
“Let me walk you to your door.” He insists.
“you don’t have to-“
San cuts you off as he opens the lobby doors. You sigh and follow behind him inside. You both enter the elevator and lean your back against the wall bar. San reciprocates the action next to you.
“San…” you speak up and he turns to face you in response.
“I don’t want you to force yourself to act like you like me for the sake of your friends wanting this type of relationship” You say in true honesty. You try to keep your voice calm and confident.
“What are you talking about?” San says in a nonchalant tone.
“Well It just doesn’t make sense to me that you agreed to this…” You say as you look at the ground. (why is this elevator moving so slow, you mentally say to yourself).
“And what makes you think that Y/N” San asks. You can still feel his piercing gaze on you.
“because you hate me San. so it doesn’t make sense that-”
Suddenly, San cuts you off and traps you against the wall. His hands rest on the bars behind your hips. He leans his face close to yours and stares into your eyes.
“don’t you hate me too Y/N? why did you agree to this if you hate me?” San asks in a teasing tone. You gulp and feel your cheeks heat up. You don’t know what to say. You just stand there under his body like a trapped prey.
“Answer me Y/N” San says in soft yet deep tone.
“I asked you first” You don’t know why you’re biting back. He scoffs as he looks down.
“It’s quite the opposite for me Darling.” San releases his grip from the metal bars and moves away as the elevator door rings open. You quickly walk out of the elevator and make your way to your door. San follows you from behind with his hands in his pockets.
“O-okay well this is me. Thank you again for taking me home. I’ll see you soon” You say as you scramble to take out your keys and unlock the door. You don’t look at him. Before you can walk into your apartment, San grabs your wrist and turns you towards him. Your eyes widen.
“Do you hate me Y/N?” San asks again.
“No…” you say quietly.
“Do you like me?” San’s eyes look into yours then drops down to your soft lips.
You nod in response. It feels like he’s leaning in closer to your face. Your eyes naturally close. Waiting for him to close the small gap between you two. San smirks at your gesture and scoffs lightly.
*thwack* San softly flicks your forehead and pulls away from you. You widen your eyes and blush in embarrassment.
“Goodnight Y/N”. San pushes you into your apartment and closes the door shut. You stand by your front door shocked and dumbfounded.
(What the fuck was that?) you quietly curse under your breath.
end of chapter 2…
next chapter. (coming soon…)
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author’s comment: thank you all so much for the support of this series! more is to come soon! please don’t hesitate to leave comments or questions in my ask box or comment section!
comment or message me to be apart of the current tag list! 🪼
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tag list: @georgeanabanana @jaytheatiny @mxnsxngie @spenceatiny18 @sanhwalvr @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @joongscheese @therealcuppicake @velvetskize @hwxbibi
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morphodae · 19 hours
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· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
ღ HSR Men Becoming Parents (part 2) ღ
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
(≫ Part 1 here)
≫ Note: some children of these characters are biological and some are adopted! :)
✦ CW: some related story spoilers for characters, non-graphic mentions of labor and delivery, pregnancy, fluff, light angst, suggestive in Jing Yuan’s part lol, spoilers for Otto Apocalypse HI3 in Luocha’s part (iykyk), no partner in Sampo’s it’s simply platonic parental fluff, creative liberty for Sunday’s destiny after Penacony, the Trailblazer/MC is Stelle in this
✦ Characters: Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo (platonic), Sunday x Reader all separate (gender-neutral for the most part as anyone can be a “mom” or parent!)
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≫ Jing Yuan
“So… (Name) and the General go at it like rabbits? Not surprised, tbh.”
“Eww! I don’t wanna think about that! We already know they can hardly take their hands off each other when we see them together!”
A loud clearing of someone’s throat is heard as Dan Heng appears in the hotel doorway of the two gossiping girls. Arms crossed, expression unamused.
“Speaking so crudely about the General while we’re visiting isn’t exactly proper,” he admonishes, he turns to the pink-haired girl, “and I thought you’d know better than to encourage her behavior, March.”
March 7th waves her hands up frantically in defense. “I’m just as surprised as Stelle is, that’s all!”
As the young man turns to walk away, the thought of someone from his old life — an old friend — becoming a father was a thought that brought the faintest of smiles to Dan Heng’s face.
During your pregnancy, it was easy and lowkey. Your Yuan made sure to keep you out of his affairs as much as possible and you were grateful. Additionally, you had an easy process welcoming your little girl together into the world. The only thing was — your husband might have kept things a bit too secret.
——————
Yanqing is playing another game of chess in the General’s garden, asking question upon question about the newest bundle he saw his master carrying days ago.
“When were you going to tell me, General?! That’s huge news!”
“All in due time,” the white-haired man grins, taking another piece off the game board.
Yanqing was quite ecstatic, if not surprised, to find out his Master had a daughter behind the scenes. He respected you and the General greatly, so a part of the young boy wanted to get stronger so that he could protect the General’s daughter as though she were his little sister.
“Speaking of, there were rumors going around of you and (Name). And during one of our sparring matches, Yunli got embarrassed when I asked her what she heard about you and (Name)…” Yanqing trails off, gold eyes deep in thought. His expression far too innocent. “I mean, General, don’t babies normally just… come from an ancient bird? That’s what I heard, anyways. If that’s the case then maybe Yunli and I can raise one someday as our apprentice and—“
Jing Yuan cuts off his apprentice with a deep rumble of laughter. “—Perhaps that’s something for you to worry about in several decades time.” The General rises from his cushion gracefully, changing the subject on the endearingly naive boy.
“Speaking of Miss Yunli, weren’t you going to gift her a weapon you saw in a shop and then take her to see a new play?”
Yanqing’s eyes widen comically, his face turning a bright shade of vermillion. “Huh?! How do you know that?”
The General merely walks away, a knowing laugh and closed-eyed smile as the only response he offers.
“General? H-hey! General…!”
≫ “Luocha”
The merchant “Luocha” knew better than to stay too long in one place. To form attachments and risk the confrontation of heartbreak of the other party. The contents of his mysterious coffin kept him grounded to his mission that none should know about.
But yet. He met you.
Another merchant, one with a penchant for travel, like him. A Foxian with a natural sense of business relations and ensuring every customer could receive what they asked for; and if they didn’t, then there would also be an offered compromise. In a way, he was the one in the shadows, preferring to keep things simple, business-only, and secretive. You, however, would greet everyone as one would a friend; polite, direct, extroverted, personable. The sun to his moon. Yet, he had to admit: it was a perfect complement in terms of business.
The one day you take off and he’s left to finish up at your shared stall in Aurum Alley, is the day he finds his life changes forever.
Two young children; a girl and a boy, are being cornered by Cloud Knights who insisted they stole and by the looks of things, are being quite aggressive with the two children. The girl, the slightly taller of the two, is huddled protectively over the boy, trying desperately to shield his trembling form. The boy is coughing, clearly unwell and scared.
Usually, Luocha wouldn’t get involved in trivial matters. The galaxy is a vast place, and oftentimes, it can be cruel. Yet the sight of the two children mirrors a distant, hazy memory — and that is enough to get the blond man in action. With graceful steps, he approaches the Knights, assesses the situation, and fishes for information. Supposedly, the girl had been stealing food and medicine for the boy since they had no one but themselves, despite not being related by blood, the girl felt the need to care for him. The boy was born sickly and had inventions that he eagerly showed Luocha when asked, stating that no one wanted to buy them.
Leaning down to the children’s heights, Luocha reimbursed the Knights for any credits lost that the kids were responsible for and dismissed them. Taking a look at the young boy’s inventions brought a smile to his face. “You are quite the genius, you know?” With a beaming smile, the boy stood a little closer to the blond merchant and offered to show him more of his ideas.
“No need. Not right now, at least,” Luocha responds smoothly. “How about I treat the two of you to a proper meal? Then, I can show you the stall that my partner and I run.”
—————
The next day, the little boy’s inventions stood proudly on the display cases; garnering in several customers as Luocha and his partner swore that the two children, who were all alone in the galaxy with no one but each other, would never go hungry or want for shelter ever again.
≫ Sampo Koski
How does a Fool, one who lives for himself, his Aeon, and theatrics, ever find anyone to grab his attention permanently?
The truth is, it’s an extremely rare occurrence and not something Sampo Koski saw happening for himself. Still, one fateful day in the slums of Belebog changed the course of his life forever.
A young boy — a street performer, it seemed — was excited to show any passerby his tricks and jokes. Naturally, Sampo had to see what the fuss was about. With no Silvermane staff or pesky Captain Gepard to ruin his fun, Sampo felt compelled to join the show.
When parts of the crowd seemed bored or uninterested in stopping by, Sampo made sure to draw more attention to the boy’s performance. With a wink and a dramatic bow, the blue-haired man encouraged the kid to continue on; stating that his show was going to be worth it.
With newfound confidence, the boy continued the performance with Sampo; drawing in stray credits until the pair were eventually chased by off-duty Guards into a hidden alleyway.
“Nice going!” He offered the kid a fist bump as they caught their breath hiding from the Guards near some trash bins. “Name’s Sampo Koski, by the way!”
“I’ve never heard of you, mister,” the boy answered earnestly before shyly giving his own name. “Why would you do that for me back there? Grownups never pay me any mind…”
“Well, call it a bit of generosity on my part,” the man grins. “Say, do you have anywhere to go?”
“No, sir. My parents died long ago to the Fragmentum. It’s just me trying to make it in The Underworld.”
“Well, you’re in luck! Because if you come with Sampo, you’re bound to have endless fun and all the credits you can ask for!” He nudged the kid playfully with his elbow. “What do ya say? Wanna get off this ice rock and see the rest of the galaxy?”
The boy eventually nods, eyes sparkling with newfound joy at a chance of finding himself in the vast galaxy and seeing new sights besides Jarilo-VI.
≫ Sunday Oak
A deal between the IPC and the Family left Sunday at the mercy of those above him… those who were always above him. Yet again, he felt he’d never escape the confines as a caged bird. When the Astral Express offer him a place to stay with him, he’s hesitant before his pragmatism reluctantly agrees. Who else would he stay with? Where else could he go? At least with the Express, he’d have a chance at knowing the well-being and whereabouts of Robin from time to time.
When he meets you on board, he’s as dejected as one would expect; shy, moping, and not a single word uttered to you as he quietly adjusts to a room made just for him. He avoids you and the others save for a word or two out of a necessary response.
You didn’t know him well and met him once or twice in Penacony, so it was jarring to see the once confident Oak Family head so… defeated. But, that never stopped you. If anything, you took it as a challenge.
The Express also took you in and you saw them as family. You were going to do the same for Sunday, no matter what.
The Halovian frustrated you many days but you were slowly breaking down his cautious walls, reminding him of his sister, playing her songs for him to hear, and letting him call her on your phone as he pleased. As such, he found himself falling for you. It was a classic case of “you fell first but he fell harder” as March had said in passing. And so, sooner than later, the two of you became romantic. If anything, Sunday saw you as a savior, a soulmate. Despite kicking himself for becoming so attached, you were a delicious sin he couldn’t help but partake in.
When he received the news, he requested to leave at the nearest stop to clear his head. He knew it wasn’t fair to you and he was sure to get an earful from some Express members once he returned, but his mind was swimming with every possibility. Was he ready for a child? Would he be worthy enough to bring them into a cruel, unrelenting galaxy that he once tried to change for the better? Eventually, he returns back and hugs you wordlessly. You reassure him that if he wanted it too (he did, oh Aeons he wanted both you and his child), that things would work out. And yes, Sunday did receive a stern lecture for leaving from Pom-Pom, March, and even Stelle, but the entirety of the crew sat him down for a long, heartfelt talk to assure him that he was family to them now, and they’d be there for the two of you no matter what.
When the day comes for you to give birth, you’re taken to the best galactic doctor Sunday researched. He’s more nervous than you are and he can’t sit still. His wings flutter at every sound of pain you make and his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. Fourteen system hours later and not one, but two little babies are placed on your chest; each with the tiniest wings sprouting under their ears. A girl and a boy — a subtle reminder of him and Robin.
Only this time, through blurry vision of nonstop tears, Sunday swore he’d never let either one of them succumb to a fate akin to that poor Charmony dove. Your children would have no cages, but instead, boundless freedom.
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© morphodae (please do not insert any of my works into artificial intelligence programs or repost my works on any site)
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Hey um, what if the Overblot boys told each other their backstories?
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Mmm… Well firstly, I think it would take a lot of effort to arrive at a point where all of the OB boys would even feel comfortable being that emotionally intimate with the others. Many of the OB boys are highly guarded and resistant to putting themselves in compromising positions. For example, I can easily see Azul being paranoid that the others would use his background as blackmail; he would not risk having his own vulnerabilities becoming public knowledge. Would Leona really be okay with being sentimental in front of various people he dislikes, especially Malleus and Vil? Would Idia feel safe unpacking his trauma and grief in front of his peers? Etc, etc, etc.
Secondly, I think that even if the OB boys were hypothetically at the point where they were okay sharing their backstories with the others, it wouldn’t change much about their immediate circumstances?? The OB boys generally don’t strike me as particularly… empathetic? At least not automatically empathetic. It’s something they would need to put effort into and actively work on. I imagine that they’d otherwise just pull a Zuko-style “That’s rough, buddy” or potentially even say something tactless that rubs their peers the wrong way (for example, not fully understanding the situation or even downplaying one another’s trauma). Riddle (someone with very little to no experience with social media and entertainment mediums) might not get how being a celebrity influences Vil’s life, Leona might insult Malleus (someone whom he has a bone to pick with), everyone might still be upset with Malleus for what he did to them in book 7. etc. Each OB boy only has their own experiences as the lens through which they see and interact with the world, and it’s not that easy for just anyone to put themselves in the shoes of another person.
Hearing a (for lack of a better term) traumadump doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll connect with it or understand just how grueling it was for the person who experienced said trauma. It would usually take a significant amount of time and reflection (ideally facilitated by a licensed mediator or professional) to digest those stories in group therapy and to make sure that everyone actually understands one another. A surface-level story retelling alone in most cases isn’t (again, for lack of a better term) “enough”, especially with how self-centered, emotionally immature, and different many of the OB boys are.
Think of empathy like a skill or a muscle. It isn’t innate. You need to develop it and train it, and not putting it to use can lead to atrophy. And given how arrogant and independent your usual NRC student is… yeah, it’s definitely going to be something for them all to work on.
If you want to think of it another way, it’s like how different players will react differently to reading the OB boys’s backstories. Someone who experienced bullying similar to Azul could more easily empathize with him while also not fully “getting” the full scope of other stories they hear. Maybe they can’t understand why Riddle still cares about the mother who mistreated him. Maybe they don’t see why Jamil sacrifices so much for his family. It doesn’t make the player a bad person for not understanding all the stories, it simply means they have a limited perspective. The same is true of the TWST characters; they, too, have incomplete points of views.
Maybe knowing their backstories in advance would change some scenes in small ways (such as book 6, when they split up and then butt heads with each other). They’d know where the other boys were coming from, and how that informs how they act in present day. However, I maintain that I think not much would change from the original. In a stressful situation like book 6, they could easily slip up and say something insensitive/make assumptions about their behavior based on their background/overlook or not even consider their background in the first place since they’re so focused on the current task. For example, Azul, feeling insulted that Riddle is underestimating him, could make a snide remark that just because his mother was a control freak doesn’t mean Riddle also has to be. Jamil could still see Leona as a spoiled prince because, despite being treated like an outcast, he still grew up in immense privilege as royalty. They can so easily fixate on their own interpretations of events that it colors how they perceive others, rather than how they can relate to others no matter how similar or dissimilar their experiences were.
In other ways, I think the OB boys sharing their backstories with one another stifles potentially meaningful development. Character growth in TWST isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon, and we’re here for the long haul. What does depositing all the backstories in their laps achieve for the OB boys? It artificially puts them in a situation to “better know” their peers rather than let it happen organically or allowing them to grow closer through their own efforts. Let’s look at the Deuce-Epel beach scene from book 5. Do you think it would have been as impactful of a scene if Epel explained his life in the countryside and how he got his traditional views on gender norms to Deuce? Personally, I don’t think so. The scene we currently have has them bonding and connecting through a shared activity (shouting at the sea), then having a heart-to-heart without a heavy backstory exposition. It’s through that, not explicit backstory sharing, that the two form an attachment and become genuine friends.
Those are all my thoughts!! ^^
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mirisss · 20 hours
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SKZ reaction to their s/o being a loud introvert (ISTP)
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SKZ x gn! ISTP reader
Thank you so much for the request 🐹! I hope you and everyone else enjoy it! 
I tried to write as best as I could and I hope I did it justice. 
I also apologize for switching POV/writing style in the middle of this but for some reason it felt better writing these two styles for the different reactions.
Warnings: None I think, maybe a slight mention of shyness, possibly a bit of anxiety if you squint. 
Wordcount ≈ 1k 
Bang Chan, Changbin, Felix, Han
These four would find it adorable that their s/o was comfortable enough around them to just act however they wanted to. When around strangers (Y/n) would be more quiet, keeping close to their boyfriend, and anxious about meeting new people. However, when it was just (Y/n) and Chan/Binnie/Felix/Han or maybe the other boys around, (Y/n) would be loud and outgoing, feeling safe and comfortable in their presence. Chan/Binnie/Felix/Han all felt their hearts swell with pride and love as they knew they were a safe space for their s/o, just as (Y/n) was for them. 
Han related so much to how (Y/n) acts as they are quite similar personality-wise, so he understands why they sometimes don’t talk as they usually would if someone new is around or if there’s a large group of people. Though he loves that both he and (Y/n) can be outgoing and loud with each other, while it might be harder once the two are out alone as both are introverted, usually Han finds some courage in himself to be the more extroverted one but sometimes (Y/n) is the one to do that. No matter who is the more extroverted one, they both need the other to stand close by, holding their hand, so they don’t have to do it all on their own. 
Changbin loves to talk and do things, he’s not afraid to make a fool of himself so he loves it when (Y/n) can act silly with him, whenever they are out and (Y/n) goes into quiet introvert mode, Changbin is their number 1 protector, always observing their body language and the second he sees them being uncomfortable, he’s picking up his jacket, ready to leave. 
Felix might be an extrovert but many times he’s quite calm, compared to some others in his group, but with (Y/n) he always matches their energy, ready to be whatever they need. If (Y/n) needs him to be super energetic and bouncing off the walls with them, he’ll do it, if (Y/n) needs some quiet time just cuddling and watching a movie, he’s on the couch with open arms ready for a movie marathon. He loves the moments when they’re being silly and loud together but as physical touch and quality time is a big thing for him as well, he truly cherishes their quiet time. 
Chan is a combination of all three boys above, he is a man who will do everything he can to make sure his s/o is safe, comfortable, and happy, so if that means (Y/n) distracting him from work sometimes with random conversations or sudden exclamations, or him being the one to make every phone call for (Y/n), he doesn’t mind it. As long as he gets to be with you, he’s happy to do anything. 
Minho, Seungmin, Hyunjin, Jeongin
These four are wildcards, sometimes you can’t keep them quiet, and other times they’ll just be sitting in the chaos observing the world around them. So having a s/o that is similar to them but also often quite loud when it’s just the two of them or when they are around friends they feel safe with, is shocking at times. It’s easy to forget that your s/o is an introvert when they have been screaming song into the mic at the karaoke for the last 2 hours without a care in the world, but then they are reminded of the introvert they love as they are too shy to order a drink on their own. 
Minho thinks it’s kind of cute and fits well with him, he’s often laid back, preferring to observe the chaos rather than participate in it, a man who loves doing acts of service so ordering a drink for you is just the perfect way for him to show his love for you. Seungmin is similar to Minho when it comes to the acts of service, of course, he’ll sing a song with you, oh you wanna sing it in a silly way, of course, he’ll do that, you want an iced tea and you’re too scared to order it on your own, he’s on it, he’ll even throw in an order for a dessert for you. 
Hyunjin doesn’t understand where you find the energy to run around chasing Han throughout the dorm as you both laugh loudly, he isn’t even sure how this chase started but he will sit on the couch, smiling to himself as he sees the wide smile and the sparkle in your eyes, he loves seeing you like this, just living your best life, and then once you’ve calmed down a little, you go over to him, sitting down in his lap as he wraps his arms around, putting his chin on your shoulder, “Hey love, having fun?” “Yeah, how about you?” “I’m having a wonderful time watching you laugh and smile like this, wish I could paint it, you look so beautiful,”
Jeongin loves running around with his members, acting like a child, what he loves even more than that is when you join in on the playing. Running around playing with water guns, spraying each other, laughing, screaming, other people around on the beach only sigh and shake their heads at the nine young adults acting like 5-year-olds. “Want to go buy some ice cream?” He asks to try and get some alone time with you, “Of course!” The two of you walk away to the ice cream truck, you excitedly look at all the flavors, deciding on (flavor), and Jeongin decided on his own favorite flavor, you stand in line, but once it is time to order, you shyly looked at Jeongin who instantly understood that you wished for him to order for you which he happily does all the time. 
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svt-rosalie · 2 days
Note
hi!! i was just wondering if you could go more in depth about yoongi and rosie’s relationship? they are such a sweet sibling duo and i’d love to read more about them!
. . . ♡ YOOJI ! ? 🐡 TIMELINE ★ ゚๑
ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ relationships! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪
© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!
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you're in the first sentence of this
non-stopping page, my brightest dream
rainbow, nct dream
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2013-2014 / Where It All Started.
Rosalie had attended a BTS fansign in 2013, when she got some free time after training
She loved meeting all the boys but her favorite was Yoongi
He was confused when she confessed that statement towards, yet she explained that his attitude and rapping skills drew her in and she’s excited to see what they become
She hoped they would make it big and all their dreams would come true
Rosie also confessed that she was training too at Pledis and hoped one day he could see her on stage and cheer her on like she does him
Their interaction was short but memorable
Yoongi spoke about her to his company and asked if they could get in contact with hers to see if it would be allowed for her to visit back and forth for training purposes
Pledis was skeptical, not wanting a trainee of theirs to get into a scandal before they even made a debut, but as long as their meetings were supervised then it was fine
(As if a 13 year old girl is thinking of anything other then school and her training?? Shut the fuck up Pledis)
The big brother roll set in very quickly for Yoongi
The two would spend time together with Yoongi teaching her skills with writing music and helping her rap even though she knew she wanted to be a singer
Knowing how to rap wasn’t a bad skill, as Yoongi would say
Every single time they would work together Rosalie took in every word Yoongi said like he hung the moon in the sky
Again — Rosalie was a fan of Yoongi and all the other members of BTS. So, it was crazy for her to be in the same room as the boy, gaining tips and tricks from him even though he was still a rookie
She just knew though that he and his member would be something one day, and she’d be right their supporting them!
2015-2018 / Debut, and More
After months of training and putting her blood, sweat and tears into everything that she does
Rosalie finally debuts
She hadn’t told a single soul that her groups first music video would be out on May 26 that year
Not even Yoongi, it was suppose to be a surprise
And surprised he was
Yoongi didn’t find out until Seventeen had a stage on the same day as BTS at the same place ( author note, i know run by bts was released in april 2015 so i feel like their schedules might have overlap but im not sure, so we are going to pretend they did!)
BTS has been busy that year, changing their concept and figuring out what said group was going to be with their newest comeback ‘Run’ — so Yoongi didn’t really have the chance to ask Rosalie many questions other then
‘How are you doing?’ ‘Are you eating correctly?’ ‘Is anyone being mean to you?’ ect ect
So it definitely threw the older boy off when the (at the time) 5’6 girl comes running at him and yelling “I debuted! I debuted! Aren’t you happy?”
Yoongi was very excited for her even if he didn’t show it well
Rosie knew though
She knew that he was proud and little scared for her as well in his eyes.
Eyes tell.
Yoongi and Rosie cheered each other on silently and behind the scenes
The older boy would send her flowers and words of encouragement when she had a showcase she’s was nervous to perform for or when she needed some uplifting words
Rosalie would show him pictures of her pulling his photos cards and would subtly promote BTS whenever she could.
The kpop community found out of their friendship when Yoongi released his solo mixtape under the name Agust D and they had a collab named ‘So Far Away’
Fans were surprised but at the same time not really that surprised, if that makes sense?
Everyone saw the subtly of their friendship, a senior and junior.
But it was more of older brother and younger sister.
Yoongi even though he would encourage her and give her advice, he still teased her.
They took the world by storm again when posting a photo together on BTS twitter with the caption “annoying little sister.”
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Since 2017 they’ve became known to the world as the nations favorite siblings
Even though they aren’t related!
2020-Present / A Lifetime Friendship
The continued to have a strong bond throughout the years
They released many collabs together such as the song Eight on Rosalie’s first solo album, People Pt.2 on Yoongi’s Second mixtape
The public loved and hold on to every interaction they have
Rosalie’s parents think of Yoongi as a son they dreamed for
Yes, they love their two daughters but having son wouldn’t be so bad
At least that’s what Rosie’s mother says every time the older boy visits
Rosalie calls Yoongi any chance she gets
You know how their are some girls that call their mom or dad when they are in the car or getting ready, that’s Rosalie with Yoongi
Constantly.
The amount of youtube complications made for Yoongi and Rosie’s friendship
Clips resurface every year such as . . .
A clip from one of Rosie’s vlog of her and Yoongi going strawberry picking and then Rosie forcing the boy to bake a strawberry cake from the fruit they picked that day
Or Yoongi being recorded supporting Rosie at her Solo debut showcase in Seoul
Clips of Rosalie’s collection go BTS album collection right next to her SEVENTEEN ones, she likes to show off the photo cards she collect
(She’s one of us guys)
The two have never argued, disagreements yes, but they never get angry with each other
Rosalie is so happy she has someone like Yoongi in her life and Yoongi feels the exact same.
Twin flames, the two will stick by each others side till the very end
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author note — this sucks, i’m sorry
taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @vlbi @iamawkwardandshy
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wickedscribbles · 2 days
Text
whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 4 (final)
Masterlist
Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch.3
Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine
Rating: Explicit
Tags: smut, fluff, pet names, biting, rimming, enthusiastic consent, multiple orgasms, messy sex, power bottom Logan, top Wade, teasing/banter, dirty talk, anal sex, mild genderplay
Word Count: 5K
If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.
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Wade has him on his back so fast the world tilts.
Logan’s willing to go where he wants, especially if that place is upside down on their mattress. He lands hard enough to bounce a little, huffing out a laugh, the sound ending in a pleased hum as Wade goes right back to kissing him. He wraps his legs around Wade’s waist, cups his face in his hands, wanting to touch him everywhere. This is the kind of prelude to sex that leaves him breathless; not too fast, not too slow, the anticipation of it all clinging to their skin like static.
Above him, Wade can’t seem to decide if he wants to keep kissing him – rough and enthusiastic – or talk about everything that's coming next.
“God, you looked so fucking hot punching that walking protozoa –” he gasps the words right into Logan’s mouth, and Logan can only grin back, chasing Wade’s lips for more. “Love it when you’re mean like that –”
“Oh, do you?”
“You know I do, smartass,” Wade says, his tone and his face so full of love that he might as well have called him angel. His mouth travels to the sensitive place under Logan’s jaw, teasing with teeth. “Will you tear someone in half for me next time? Will you tear me in half?”
Logan can’t stop fucking smiling. Even as he arches up and into the kisses tracing along the line of his throat, he’s smiling, feeling floaty and stupid and turned on.
“Not in the apartment, ya freak,” he manages.
He isn’t deterred. “Your freak,” Wade says. “And no, I'd wait til we took a little trip out to the woods like you want.”
“I'd like that.”
“Tearing me in half?” Wade's mouth pauses, hot and wet, at Logan's collarbone to ask the question.
“Takin’ a trip,” Logan corrects, panting a little now. Squirming for more attention, his cock hard trapped between their bodies.
“Oh, okay, okay. So we can screw in the woods without having to worry about staining the sheets? And play out the ‘fucking a lumberjack’ fantasy one of us may or may not be harboring?”
Logan raises an eyebrow at the lumberjack bit, but chooses to say nothing. Hey, whatever floats his boat. God knows they’ve done far stranger things.
“Sure. Or fuckin’ up the carpet. Been a minute since we had a real rollaround.”
Wade hums his agreement at that, trailing a delicate hand down the length of Logan’s bicep, then his forearm, until their fingertips are touching. Logan’s fingers twitch when he touches them, their hands intertwining. Willingly, he lets Wade bring his hand to his mouth – knows instantly what he wants him to do. He opens his mouth and takes Wade’s fingers on his tongue.
“Good boy,” Wade breathes, and Logan can feel himself leaking in his boxers, dripping a spot against the cotton. He pants out a shaky sort of noise in answer, maybe an agreement or disagreement to the praise, he doesn't know, can’t think. “Yeah, you know just what to do, don’t you?”
His lips close around what's in his mouth, tight, sucking at them just like he'd sucked Wade's cock this morning. Getting them sloppy, dribbling with spit, some of it stringing out of his mouth and into his facial hair. There are still days when they're in too big of a damn hurry to care, but this foreplay is erotic on its own, too.
For a while, they linger suspended in that moment, Wade straddling his lap and watching with fascinated eyes as his fingers move slowly in and out of Logan's mouth. They look at each other, into each other, long past the shyness.
The way Wade looks at him still makes Logan burn, two parts of him trying to run away from one another. It's nice to be wanted. It's terrifying to be wanted. He thinks that the fear of ruining this is getting quieter, though. He hopes.
“Wanna try something,” Wade says all at once, his face brightening with the type of mischief Logan knows only too well. “Here – lift up for a minute –”
Letting Wade’s fingers slide out of his mouth, he does as he's told, spreading his legs a little wider as Wade reaches behind them for one of the pillows. He places it just underneath Logan's hips, turning his attention back to his naked torso, raining kisses on his body.
“Need these off,” Wade murmurs, almost to himself, tugging at Logan's boxers. Breathing shakily, he obliges him, kicking them to the floor. His cock springs up as Wade sheds him pajamas as well, resting heavy above his abdomen in anticipation. He's fucking restless for something, anything, a flurry of past positions floating past his eyes like a slideshow.
For a few seconds, Logan thinks it's his turn to get sucked off, and he's definitely not complaining. Wade lavishes attention on the meeting of his hip and thigh, biting in just the right way to make Logan jump, smirking to himself when he earns an arch off the mattress for more. Logan's palm rests on his head, encouraging. Trusting.
But he bypasses Logan's cock like it's not there. Instead, he trails past, licking a stripe down his balls, pressing his scarred palms to Logan's thighs to spread them wider, and – oh. Oh okay. Wade’s hot breath hesitates over his hole for only an instant before his tongue is tracing the most delicate circles.
“F-fuck!”
Logan squirms at the unexpected sensation, curling his toes. He feels Wade's hands twitch where they rest on his inner thighs, and looks down to see him looking back.
“Okay?” He asks.
“Yeah, s’good, I just didn't know –” Logan answers, far too quickly. He blinks, a lot, in an effort to remember how to put one word in front of the other. “You can keep going. If you want.”
“If I want,” Wade repeats wryly. “Yeah, okay, champ.”
Only capable of swallowing hard in response, Logan lets his head fall back against the mattress, his whole body tense with the thought of what's going to happen next. He feels Wade's breath back at his hole, and God, it's so sensitive there, his tongue lapping at him as he spreads his legs further.
It's not quite like anything he's felt before. It's good.
“Relax,” comes Wade's voice, light with amusement before his fucking tongue goes right back to Logan's ass. His knee gets pushed up, opening him like an old paperback.
He's aware that his chest is rising and falling and rising and falling, a rapid in and out. The little circles that Wade traces with his tongue shift into broader strokes, something deeper. Logan moans with the change, thrusting up into nothing.
“Feels so fuckin’ good, Red,” he says softly, his voice coming out smaller than he thought it would. “I don’t, I haven’t –n-never –”
He’s aware that he doesn’t make any sense, but Wade doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it encourages him, a low hum drawn from the other man’s throat as he pulls away to look at him. His eyes are massive between the vee of Logan’s legs.
“Never ever? Am I actually taking a sweet, precious piece of your virginity?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan whines. “Keep going.”
Wade ducks back down, but not before babbling something about best day of his life and definitely going on Tumblr (and it had better not).
He can’t wait anymore for Wade to touch him, fuck him, whatever he’d planned to add to the mix. Getting eaten out is such a tease but he needs more and he needs it now. Logan grasps his cock, already slippery with pre-come, and starts a rhythm that has his head swimming immediately.
With a hiss, Wade digs his nails into the flesh of his thighs, groaning into him. Logan has a feeling that if his mouth were free to say something, he’d be giving him a string of encouragement. Shit, even imagining what Wade would be saying is enough to turn him on.
Moaning out something that strongly resembles Wade’s name buried in a sea of praise, Logan grinds back on his face, chasing more, so so so close.
That’s it, baby, the Wade in his head says. Actual Wade is panting hard against his ass now, getting sloppy. Come for me. Know you want to. Pretty pretty please.
Logan’s eyes roll back. He comes in frenetic bursts all over Wade’s face and shoulder, vaguely aware that now he has pulled away to praise him, kissing up and down Logan's thigh to watch the whole show. Logan's hands scrabble in the sheets, some pathetic little sound coming out of his throat.
“Peanut, Jesus fucking Christ…”
He says something like ungh in answer, looking down at Wade covered in his come. He is so hot with that satisfied smirk on his face, it’s ridiculous. And then he takes a finger and drags it across the side of his face, where there’s a streak of Logan’s spend, and pops it into his mouth.
Fuck, okay.
Barely done from their first round, Logan’s cock twitches again.
“Got me good, Pollock,” Wade comments, still wearing that crooked grin that makes his heart do shit that Logan would worry about if he didn’t know it was always healing. “You liked that, huh?”
It takes a lot to resist the urge to say no shit, but Logan manages. Instead, he runs his hand up and down Wade’s cheek, feeling his spend there all sticky, his mind swimming with sex-drunk praise (you’resofuckingprettywantyousobadithurts).
“Gonna sit on your dick now,” he says instead, and Wade backs off of him fast to allow that to happen.
Their places swapped, Logan palms at Wade’s cock tenderly, not missing the way Wade’s lips part on a soft little ah of need. Wade’s dick is damn near perfect, fulfilling every stupid fantasy Logan had before he worked up the guts to come knocking on his door and do something about it. Bottoming out on Wade still stretches him out so full and delicious, turns him dumb in a way that topping him doesn’t – though he won't say no to either.
He lifts his hips, situating Wade underneath him, when he sees two fingers trailing up his chest.
“Sure you’re wet enough?” Wade teases. “Could finger you a little more, just to be safe.”
Fingertips land on Logan’s mouth, and oh, does this man know how to push his luck. Faking a scowl, Logan takes Wade’s middle finger playfully between his teeth and bites down hard, breaking skin and crushing bone. Blood wells up all at once, his mouth full of copper, and Wade gasps in delight as his cock twitches against Logan’s inner thigh.
“There’s my kitty cat,” he praises, grinning like floodlights. Though broken, his finger is still hanging on after he pulls it away. “Aww, you didn't bite it off this time.”
“‘M feelin’ generous.”
“God!” Wade laughs as Logan guides himself down, trailing off halfway through whatever quip he’d cooked up. He grabs Logan's thighs, moaning at the sensation. “Fuck, princess, you’re still so fuckin’ tight –”
As Logan seats himself fully, he can tell that Wade’s already regretting not being on top. His mouth is doing that cute little scrunch thing it does when he gets impatient. But Logan loves seeing Wade all desperate, too horny to think straight, begging to fuck him or be fucked. If Logan weren’t just as desperate half the time, he’d make Wade wait ages for what he wants. Maybe someday they’ll cool down enough to try that.
Maybe.
Because despite having already come once already, Logan’s not in much better shape. Getting eaten out had eased the way for Wade inside him, but the stretch is still toeing the edge of pain and bliss. He knows as soon as they move, it’ll melt nicely into the latter.
“Hurry up and fuck me,” Wade says, pouting. He’s already breathless, his face flushed, gripping Logan’s thighs so hard that they’re bruising and healing and bruising again in a continuous cycle. It’s so hot. “Please please please, you’re so tight, I’m not gonna last, please.”
If that doesn’t light Logan up from the inside out, nothing will.
Pausing only to give him a yeah, okay, Logan grinds his hips down hard. Wade’s answering whine is like magic, high and keening, something that Logan’s going to replay in his mind over and over like the mixtapes high schoolers used to make for each other to flirt. He could probably pick out each individual note, tell you the crescendo, see the arc of it burned on the inside of his eyelids.
Wade looks like a porn star underneath him, mouth hanging open, eyes unfocused, hips meeting Logan’s perfectly every – fucking – time. Logan’s cock is flushed and hard between them again, slapping skin with every thrust.
“Logan,” Wade moans out.
Logan’s thrusts get just a little harder, a little faster. That tight tight sensation of climax sits somewhere in the bottom of his stomach, in reach if he worked for it, but he’s nowhere as close as Wade is. Wade’s delirious with it, right there sitting on the brink, and Logan feels like he’s on fire with how sexy he finds the man.
“Yeah?” Logan purrs back.
“So fuckin’ close, right there, gonna come –”
“I can tell.”
Later, Wade will give him shit for being such a tease – and tell him how hot it was. But for now, Logan pins both of Wade’s wrists in place, knowing he’ll try to cover his face. He wants to watch the whole show, not just the trailer. He lets his fingers trace through the other man’s, a part of him loving the added intimacy, and greedily takes in every second of Wade coming inside him.
“Lo-ogan, ah, shit shit shit –!”
Wade rolls his hips up slow and deep as he comes, head thrown back, filling Logan with warmth. Logan honest-to-God shivers, knowing his cock is drooling all over Wade’s stomach just from watching him. Playing with him a little, Logan gently thrusts down, stimulating him through the aftershocks just to watch him gasp and jolt. The little sounds he makes after coming, all fucked-out and satiated, are right up there for Logan with the usual sounds of sex.
(Huh. Maybe he likes Wade’s voice even more than he thought.)
Wade's face is still flushed when he can make eye contact again, and Logan only smiles at him, pleased with himself.
“No fair,” Wade grumbles.
Logan leans down to kiss him, bumping their foreheads together. They’re both covered in a fine sheen of sweat, among other things, and he lingers there to get Wade to kiss him back nice and slow. At this point, he really does feel drunk, heavy-limbed and satisfied without the theoretical liver damage.
“Don’t see what’s unfair about it,” Logan replies once they’ve broken away again. “Just gave me a damn good show on top of a phenomenal fuck. If I could reach my wallet right now, I’d tip ya.”
“Peanut, I swear on Fox Studio’s grave, if you keep pulling this kind of dialogue out of nowhere I’m going to have a stroke.” Wade turns to glare at a random corner of the room. “And you had better watch it. We did not talk about this before the chapter started.”
Threats to no one aside, Logan just shakes his head, unfazed. Something makes him want to keep talking, and he’s not sure if it’s how loose and warm his body feels, or the day they’ve had, or a combination of both.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you come,” he confesses, and Wade looks up at him with what can only be described as a mix of shock and horror.
“Oooookay, that’s enough for you, big guy –”
Wade struggles to get out from underneath him, attempting to lift his hips, but it’s no use. Logan sees it coming and shifts his weight more fully onto the mattress, effectively trapping him in place.
“Nope,” he says, unable to keep from sounding a little smug. “Think I’m gonna set my big adamantium ass right here until you learn to take a compliment.”
“Yeah? And what if I shoot my way out?”
It doesn’t surprise Logan in the slightest when Wade pulls the .45 from behind the headboard and aims it between his eyes. It does, however, annoy him. He sinks down further, aware that Wade’s gone soft, come slipping loose in a steady stream between their bodies onto the sheets.
“Rhonda’s gonna be pissed if she hears a gunshot, you know that. Slap us with another fee for damages, and I sure as shit ain’t coverin’ it just because you don’t want to hear how goddamn good you look.”
Wade’s finger plays with the trigger, stroking it as if in thought. His mouth scrunches. In all honesty, Logan wouldn’t mind a shot or two – it’s been a while since he’s taken one, and he knows Wade wouldn’t get him anywhere awful. They like each other well enough to spare major head wounds now, and that’s typically the only unspoken rule.
But to his surprise, Wade puts the gun back where he’d stashed it, flopping his head back on the pillows with a dramatic sigh.
“Fine, you monumental pain in my ass. What else do you want to tell me that’s so important?”
Logan pauses a moment, amused. He wasn’t quite sure he’d get this far. Half of him pictured this ending in an all-out bloodbath – the kind they’d have to replace the sheets and the carpet for. Maybe even have to paint the walls again. God, he wishes they didn’t live in a fucking apartment – or the city.
“You’re hot as hell, Wade,” he starts. Wade’s mouth is very scrunched, eyebrows drawn down in a similar pout. He looks like he’d rather be sitting on a stick of lit dynamite than listening to this. “What, you didn’t think I thought that? When we’ve been fuckin’ each other senseless for this long?”
“Just thought maybe I had a magic dick,” Wade mutters.
“Hah. Never said you don’t.”
Logan finally lets Wade’s cock slip out of him entirely, crawling up until his mouth is inches from Wade’s. The proximity makes the other man’s eyes dilate, breath catching, and Logan could live off of the thick smell of sweat and lust and come they’ve created in this room together.
He kisses Wade, quick, just a taste, and leaves him wanting more.
“You’re fuckin’ funny.”
Another kiss, this time a little deeper, Wade reaching up for him with half a grin on his face. He’s getting hard again – Logan can feel it against the muscles of his abdomen. The next time Wade's mouth collides with his, he brings teeth, taking Logan's bottom lip and pulling hard enough to make him moan.
“You’re – wild – to watch in a fight. Sweet – to the people you care about.”
They’re making out in earnest now, Logan gasping to get the words out as Wade drinks him up.
“You –uh!”
Caught off guard, Logan doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence as Wade flips him on his side. Nose to nose with one another now, he lets Wade continue his desperate barrage of kisses, hooking an arm around Logan’s neck. Their stiff cocks rub together, tantalizing friction, and Wade trails his lips to Logan’s ear.
“You like me all that much, get on your hands and knees.”
His voice is low and sultry in a way that lets Logan know that they’re far from done. Laughing softly, Logan does as he asks, Wade moving around him as if they’re different parts of the same body. Planting his palms on the mattress, he closes his eyes in anticipation. Wade slides his cock against his ass, the briefest tease, before placing himself at his entrance.
He doesn't waste time pushing back inside. Logan's body takes him easily, a breathless sound of excitement leaving him as Wade’s hands come to settle on his hips. Though he can't see Wade's face, he can feel the shift in energy – he can hear Wade's heart pumping fast, sense his heightened enthusiasm.
Settled inside Logan up to the hilt, Wade shifts his hips in a lazy figure eight.
“You ready?”
Logan nods, his uh-huh coming out like a groan of pleasure. He stares down at his own spread hands, the ruined sheets, biting his lip as Wade continues to tease him.
It doesn't last long. Less than a second passes between his confirmation and Wade’s first sharp thrust, bullying Logan forward before he can get his bearings. Wade wastes no time in setting a punishing rhythm, leaving him helpless to do anything but arch back into what he's getting.
He pants and moans every time Wade comes close to nailing that spot, feeling his claws start to slip out bit by bit. Their mattress topper is in bits and pieces under the cover of the sheet, more foam chunks than anything now, and he's about to make it a lot worse. Logan lets himself sink claws deep into the padding, leaning his face forward into the pillows to muffle the most embarrassing of the noises he's making.
Wade isn't letting him get away that easily.
“That's my fucking big boy,” he breathes, and Logan lights up with a blush bright enough to color his fucking chest. His cock jumps. “Take me so well every time, don't ya? Every – fuckin' – inch?”
Oh god oh fuck.
“Wade,” he says into the pillows, practically mewling out the word. Latched into the mattress with his claws anchoring him in place as Wade nails that incredible place right there oh fuck oh Christ. “Hah, fuck, you gotta slow down, or – I –”
“Or what, sweetheart?”
A clever hand reaches around to jerk Logan's cock, nice and deep the way he needs it, and Logan moans so deep in his throat it comes out more like a growl. Wade matches his thrusts in time, slower now but fuller, getting Logan to cry out louder than he'd ever admit he gets.
“You gotta slow down, Red,” Logan manages to repeat, but he already knows it's no use. “Gotta s-slow down, oh f-fuck!”
He comes much harder than he thought he would, hissing out a string of swears into the poor abused mattress. Coating the sheets below him, watching as some dribbles onto his thigh. Wade pushes his hips higher, fucking him through it like it's easy, his fingers brushing soothing circles as Logan shivers and spills and pants.
His whole body tingles with that sensitive sensation he's come to equate with powerfully good sex, with a certain look in Wade's eyes or a tone in his voice. He's going to feel this later, the honey-hum ache lingering in every muscle, but it's more than worth it.
“Flip over,” Logan insists after the moment has passed. “Wanna watch you come again.”
A cocky tsk from behind him catches Logan off guard. A gentle hand lands on the curve of his ass. Loving.
“Aw, peanut. Baby. Who said you were done?” Wade’s voice comes out light and cheerful, but they both know what the undercurrent holds.
Yeah, he's definitely in his bossy little top mood now, Logan thinks. Not that he doesn't find it incredibly hot. But it's also fun to be a bit of a brat every once and a while.
“Don't think I can,” he tries, sliding his claws out of the mattress but settling firmly. “C'mon, Wade. Fuck me ‘til you finish.” Logan hesitates. “Please?”
An equally long pause. He can almost hear Wade thinking.
“Nahhh,” he decides. “You can do one more for me, then I'll fill you up until you fucking drip.”
This time, the pointed gap in the air is for Logan to really say no, use a safe word, if he needs to. And he definitely doesn't need to, doesn't want to. Besides, he's never been one to back away from a challenge, especially if it's Wade who's handing it out.
“Yes, sir,” Logan says mockingly, lifting his ass back up in the air.
He hears Wade make a strangled little noise of want before gripping his ass tight.
“Good fucking girl,” he growls, pushing Logan down until he's flat on his stomach on the bed.
Logan’s pretty sure he whines at that. It’s hard to tell anymore.
To say that the sheets are saturated in come would be an understatement at this point, but Logan can't focus on that as much as he's focusing on getting hard again, Wade’s teeth sinking deep into the side of his neck. The pain is nothing compared to the pleasure, a drop of water in the ocean – and Logan’s fucking dying of thirst.
He breaks the skin. Granted, it takes a little more effort for him to do it than it does for Logan, but he doesn’t mind the extra gnashing around. Chewing on his neck like it’s a goddamned squeaky toy. He’s flattered by it, in a way, that Wade would do all that just to spill blood for sex.
Wade’s tongue laps at the ring of blood he’s produced as he presses into his ass again, slow, and Logan can tell that he’s trying to hold back. To really spoil him with this extra orgasm, instead of keeping it all tit for tat. He doesn’t know why – he’ll pester him later about it and only get ‘cause I love you and I wanted to, you fuckin’ beefslab of a man, in answer.
But right now, Wade’s hot, panting mouth trails to Logan’s ear, and his teeth pull on the lobe, hard. Logan bares his neck further with a near silent intake of breath, wordless permission, and that’s all that Wade needs. Without further ado, Wade’s teeth seize around the loose cartilage and bite, ripping it off in a gush of blood.
“Fuck –!” Logan hisses, feeling the warmth of it trickle down on the sheets near his face.
“I’m trying my best, dollface,” Wade says sweetly in reply. Logan wishes he could see him. “You have no idea how good you look like that, all spread out like a two dollar whore on nickel night. Really putting my stamina to the test.”
He sighs, moving his hips so gently he may as well not be moving them at all. Despite insisting that Wade come a final time so that they could be finished with the whole romp, Logan finds himself growing impatient. There’s blood in it for him now, literally, and his cock is throbbing where it’s trapped against his stomach and the bed.
“But when a Scout makes a promise, they keep a promise. Right?”
“I promise you’re a pain in my ass,” Logan huffs. “Wade, c’mon, if you’re gonna fuck me then fuck me, don’t just –”
The words screw around are a little lost in the sudden snapping of Wade’s hips. Logan gasps instead, taken off guard by the instant ferocity of it. One of Wade’s hands grips a fistful of Logan’s hair, rough, incredible, while the other palm stays firm at his hip, holding them both in place.
“What were you saying, honey badger?” Though the words are innocent, Wade’s voice hits his (regenerating) ear in a mocking growl, all exertion.
Logan can’t even form a fucking sentence, let alone a smartass response. Wade knows him well enough, is smart enough to know exactly where his prostate is, how deep to press and for how long. He can play his body like an instrument few have taken the time to learn, let alone master.
Sinking his claws back into the mattress, scrabbling for any sort of purchase, Logan presses his face into the pillows with a desperate sound. He wants to tell Wade how good it feels, that he’s nailing his prostate just right, stirring up a heat inside of him that no one’s ever quite hit before, so good he wants to sob, but all he can do is lie there ass up and gasp out with every thrust. He tries to match Wade’s pace, hold the rhythm.
“Am I nailing your g-spot, baby?” Wade purrs, and something like scandal and delight war for attention in Logan’s mind. “Yeah, I feel you, pussy so fuckin’ tight.”
“Wade, o-oh Christ,” he says, breath hitching. Tears sting the corners of his eyes and he’s torn between so many points of pleasure and his cock is gliding as Wade pushes him forward, he’s going to come again, just as Wade had said he would – “ – Wade, Wade, Wade –”
He’s still chanting Wade’s name, voice rising an octave or so, as orgasm hits him like a goddamn train. The warmth of it coats his belly and chest, his face muffled deep into the pillows – tears and spit dampening the material. He arches back hard as Wade thrusts a handful of times to finish not long behind him.
“Fuck,” Wade says under his breath. “Kitty cat, oh fuck yes.”
The quiet that falls after, only their combined breath, is so deep and peaceful that Logan passes out almost right away. He isn’t sure how long Wade lets him sleep – only that he wakes up to his shoulder being shaken gently, Wade standing beside the bed with a fond smirk on his face.
“You’re gonna be stuck to the bed if you stay there like that, cowboy,” he tells him, offering a hand to help him up. “C’mon. Let’s get clean.”
Logan makes a grumpy sort of sound, too comfortable to want to move. “Only if we get to sleep all day tomorrow.”
Wade’s face brightens at the idea. “Fuck yeah – pile all the blankets on the couch and order takeout?”
It sounds like a dream come true.
“Yeah.”
Logan takes his hand. Once they’re clean, with the sheets and blankets replaced, it’s the deepest and most comfortable sleep of his life.
52 notes · View notes
madelynraemunson · 3 days
Text
HEY MADDY, WHAT’S ON TV? 📺
𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 (…𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬) part 1/2
🥡 steddie x freaky friday fanfiction • RATED: NC-17 🥡
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SUMMARY: Dustin’s science experiment goes horribly wrong and his two ‘bickering besties’ have to suffer the consequences.
WORD COUNT: 11.4k words
CONTENTS CONTAIN: (EASTER) EGGS, WHEAT, METAL, PARALLELISMS, A PINCH OF COMEDY, ANGST, AND LOTS OF SWEARING
ALLERGENS: CHEESY, CORN(Y), SHELLFISH (sorry eddie)
author's note: might put this on ao3 idk this one's a big boi.... hey y'all! i’m a little late to the steddie body swap train, but have arrived nonetheless! also i’m so stoked that jamie lee curtis and lindsay lohan are currently working on a freaky friday 2!! one of my fave childhood movies and i can’t believe we’re getting a parte dos :,) also, jake alan = corroded coffin in this AU
🥠
“Jesus Chr— what did you do to my hair?!”
“What did you do to MINE?!”
Perhaps a rewind is necessary. Metaphorically, of course. Time travel’s not real! ;)
      ◄ ◄ ◄  R E W I N D  🎞️
The year is 1989. Camp Knowhere. And since it’s the last year before he ages out of summer camp, Dustin Henderson is determined to 'WOW' everyone with his newest invention.
“They’re kinda like boner pills.”
“Oh...! WOW...?”
It’s not the weirdest thing Steve's heard come out of Dustin's mouth. In fact, he's practically immune to insanity at this point, having been surrounded by hormone-driven teenagers for a month and a half straight.
“Look I know, it sounds crazy,” Dustin pleads. “But imagine being able to walk a mile in someone's shoes just by eating a cookie. They'd be like the Viagras of empathy!"
Again, not the weirdest thing Dustin has said. 
And for as long as Curly keeps hanging out with Eddie Munson, his Other Older Male Friend (O.O.M.F.) constantly like he has been all summer, it certainly won’t be the last.
Being a volunteer camp counselor hasn’t panned out as expected for Steve Harrington. 
For the past six weeks, Dustin has spent most of his time locked in his cabin trying to perfect his new creation. But he's been MIA for so long, Steve hasn’t been able to teach him how to start a fire, pitch a tent, or even pick Dustin's brain about being his guest for Show and Tell. 
Making s’mores. Canoeing. Telling scary stories in the dark. Dustin and Steve are missing out on actual summer activities. The real reason he signed up to be counselor in the first place. 
But you know who has been able to spend time with Dustin?
"Eddie and I spent almost every night trying to come up with good fortunes," Henderson boasts.
Not the counselor, but the Certified Loiterer.
Steve bitterly kisses his teeth. “That’s awesome, man! But hey, speaking of spending—"
"They are so clever too. You gotta hear 'em!"
"I'm sure they are! But now that you're practically finished, I was sorta hoping—"
“AND,” Dustin adds. “if you get a good one you can add ‘in bed’ after for some comic relief.”
Steve crosses his arms as he finds himself fading back into silence.
“You are destined for great adventures…in bed,” Curly smirks, waving a fortune in Steve’s face. “You will be met with great luck this week... in bed. You are a pleasure to have around…in bed.”
“Agh, please tell me one of Harrington’s lays said that,” comes a voice. “Otherwise this interaction is very concerning.”
Dustin gasps. “EDDIE!”
Speaking of The Devil.
Like nails on a chalkboard, in walks Eddie Munson with his fucked up voice, fucked up rep, fucked up hair, and a fucked up sense of humor to match.
“Hey, Henderson,” Eddie gives a curt nod. “Hey, Steve.”
“Munson.”
“I was just telling Steve about my fortune cookies,” says Dustin. “I can’t wait to win people’s hearts over at Show and Tell, along with my spotlight secret weapon.”
“What’s your spotlight secret weapon?” Steve inquires.
“You’re looking at him,” Eddie quips. “I’m Dustin’s music act for his Show and Tell.”
There’s a pang in Steve’s heart that he wishes wasn’t there. All summer, the Retired Cub Scout had been secretly hoping that Dustin would ask him to be his Show and Tell buddy. He had so many survival skills up his sleeve that he wanted the little twerps to know before they age out. 
But the stars had other plans, he supposes.
“My friend’s friend’s dad is a music scout for Cardinal Records,” Dustin explains. “If he shows up and sees Eddie play, Corroded Coffin may have a chance!”
“Yup,” Eddie nods. “We’re performing our new song Take Me Away.”
He hands Steve a piece of crinkled paper from his back pocket, to which Steve reads after clearing the lump marinating in his throat.
“Don’t wanna grow up, I wanna get out. Hey, take me away,” Steve reads.
“Aren’t the lyrics so metal?!” Dustin beams in admiration.
“They’re uh, very edgy…” Steve shrugs.
“And incredibly fitting, when you consider the circumstances. Just wait ‘til you hear Eddie and his band perform it!”
“I think I’ll be busy with camp duties...” Steve grimaces, handing the sheet back over to Eddie. “Sorry.”
“No worries, they will just perform in your garage. They still gotta practice. Been needing another place to do so too."
Steve's eyes widen.
“What?!” he shakes his head. “Absolutely not. When did we agree on this?”
“Uh, beginning of summer?" Dustin points out. "You said you’d be willing to accommodate any of my needs. Especially since my mom’s gone to her spicy book retreat and basically threw away keys to the house.”
Steve now recalls telling Dustin that. But nowhere did it say babysitting his replacement would be in the cards.
"I'm sorry Harrington, I know I'm kinda butting in…" Eddie acknowledges.
Finally, something he and Steve can agree on.
"But we're kinda desperate at the moment, so it would mean the world. You won't even know we're there."
“It’s still no!” Harrington blubbers. “Okay? With the loud music and Eddie’s screaming, I’ll have the Loch Nora book club moms with pitchforks at my door. We have a reputation to uphold.”
“Who’s to say the Loch Nora moms don’t want in on all the angsty fun?” Eddie smirks. “Corroded Coffin’s an acquired taste, but I’m sure your… progressive… neighborhood wouldn’t mind.”
"It's not that," Steve shakes his head. "Even though we’re ‘progressive’, my neighborhood is still very much suburban-families-with-young-kids. They'd call the cops on us, for sure."
But Loch Nora was just a decoy for Steve’s true feelings. If everyone sees how cool Eddie is, they’re going to make him their Comfort Grown Up. Then where would Steve go?
Especially if they caught a glimpse of those big, brown eyes and the way they glisten in the amber sunset. And apparently Dustin’s caught wind of this Munson Magic as well; because not too long after, he’s imitating Eddie, the coercion-via-cuteness factor ramping higher on his part. And how could Steve say no to his lil face?
“Just this one time, Steve?” Dustin begs. “Please, please, pleaaase?”
“Dustin…” Steve shakes his head. 
“Pleaaase,” a pouty Eddie chimes in, slyly gazing up at Steve through his long, batty lashes. “We’ll behave, Stevie. We promise.”
But Harrington is standing his ground. Eddie already stole his best friend away from him. His gig. His spot at the Cool Adults table. Did he want Harrington’s life too?
“NO!” Steve insists. "NO!"
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“YEAAAH!” Eddie croaks into the microphone while he seductively strums at his guitar. “YEEEEAAAHHHH!”
Performing in Steve’s garage was a YES-go after all. Especially if free bud has anything to do with it.
"This dude and his band are pretty good," Argyle comments as he takes a long, savoring drag from his hefty blunt. "Corroded Coffin, man. They're gonna be big one day."
"Just wait til you hear his guitar solo," Jonathan adds. "Eddie's been working on it all summer for Dustin’s show.”
The walls of the Harrington household are forced to withstand a migraine-inducing bass while everyone — but Steve —  jams out, losing themselves in a song about wanting to stay young forever.
“Don’t wanna grow up, I want to get out. Hey! Take me away…”
Jealousy festers within the host as he watches, taking in the sight of an awestruck Dustin playing his air guitar alongside Eddie, resonating with the lyrics the way he passionately yells,
“I wanna shout out, ‘take me away…away away away’…”
“Someone take me away,” Harrington’s inner monologue spews.
But it’s not that Steve hates the song, nor is he having a miserable time with everybody. It’s not that he hates Eddie or his stupid raspy voice, or the way he makes the guitar sing with every calculated twiddle of his fingers and every provocative buckling of his knees. In fact, it’s the opposite. Steve just didn’t want to admit that Dustin’s O.O.M.F. — and the other members of Corroded Coffin — were actually… pretty cool. 
And judging by the fact that Eddie was most likely Dustin’s first choice for the talent show, there was a cornier, more ominous second thing that Steve isn’t willing to admit: it’s that the exclusion really hurts him.
“Same old SHIT,” Eddie sings. “Never ends.”
“WHOA!” Harrington exclaims, waving his disapproving hands in the air.
The band stops the song immediately, the negative feedback from the amp plaguing the air while they stare around in confusion.
“What?” Eddie demands.
Any chance there was for Steve to try to humble 'The Freak', he took. And clearly this time around, there was no hesitation.
“You’re not really gonna say the S word when you perform at Show and Tell, are you?”
“The S word?” Munson retorts. “What, is this preschool?”
Ba-dum-tss! goes the drummer.
"Gareth," Eddie scowls.
Gareth Emerson digresses with a sheepish shrug.
“No," Steve shakes his head. "But it’s still a summer camp for kids.”
Eddie chuckles at this. “Come on, Harrington. Don’t act like YOU weren’t cussing up a storm at their age. The kids are all in their rebellious phase anyways. They’re gonna love it.”
Eddie’s known Steve since elementary school. This is the same guy who held swear contests, who cussed because he thought it made him look ‘mature’. The same guy that used to call women “bitches”. The same guy who almost got suspended because he and Tommy H. were yelling out slurs during an assembly, but luckily his superintendent mom was there to pull some strings to simmer it down to one afternoon of detention.
Harrington couldn’t possibly choose now to care about profanities.
“I’d rather you not bend the rules of Camp Knowhere.”
Bend the rules?!
It doesn’t take too long for Eddie to figure out that the issue goes beyond Camp Knowhere. In fact, both of Dustin’s O.O.M.F.s know that. 
 “Why the sudden change of character, Harrington?” Eddie crosses his arms. “Huh? After all these years?”
"All these years, what do you mean all these years?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
Captivated, nosy eyes bounce back and forth between the two as they argue... on and on and on and on.
“This happens every time,” Jonathan hisses to Robin at a low whisper so that they don’t hear. “Do you think they ever get tired of it?”
"I actually don't know what you mean," Steve counters. "And quite frankly, I feel like you don't seem to really know me at all."
“Hey, I’m just following your lead,” Eddie shrugs. “You never took time to get to know ME when we were in school. Unless I had something you and your friends wanted of course.”
“So all of this is MY fault?”
“I never said it was.”
It’s almost ritualistic at this point, the arguing. 
Just then, Gareth starts up again, issuing a theatrical drumroll to ease the tension. It only seems to make it worse, judging by how Eddie and Steve hiss at him immediately.
“GARETH!” “EMERSON!” 
The drummer refrains once more. 
Steve is quick to pick up where they left off. “I can read between the lines.”
“Crazy thing to say for someone who’s paid people to write his book reports.”  
“I’m just…looking out for everyone, okay?” Steve snaps, reverting the conversation back to the kids. “The children might not care, but it may look bad on the counselors. And I like my summer gig, spending time with my best friend. I don’t wanna jeopardize it.”
A self-serving response. Eddie knew to not put it past Harrington.
Regardless, Eddie chooses to comply. Not to give Steve what he wants, but because Dustin's happiness is on the line. And if his best friend is happy and Corroded Coffin gets a record deal, then Eddie wouldn’t have to deal with Steve Harrington or Hawkins much longer. 
The band starts up again and, this time, remains uninterrupted. 
Meanwhile, Steve sulks back in his seat, unable to pinpoint why he felt like the issue wasn’t resolved. But he soon realizes that for as long as Eddie Munson is part of the equation, the problem will remain a constant.
“Same old stuff,” Eddie bitterly corrects himself. “Never ends.”
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“Fortune cookie, anyone?”
Two hours feel like days when everyone is stoned. And given that everyone’s too tired (and high) to drive themselves home, a sleepover at Steve’s quickly becomes inevitable. 
“Did we get the same fortune?” Jonathan asks Argyle.
“No, we didn’t,” he shakes his head. “Guess we’re not feeling sorry for each other tonight.”
Dustin chuckles.
“What are we feeling tonight? I’m thinking pizza.”
Leaving everyone else to decide on munchies, Steve and Eddie appoint themselves as the Designated Clean-Up Crew, searching for and rounding up any trash they see laying around.
“So, what are you up to nowadays?” Steve questions. “Since we graduated high school.”
“Oh, same old, same old,” Eddie offers a tense chuckle. “Still in The Biz, but the money’s good. Thankfully this time I’m doing it without my pops around.”
It strikes a nerve in Steve. He’d give anything to have his dad around. 
He also wouldn’t be proud to be in the same position as he was in high school. Didn’t Eddie want to grow as a person?
“That’s amaziiing.” Steve lies.
Uncomfortable now, Eddie clears his throat, shifting his attention back to Steve so that he can eat his own words.
“What about you? What’s The Hair been up to?”
“I work at Family Video and then help out at camp right after.”
“Try bringing that to the career fair,” Eddie scoffs jokingly.
“Sorry?”
“I said great gig you got there,” Munson perjures.
Their gazes meet for a brief, charged moment before quickly averting. 
Eddie watches Steve with both curiosity and disdain. 
This is who his best buddy is seeing on the side? It’s hard for Eddie to think of anything Dustin and Steve could possibly have in common. What would they even talk about? Maybe the new Brook Shields movie, hair gel, and their favorite ice cream flavors, but that’s just about it. And Steve Harrington doesn’t seem like the best influence for Dustin anyways.
Steve’s eyes flicker towards Eddie, trying to hide his scrutiny behind a thinly veiled expression of disinterest. 
He notes the way Eddie’s band tee has seen better days, the sleeves ripped and the print faded, and the way he absolutely reeks of Mary Jane and indistinct rubber from a Spirit Halloween store. If Dustin brought Eddie home to Mrs. Henderson, she’d probably stroke out. 
Just then, a very intoxicated Robin chimes in.
“Duuude, Eddie. It’d be awesome if Coffin got this gig.”
“Oh, I know right?” Eddie lights up immediately. “We’d be out of this rugged town once and for all and living life in the big city.”
The distaste for Eddie only amplifies with that statement. 
All of Steve’s life, he’s had nothing but good experiences in Hawkins. To have a “rough” upbringing, you had to be looking for trouble. Which is something Eddie and his father, Al seemed to have been doing since the beginning of time. 
“What’s so rugged about Hawkins?” Steve challenges Eddie.
“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Eddie mutters.
“I would, actually,” Steve taps his feet impatiently. “Go on, tell the class, Eddie. What is so rough-and-tough about this part of town?”
Eddie knows Steve is trying to set him up. He thinks for a moment, carefully crafting his words before speaking.
“There’s just…” Eddie says with trepidation. “A lack of equal opportunity to succeed. Always has been. But in the city, opportunity is everywhere. For everyone. Indy would be a perfect, clean slate for us.”
It’s like a sock to the face. 
Lack of opportunity? Eddie is most definitely looking for problems now. If he wouldn’t consider Steve being nice enough to lend him his garage — even when he didn’t like him — an ‘opportunity’ to succeed, then what would he consider?
“I mean, sure. Hawkins has issues like any other city, but I think there are equal opportunities for everyone,” Harrington protests. 
“Very rich coming from you, Suburbia.”
“Uh oh,” Dustin mutters.
Now Steve is pissed. 
Does Munson think that just because Steve lives in a nice house he’s never had problems in his life? With that logic, Eddie isn’t going to get himself very far. It’s very evident now, given where he currently is.
“Why can’t you accept the fact that life comes for others too?!” Steve spits. “Life is also hard for me, you know!”
“Guys…” Dustin starts.
A bitter laugh expels from the pit of Eddie’s stomach.
“Life is hard for you?!” Eddie exclaims. “It’s hard for you? How can life be that hard? Hey, I’m Steve Harrington. My life consists of Daddy’s money, wearing hair pomade to the ceiling and getting rejected by girls!”
“Hey, why don’t we play that one song again!” Jonathan suggests. “You know the take me away, away, away, away, away!”
But Steve and Eddie are way too locked in, committed to tearing each other to bits because the other one started it. Eddie wanted to play that game huh?
“Well all YOU know is complaining about the consequences of your own actions!” Steve spews in return. “Oh look, I’m Eddie Munson, I’m painfully self-unaware, I’m inconsiderate of everyone around me, and I commit petty crimes then wonder why the cops hate me. AND I still live with my uncle – AT MY BIG AGE.”
“YOU STILL LIVE WITH YOUR PARENTS, HOW IS THAT ANY DIFFERENT?”
“AND! You’re as loud as your guitar. NEW-NEW-NEW-NEWWW. How about you evaluate your priorities if you want a good life, Munson? And make sure you at least have some ammo under your belt before coming for me.”
“Wow,” Eddie laughs. “I don’t know anyone more tone deaf. You think my walk of life was a choice?! Not everyone was handed everything on a silver platter, Steve. Not everyone’s lives are perfect like yours!”
“Sweethearts, anybody?!” Robin butts in, desperately waving the candies in the air. “You are what you eat, and everyone in this room is VERY, VERY SWEET!”
But the boys are only getting started. If this is Robin’s version of sweet, she was about to know what sour is real quick.
“You think my life is perfect?! At least you have a father figure.”
“I want you to assess the room we’re in, Harrington,” Eddie implores. “Family must love you a lot if they’re letting you throw parties and use drugs that a loser like me was nice enough to hook you up with.”
“Leave what I do outside of camp out of this! You know, as a counselor I’m not sure I like my kids hanging out with some loitering criminal all the damn time.”
“Not sure I like them hanging out with someone who acts like an overbearing, insufferable parent.”
“At least I have parents.”
Simultaneous gasps fill the room. 
The color drains from Steve’s face when he realizes the damage he’s done. He watches as Eddie seemingly deflates, shrinking himself down at the shoulders, and then sulking in place. A blank stare overcasts his eyes, lips desperately trying not to quiver while in front of an involuntary audience. 
“That was not cool,” Steve breathes. “I’m sorry.”
But Eddie is past the point of forgiveness. And caring. Steve’s already embarrassed the fuck out of him, so what’s Dignity at this point? Steve won. Whatever game he was playing.
“You’re right, Steve,” Eddie nods, bitterly. “You have everything I want. So why can’t you just give me this one thing?”
Steve really fucked up this time. He doesn’t even know why he even said that. It isn’t necessarily a brag that Steve has parents if they aren’t active in his life. Did he really want the last word so badly, he willingly let his anger steer the direction of the conversation? Sure, Eddie has backed off now, but the thick veil of suppressed tears did not make it worth it.
“Here,” Eddie quips as he chucks Dustin’s invention at Steve’s chest. “You win. You want a cookie for it?”
Before leaving the room, Eddie helps himself to one as well. Steve watches ashamed as Eddie storms away, not seeming to care who he bumps into on his way out. With the intention to make amends, Steve darts after Eddie, following him to the bathroom only to have the door slammed in his face.
“Eddie!” Steve knocks. “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I thought I’d gotten over my anger issues and pettiness, so I don’t know why I said all that. It’s something I need to work on, for sure.”
No response. Steve tries again.
“You guys sound really good…” he musters. “I wish I had the courage to put myself out there like that.”
Steve gently taps the door with two fingers now. 
“Eddie?”
On the other side of the wall, Eddie is angrily wiping away his tears, upset at himself for letting someone who wears women’s hairspray and Tiger Beat cologne get under his skin. 
Giving up now, Steve sighs to himself and turns around to prop his back against the door. And in case Eddie decides to come back out, Steve decides to wait a while longer, reading the fortune from his fortune cookie in the meantime. 
“A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another’s eyes. When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.”
“What could that possibly mean?” Steve thinks to himself as he takes a bite from the cookie. 
And at the same time on the other side, Eddie also cracks open his cookie. A nice little dessert with some kind words are sure to make him feel better. He reads his fortune.
“A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another’s eyes. When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.”
“…in bed,” he adds with a chuckle.
Just then the ground begins to rumble. 
The sudden JOLT causes Eddie to drop his cookie and latch onto the sink for stability. Meanwhile, Former Cub Scout Steve who knows everything about Stop-Drop-and-Roll dives for the nearest piece of furniture, crawling underneath to protect himself from any debris that may fall onto him.
“EVERYONE GET DOWN!”
“JESUS CHRIST!” Eddie yells.
Hawkins doesn’t get many earthquakes. But according to the news, Roane County was due for a big one. This could well be it. 
But as fast as the earthquake happens, it fades away. And next thing Eddie knows, he’s taking deep breaths, gathering his composure before he swings open that door. 
“Shit — Harrington, are you okay?”
Steve scans the room, looking around for any debris that may block his plight towards safety. 
“Yeah I’m fine, thanks Munson,” Steve gulps. He allows Eddie’s firm hand to hoist him up. “Just a bit shaken up. Are you okay?”
Eddie nods his head rapidly. “I’m fine too,” he insists. “I’m just worried about everyone else.”
Running back over to the garage now, a frantic Steve and Eddie call out to their friends to make sure they’re okay. But when they arrive, they’re shocked to see everyone conversing, laughing, and ordering pizza, almost as if nothing had ever happened.
Steve coughs to make his presence known. “Did you guys feel that?”
Everyone turns to them.
“Feel what?” Dustin inquires.
“There was an earthquake.”
“No, there wasn’t?” Robin cocks an eyebrow.
“Yes there was!” Eddie insists in agreement with Steve.
“Are you sure?” “An earthquake?”
“There wasn’t an earthquake.”
“What earthquake?”
“A chicken bake?” Argyle questions, clearly high as shit.
“An earthquake,” Jonathan repeats for him.
“An Earth Cake?!”
“QUAKE!” Jonathan hollers. “EARTHQUAKE!”
“EARTHQUAKE?!” the startled stoner yelps.
“No no no!” everyone yells out, doing their best to contain Argyle’s panic. “No, no, no!”
———
“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington. I wish I could hate you.”
Eddie winces as his neck partially kinks, due to the fact that Steve was too short-fused to get him a pillow for tonight.
At least the futon is comfortable. After flopping around like a fish out of water for a few minutes, Eddie finally feels completely relaxed. And as he flips through his mental catalog of Dream Scenarios, the aspiring rockstar begins to drift off to Dreamland, envisioning his guitar solo and jamming out with his favorite herd of sheep.
Meanwhile upstairs, Steve is too emotionally uncomfortable to hit the hay.
“Get a grip, Munson,” Steve grumbles, angry at the thought of the freeloader below him. “If you stopped thinking the world is out to get you, maybe you’d actually see some progress in your life.”
After one last fluffing of his pillow, Steve reaches into his drawer and pops a gummy into his mouth, bracing himself for more Camp Knowhere shenanigans that lie ahead and having to deal with the Freakazoid-With-a-Victim-Complex in the morning. 
12:00 MIDNIGHT
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ [insert creepy, grandfather clock noises here]
8:00 AM
Obnoxious, fluffy duvet covers stir Eddie awake.
Maybe Steve did come with some goodies after all.
Munson begins to execute his morning routine: a gangly-limbed stretch followed by an exaggerated bellow and blissful smacking of his lips.
BONK.
A lamp on the nightstand interrupts his ritual. It is then that Eddie realizes.
He’s in a bedroom. 
“What the—” Munson mutters.
Sitting up slowly now, Eddie takes a moment to assess the room around him.
Trophies and medals. Cologne and hair gel. A work desk with a basketball net over it, and a Tommy Hilfiger pop-up shop in the closet.
He’s in Steve’s room.
But where is Steve?
Curious about the time and day, Eddie instinctively goes to consult his watch that normally rests on his wrist.
It’s not there. 
Eddie then looks at his hands…his palms… Not a single blister, callous or hangnail. Those are not his hands.
“Those aren’t mine…” he thinks to himself.
Eddie then runs some stressed fingers through his hair, only to discover that its length is half of what it was when he fell asleep last night.
“That’s not mine either.”
Eddie shoots up immediately. When he finds himself standing, Eddie notices his food belly is gone, and that six pack abs have taken its place. Eddie then stares down at his feet, which are now exponentially larger. And hairier. And his thighs, now they’re a lot bulkier.
Suddenly Eddie’s hands explore his thighs, grazing his quads shortly before going to grope the two plump mounds of tissue behind him, both cheeks comparably twice the surface area of his palms!
“That’s DEFINITELY not mine.”
Absolutely panicked now, Eddie releases his grip on the butt that isn’t his and dashes out the room.
It appears that he is somehow not in his body. And the only person in Loch Nora with a dump truck for an ass — that Eddie knows of — is Steve Harrington.
But if he's Steve, then where is Eddie’s body?
The couch.
Eddie bolts over to Steve’s living room in search of his corpse. And to his surprise, he does find himself there, the chest that was his – but not his – at the same time rising and depressing as he watches himself sleep. 
“Christ if that’s not Steve in there, then I’m dead,” Eddie thinks to himself. “And quite frankly, I don’t know which one is worse.” 
Eddie clears his throat.
"H-hello? Steve?”
Nothing.
“Steve?” Eddie attempts again. “Hey. Steve. It’s Eddie. Wake up!”
Nothing.
“This is an emergency, Steve. I need you to wake up now, please.”
He gets a good snore out of the entity. Completely frustrated now, Eddie does not hold back.
"This is alarming, Steve! WAKE UP!”
Eddie unearths the bottom half of Steve's…his… body by pushing the blanket aside. When he tugs at his legs, Presumably Steve retaliates, grabbing onto the arms of the sofa to keep him in place.
“EARTH. TO. KING. STEVE!” Eddie screams.
"Whaaat, dude?!" the host in Eddie’s body grumpily demands.
"Aha! So you are Steve!"
"Duh, who the fuck else?" It demands. "Are you still high?"
"If I was, then that would better explain this."
Steve must’ve really done too much last night. Because for a while there, the person who he assumed was Eddie sounded a heck of a lot like him.
"That’s fucking weird," Steve shakes his head, turning over to look at Eddie. "For a second there, you sounded a lot like m—AAAH OH MY GOD!"
Palms clasping his… (well, Eddie’s) mouth now, Steve can only gasp in horror.
"WHO are you?” he demands. “WHAT are you?"
"It's me! It's Eddie!" Eddie gulps. "I'm... I’M INSIDE OF YOU!”
There’s a pause.
“I don't like how I worded that,” he admits.
"Yeah, neither do I..." Steve agrees. Suddenly he squints. "Is that a zit on my forehead?"
He reaches to swat it but Eddie swats him away. Through Steve's gritted teeth, Eddie hisses,
"THAT'S what you're worried about right now? What in the sane hell is happening?!"
“This isn’t the first weird dream I’ve had after taking an edible,” Steve remarks.
“Harrington, this ISN’T a dream. Okay? This is real life.”
“Yeah, okay Munson,” Steve scoffs, finally hoisting himself off of the couch to pace around. “I know a dream when I’m in one. I just gotta… pinch myself or slap myself around and I’ll be awake.”
But Eddie wastes no time.
“OW!” Steve yelps. “You just pinched my nipple!”
“You mean my nipple?”
He does it again.
“OW! Quit it dude, that’s harassment.”
The two make their way over to a mirror in the living room. To test out the impossible, Steve raises his right hand. The mirror shows Eddie doing it. Eddie begins to touch his face. The mirror responds with Steve doing it. 
It’s the confirmation they were too in denial to come to terms with. They somehow switched bodies.
“Oh god, I’m…” Steve stammers. “Wow…”
“Oh…GOD!” Eddie shrieks. He inches closer to the mirror. “I’m like an off-brand George Michael!”
“HURTFUL—”
“Harrington!” Eddie exclaims, turning back around to face himself. “What was the last thing you remember from last night?”
“Uhh,” Steve stammers. “A-all I remember was us arguing during dinner time and going separate ways after. And then there was a big earthquake that everyone insists that they didn’t feel. And then…we all went to bed, and I forgot to get you a pillow.”
“It’s okay, I’m over it,” Eddie pants. “Way bigger issues than a pillow right now.”
“And now we’re here.”
The two frantically pace around the living room. How can something like this possibly happen?
"Okay,” Eddie exhales. “Yesterday we were here with everybody. All of us were seemingly having a good time until we got pretty into it. Then the earthquake happened, we went to bed, and woke up sober… but in different bodies. Is this like…a rare phenomenon…some kind of medical emergency?”
“I don’t know, dude,” Steve shrugs. “This has never happened to me before. There has to be a scientific explanation for this."
Suddenly their two brain cells click.
"Henderson," they utter in unison.
“It was probably Dustin’s Empathy science experiment,” Steve infers. “Although I'm not sure how a fortune cookie would take walking-in-another-person's-shoes so damn LITERAL."
"God, we’re cooked!” Eddie groans. “And we can’t tell anyone but our friends about it or else we’re REALLY gonna end up as test subjects!”
Eddie starts biting his new nails and frantically pacing back and forth. Meanwhile, Steve centers in on his breathing before emotionally responding to the situation in front of him.
“Okay…” Steve exhales. “Let me just gather my thoughts… You’re in my body and I’m in your body.”
“...Right,” Eddie nods, annoyed since they’d already established that. “Does it seem less scary now that you’ve said it out loud?”
“No,” Steve shakes his head.
“Alright, cool,” Eddie shrugs. “Just checking.”
They look at each other, absolutely petrified of the reality that has now sunk in. And before they seek any other forms of help, there was one more final thought the two needed to share alone… one O.O.M.F. (Other Older Male Friend) to another, in the comfort of Steve’s living room.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
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[cue panicked guitar rift here 🎸⚡️]
“This is so not cool, man, this is SO not cool!”
Argyle, Jonathan, and Robin are the first ones at the scene. Along with Dustin, of course, who is now evidently spiraling. 
“I need some air,” Dustin sighs. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god.”
The scientist darts outside for a very reasonable and private mental breakdown. Meanwhile in his absence, everyone else attempts to get their Thinking Caps on.
“I mean…” Argyle pants. “It’s one thing to have a funky acid trip, it’s another to have an out-of-body experience…but this is…this is…”
“Freaky,” Jonathan finishes for him.
“It’s FREAKY!” Argyle agrees. “And it’s not like we can go to the cops, I mean, they'd never open their minds to something like this. They'd just ship us to the Kerley County KOOK HOUSE.”
“Or worse,” Eddie gulps. “The Lab.”
The room is drowned with frantic rambling once again as all the young adults talk over each other.
Will this be the new normal? A head-banging Steve and a preppy Eddie? It sounds like pure nightmare fuel. A disaster waiting to happen. And Dustin only programmed his fortune cookies for this… unintentionally. He didn’t program a way to undo it. 
Everyone is running out of ideas. That is until…
“Wait!” Robin exclaims. “What if you guys just…combined?”
The idea is met with retaliation.
“I beg your finest pardon?” “WE WHAT?!”
“Wait!” Eddie exclaims. “No, no, yeah! I get it. What if we… what if we just… RAN… into each other and the force will be great enough to switch us back?”
“Right! Right!” Steve frantically agrees. “Right, the greater the force, the greater the impact, and we’ll be back in our bodies in no time.”
Steve and Eddie are on opposite sides of the room before anyone else can register it. Kicking his foot around like a bull, Eddie warms himself up while Harrington takes deep breaths, grounding himself before the ordeal.
“Are they really about to…” Argyle begins.
“Sh.. sh..” Jonathan stops him.
“I really wanna see how this goes,” Robin adds.
“Okay,” Eddie huffs before he lets out a battle cry. “EN GUARDE!”
“OH GOD!” Steve shrieks.
“AHHHHHH!” 
“AHHHHHH!”
SMACK! PLOP!
Luckily the floor breaks their fall. The commotion grabs the attention of Dustin, who had just finished his meltdown. But at the sight of seeing his two friends attempt to combine, he could feel himself being launched into yet another one. 
“Okay,” Dustin sighs as he walks back in. “What the hell?!”
———
“Language, Dusty!”
The next brainiac to consult on the list is Suzie, Dustin’s girlfriend. Spawning from the Mormon Capital of the world (Salt Lake City, Utah), Little Miss Beauty and Brains is known to have a solution for just about anything. Until now, it seems.
 “I’m sorry for the language, Suzie. I’m just freaking out,” Dustin blubbers. “It’s not every day my best friends switch bodies and I have no idea how to change them back.”
“So let me get this straight…” Suzie sighs. “Steve is inside of Eddie, and Eddie is inside of Steve.”
“Okay, can we please stop wording it like that?!” Eddie pleads.
“Sorry, Steve.”
“I’M EDDIE!”
“Jiminy Cricket, this is so confusing.”
And what a sight for confused eyes it also is.  But as painful as it is to admit, it’s interesting watching “Steve Harrington” stomp at the ground muttering “Jesus H. Christ!” while “Eddie Munson” nitpicks everything about his hair in the mirror.
“Okay, let’s start from the beginning,” Suzie suggests. “How did this start? What did you use for your ingredients, Dusty Bun?”
“Passionfruit and cohosh,” Dustin answers firmly. “Well-known, NATURAL stimulants of oxytocin.”
“And you said they ate the cookies containing these ingredients?”
“Yes, and they got the same fortune which I programmed for them to feel empathy for each other when it happens. Their bodies should’ve released an immense amount of oxytocin. Instead, they uh well, they switched bodies.”
“Dusty Bun… there is no such thing as an oral oxytocin!”
“Why not?” Steve questions.
“Because it would just get destroyed in the GI tract,” Suzie explains. “Meaning there wouldn’t be any ‘stimulants’ to absorb into the bloodstream.”
“Meaning oxytocin would’ve never been released in the first place,” Eddie’s breath hitches.
“It’s also notorious for being unable to cross the blood-brain barrier,” Suzie adds. “Something always happens before it’s able to. This may as well be that something.”
“But… if it gets destroyed in the stomach…” Dustin wonders. “Then how the hell did Steve and Eddie still end up switching bodies?”
Suzie shoots Dustin a dirty look.
“How the heck…” he corrects himself.
Suzie softens up immediately. “I don’t know. Our Heavenly Father works in mysterious ways. This may have happened for a reason. I’m not sure what it is yet, but I’m sure it serves a Divine purpose.”
“Well, can it SERVE a little faster?” Eddie grumbles. “I’ve got a Show and Tell to practice for and Harrington’s got children to babysit. We obviously can’t do that for each other. People are going to think we’ve gone crazy.”
Suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head.
“Wait. Henderson! Give us a couple more cookies. Maybe if we get the same fortune again, we’ll switch back!”
“NO! No more cookies!” Steve butts in. “Who’s to say you won’t end up inside another person whose body you didn’t wanna be in?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Okay…” Dustin stops him, disgusted at the fact. “Enough.”
“Dustin is right,” Suzie nods. “Enough arguing for now, and no more fortune cookies with matching fortunes until we can find out what’s wrong!”
The boys watch as Suzie walks back towards her desk and returns with some papers and pencils.
“Here. My homework for you two is to write down every little detail there is to know about each other. This includes your day-to-day, your hobbies, and even habits. No one can know what is really going on behind the scenes.”
“Whoa whoa whoa, wait,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t like what you’re implying. We don’t have to… live life as each other… do we?!”
“In the meantime, yes. You do.” Suzie confirms. “And it will be uncomfortable, I’m not going to lie. But what else can we do?”
“Uh, go through all of Dustin’s fortune cookies until we find a pair so Steve and I can ingest THOSE!” Eddie points out.
“Yeah, and there goes BOTH my Show and Tell items!” Dustin hollers.
“Dusty, don’t worry,” Suzie speaks again. “You will get to showcase your friends and fortune cookies at Show and Tell. I’ll be doing my own research to ensure that this happens. This includes talking to some monks, priests, and rabbis. We WILL get to the bottom of this.”
The three leave Suzie’s cabin feeling absolutely defeated. 
Of course this would happen the summer Steve finally got his hair under control. And of course this would happen the moment Eddie has a potential record deal at the palm of his hands. Any other circumstance would have been okay, despite the freakiness factor. This was just shit timing if they ever did see it.
And if Suzie can’t fix it, they’re screwed.
When they get far enough away from the girls' cabins, Steve excuses himself to the nearest water fountain. In contrast, Eddie shows himself to the closest Porta-Potty, the safest place for him to have a conversation he wouldn’t be caught dead having.
“Hey God,” Eddie grumbles. “Me again.”
———
Adapting to each other’s lives certainly wasn’t easy.
It started with switching cars.
Steve’s BMW has sensitive brakes. Eddie’s beloved van, Halen, on the other hand requires more force, more aggression, something Eddie believed Steve would bust his toe doing.
And Eddie can only hope that when Steve is running around town as him, he doesn’t embarrass him all too much. He’s already not off to a good start, with a stupid Thundercats t-shirt on and his hair up in a bun.
“And when you’re outside with the kiddos, make sure they wear sunscreen,” Steve advises him. “You're a camp counselor, after all.”
“Got it.”
“And that an epipen is with you at all times,” Steve adds. “Some of the kids have bee and nut allergies and those reactions can be lethal.”
Make sure this. Make sure that. It’s odd for Eddie to be hearing it all in his own voice. Has Steve always been this annoying?
Eventually Eddie gets tired of it and consults his Walkman, blasting “Take Me Away” through his headphones to drown out Steve’s rambling. Rambling on and on and on and on… on and on and on and on….
“Eddie!” Steve shouts. “Are you listening?”
“Don’t wanna grow up I wanna get out,” Eddie sings. “HEY! Take me away.”
Eddie was listening. In fact he listens and pays attention more than Steve knows. He just doesn’t want to give him that satisfaction.
“I’m gonna get you a real job,” Steve says to Eddie.
“A real job?” Eddie tuts. “My job is real. I sell real drugs and bring in real money to help my Uncle afford our really real rent.”
“But I’m not gonna be the one doing it.”
“Sure you are. You’re me.”
“Munson, no!”
“Harrington, yes.”
“I’M NOT SELLING KETAMINE TO MINORS, EDDIE.”
“Aw. But you fit the stereotype,” Eddie smirks, rather cheekily. “Now chop chop, Rick’s expecting royalties on said sales.”
“Maybe I can land you a hospitality job. Or maybe a front desk job. Something that comes with benefits. Something practical.”
“A Munson with a normal job in Hawkins?” Eddie can’t believe his ears. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
Perhaps there is a silver lining in all of this. 
For the average Hawkins resident, getting a job is no issue. It was never a choice for Eddie. Given his father’s less-than-cookie-cutter reputation – and Eddie being an involuntary extension of him – he couldn’t believe Steve couldn’t grasp that getting a conventional job is hard. And Eddie always thought Harrington needed some humbling. This is the perfect scenario for it.
“Take your feet off your dash,” Steve grumbles. “Steve Harrington doesn’t do that.”
“AyAy, Captain.”
“And stop head-banging in my body, will ya?” Steve begs. “You’ll break a sweat and un-pomade my hair.”
“God, you’re so anal about everything, Steve!” Eddie scoffs. “I feel sorry for those kids, I really do.”
If Eddie’s going to be walking around in Steve’s body, he at least wanted to relax first. But even that was impossible, given that Steve is a talker and alleged goodie-two-shoes-who-discovered-empathy-on-drugs-and-that’s-all-he-preaches-now (with the rules of a mother whose son was allergic to everything but water).
The car ride is more tense and quiet as the two approach Knowhere. Eddie is quick to scurry out when Steve approaches the drop-off curb, a little speech already prepared from the first nerve Harrington managed to get on in the morning.
“Loosen up that manbun,” Eddie commands once he’s out of the car. “You look like the Buddha went thrifting in Chicago. You also need to unclench your asscheeks a bit more if you wanna be me. And to put more fiber in your diet. How’s that for advice?”
SLAM! goes the door. Steve normally would’ve been pissed, but since he’s driving Halen, he’s lenient about it. So he watches Eddie walk away, in a stride that looks like he's constantly got a wedgie, over to the camp and towards the kids he is to watch until Show and Tell Day.
“WEAR SUNSCREEN!” Steve hisses, one last time. “…I don’t play about my skin.”
———
“Hey, Steve!” a group of campers greet Eddie as he makes his way into Knowhere.
God, this is so weird.
“Hey…kiddos?” Eddie greets them in return.
“We’re gonna go diving in the lake, just letting you know.”
“Thanks for the invite,” Eddie tuts. “Sounds like a lot of fun. Just uh, wear sunscreen.”
“Well, we try to invite you but you never wanna come with us.”
“Says who?” Eddie demands. “It’s summer, everyone goes to the lake.”
“Everyone but you,” a kid points out. “You turn us down every time.”
“I do?”
“All the time,” another kid confirms. “You say it ruins your hair.”
"I was...joking," is all Eddie can come up with.
"Really? Because it doesn't sound like you were," another child counters. "You already don't like that the UV rays have the potential to damage your hair cuticles, which aids in your fear of dryness and breakage. Furthermore, swimming in a lake filled with miscellaneous, unidentified bacterium is another concern, apart from the warm water having the potential to dry your hair out even more. Also, at windy temperatures of about 80 degrees, typical for a Hawkins summer, your hair when damp will start to frizz. Which is where your pomade and Farrah Fawcett spray come in handy. And on summer days, you give your hair 32 hours before the next hair wash rotation, to which the cycle starts again. We know the drill, Steve. You've explained it multiple times. And we get it now that you don’t like the lake."
Even the kids think Harrington's insufferable. Eddie can only shake his head in disbelief.
"I'm not who I was a day ago," Eddie shrugs. "...literally."
"Huh?"
"You gonna let me join or what?"
Suddenly, the kids’ eyes begin to light up. Steve Harrington joining them at the lake? It was going to be the most fun day they’ve ever had!
"Sure!" the kids cheer excitedly. "Al-right! Steve is joining our party!"
Eddie smiles to himself, proud of the reaction he got from the eager children. Excited cheers? Smiling faces? Now THAT is how you Camp Counsel.
And now that Eddie thinks about it, he realizes something. He’s spent most of his youth in survival mode that he never got to let loose and have fun. And while he has Steve’s body and physical activity levels, he is certainly NOT about to let that go to waste. Pomade? Eddie thinks to himself. Meet Trash Can.
“Hey guys! Wait for me!” Eddie calls after the campers. “CANNONBALL!"
Meanwhile Steve sets off to find Eddie a job.
A real job.
He tries Hawkins Mart. The roller rink. The movie theater. The coffee shops. Something that involved social interaction and hard work. 
"Hi there," Steve grins politely. "I'm Eddie Munson, and I'd like to apply for a job."
But Hawkins is anything but receptive to it.
"No."
"Nope."
"Sorry."
"Munson, eh? You related to Al Munson?"
"NO!"
Apparently misdemeanors and run-ins with the law make it impossible to land a good gig. It was no wonder now why Eddie stayed where he was comfortable.
Though, it's unconventional.
Steve is just about to lose hope when those looking for help didn't even want him.
But he wasn’t giving up. There has to be something Steve can do to increase Eddie's chances of landing a good job.
Just then, he realizes. 
Maybe it’s not Eddie’s past, but his demeanor. The way he carries himself. If he didn’t dress like a vessel for Satan every single day, this conservative town would probably take him more seriously.
It's one of life's twisted games. Steve didn’t make the rules. And he sure as hell can't change it. 
But there is one thing he can help Eddie do. He can help Eddie play the game. Master it.
And that’s when Steve sees the scissors.
———
So you can say sunscreen is the least of everyone’s worries.
“Jesus Chr— what did you do to my hair?!”
“What did you do to MINE?!”
“I had to let her breathe man,” Eddie explains. “God, Harrington. No wonder you’re always in a mood. Holding your hair up with so much gel, MY HEAD FELT HEAVIER THAN A BOWLING BALL.”
“Oh yeah?” Steve challenges him. “Well your hair was so greasy, I could’ve pat it down with a paper towel like it’s PIZZA.”
The two are at it again, reaching at each other’s hair and then swatting each other away like flies. Suddenly Robin butts into the quarrel, emerging from the kitchen with amusement spread all across her face. 
“Oh…my…god…” she says.
Steve and Eddie simultaneously stop their bickering and pan their gazes over to her. Unable to contain her laughter, Robin releases a hearty chuckle in front of them.
“Holy shit, this is the greatest thing since disposable cameras,” Robin tsks. “On that note, let me go get mine.”
“NO!” both Steve and Eddie refuse.
“This is so humiliating!” Steve whines. “I look like someone literally mopped the floor with me!” 
“You're embarrassed?!” Eddie exclaims as he points to his own, original body. “Whose Peepaw died?! Why am I wearing a grandpa sweater sourced from the crusty back bins of Goodwill?!”
"I thought it'd be fitting attire for your library job that I got you."
"You got me a job at the LIBRARY?!” Eddie shrieks. “Out of all places?"
"No other place would hire you!"
"Can’t say I didn’t warn ya."
“And why does my hair LOOK LIKE THAT?!” Steve demands. “You went into the lake with the kids, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!”
Eddie shakes his head at him, baffled. “God forbid, I – the camp counselor — do camp counselor things! I did exactly what you told me to do.”
“WHERE DID I SAY YOU COULD MESS UP MY HAIR?”
Steve takes a moment to mourn his glorious mane. Meanwhile, Eddie starts brainstorming how he’s going to rob a high end salon for all their hair growth serums. 
Just then, Robin reemerges from the shadows with her camera, panning it directly at the two of them, as if she were some eager journalist fighting for her spot on the front page of National Geographic.
“Say cheese, freaks!”
———
Eddie was having a hard time being Steve.
Being Hawkins’ most desirable male apart from Billy Hargrove was harder than he thought. Because while women worshiped the ground Steve walked on, it was hard for flight-risk teens to take the Pretty Boy seriously.
“Christopher!” Eddie hisses. “I told you to stop domesticating the raccoons, you little shit.”
Living in the trailer park, Eddie’s no stranger to those feral, yet adorable, beady-eyed beauties. And while they were cute, holding your hand, refurbishing your trash, and performing for crackers, there was an unspoken agreement when it came to those kinds of animals: you are to never take them in.
“But it’s for research!” Christopher pleads.
“I wouldn’t care if it was for the Nobel Peace Prize,” Eddie scolds him. He places his angry hands frustratedly on his hips. “Those things can be rabid, violent, and aggressive when you least expect it. Trust me on this. Raccoons are better left alone in the wild. They can’t live with people like us.”
A low, miserable groan furls at the base of the boy’s belly. He kicks at the dirt beneath him.
“Ugh, you ruin all the fun, Steve,” Christopher whines. “Eddie Munson would never treat us like this.”
That statement just about nipped Eddie in the soul. Was this what being a buzzkill is like? Little did Christopher know that it’s actually Eddie scolding him. And that the kids were not only hurting Steve’s feelings but his as well. 
Meanwhile Steve wasn’t having a grand time being Eddie either.
“HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING BOY?!”
He almost died. Quite literally. And if it hadn’t been for Wayne launching himself across the room to stop it from happening, the odds of he and Eddie ever switching back would’ve gone from unlikely to zero.
“What?!” Steve demands.
“What do you mean, what?!” Wayne demands. “You eat that thing you’re going to wound up in the hospital! Again!”
Steve’s eyes trail down to the delicious shrimp tacos he had bought for takeout from Estrella’s. 
Eddie is deathly allergic to shellfish. And with just a single bite of that shrimp taco, he would be in the back of an ambulance with hives and a closed-up throat. And judging by the fact that Eddie and his uncle didn’t necessarily bring home the ‘big bucks’, an invoice from Hawkins Memorial Hospital wouldn’t be an ideal situation to put him through.
“We’re already two months behind on rent,” Wayne grumbles. “You eat those tacos, kick the bucket, and rack up them bills, I may as well join ya six feet under.”
No tacos, no time and a half at work, and no solution to the problem at hand. No wonder Eddie was always an angsty mess. It definitely showcases in those lyrics too.
———
“Take me away, away, away, AWAY”
A killer guitar solo rips through the Harrington garage as Eddie strums away at the chords. 
In hindsight, it looks like Steve is the rockstar. But the feral energy is unmistakably Munson’s, to which Dustin can’t help but get lost in, dancing along as a one-man-mosh-pit to the brilliance of Corroded Coffin’s discography.
“Same old stuff, it never ends.”
“The song sounds so cool hearing it in Steve’s voice,” Dustin beams. “And I can’t believe you put him in a crop top.”
“It’s like dressing up a Barbie doll,” Eddie jokes as he puts his guitar away. He then turns his torso towards Henderson’s field of view. “Look… Harrington’s an innie.”
Dustin cackles at the sight.
“Hahaha, no way!” he cheers. “I’m an outie.”
“Me too.”
The garage lets out an insulated hum as Steve strides in with the tacos. He cocks an eyebrow, confused at the sight of Dustin and Corroded Coffin comparing navels with each other. 
“What did I just walk into?”
Eddie’s eyes light up at the sight of Steve.
“Ooh, is that Estrella’s I smell?” he inquires.
“All yours,” Steve grumbles. “Found out today that I can’t have shellfish.”
Eddie smirks at the realization.
“But I can,” he sings. “Because I’m Steve Harrington.”
Eddie rushes over to Steve to acquire the food. Steve goes over to greet the rest of the boys and to issue Dustin a long-awaited high five.
“Mmm…” Eddie coos. “Take a good look at these washboard abs, Innie. They’ll be gone for as long as I can have these tacos.”
Steve makes a face. “I can’t believe you put me in a crop top.”
“I can’t believe you cut my hair,” Eddie shrugs.
But he seems to have gotten over the fact. Hair will grow back. There were larger issues at hand today. Like how exactly Eddie is going to perform with Corroded Coffin at Show and Tell.
“Listen,” Eddie wipes his mouth. “Harrington. I have a favor. If worse comes to worst and we can’t switch back on time, I need you to perform as me for Show and Tell.”
“And why exactly would I do that?”
“Because it’s our one shot to make it big.”
“Again, why would I do that?”
“Because you love me,” Eddie sneers.
But his face drops when Steve doesn’t return the energy. 
Nowhere in the fine print did it say ‘Steve Owes Eddie’. So why would Steve bother? It’s a lot for Eddie to ask of someone he’s openly mocked for years. But now that he needs something, suddenly Steve is the coolest person in the world? It doesn’t work like that. 
“Hey…” Eddie begins. “I know you don’t like me, okay? Whatever animosity you have towards me, I hope we can move on from it one day.” 
Steve refuses to meet Eddie’s eyes.
“If you do this for me, I’ll be eternally grateful,” Munson adds. “And maybe just maybe — when Corroded Coffin makes it big and we start touring around the world — I’ll be out of your hair forever. Literally.”
“Seems transactional.” 
It leaves a bad taste in Eddie’s mouth. It was always ‘Terms and Conditions’ with Harrington. Never has he ever considered the other person’s feelings. Never has he ever done anything out of the goodness of his heart. It was always, “What do I get out of it?”. Always some sort of fucked up business move. Just like his father.
“You view everything as a transaction, don’t you?” Eddie scoffs. 
“Why would I do favors for someone who’s done nothing but disrespect me? I value my time and energy. I’m not wasting it on you.” 
“But you can waste it on being a camp counselor, right? The kids aren’t so hot about you anyways, so I don’t know why you keep showing up.”
“Because Dustin is there. Because I’m a good friend. You wouldn’t know sacrifice and loyalty if it hit you in the face.”
“Ah, there it is. The performative activism in plain sight. We all know that this is about Dustin. AAAAlways been that way.”
“Of course my summer is about Dustin,” Steve argues. “You’ve had him all year. Spending every second with him and breathing down his neck.”
“I’M the one spending too much time with him?” Eddie scoffs. “Breathing down his neck?! You’re the one who got a gig to be closer to him.”
“Does it register with you that it’s because I DON’T SEE HIM MUCH AT ALL ANYMORE?” Steve shouts. “He’s always at your stupid D&D games and never wants to hang out with me! You’re taking the spotlight, like you always seem to do!”
“That’s IT!” Dustin barks. “I have HAD it with you two fighting all the time.”
Finally, it’s quiet. And normally the two would be stoked about it, but seeing Dustin on the brink of tears does not make the last word worthwhile at all.
“Not even a life-changing catastrophe will make you guys stop! You’re in each other’s bodies for Christ’s sake and still going at it like cats and dogs.”
Dustin starts back towards the house, kicking at the chords beneath his feet that are blocking his dramatic exit. All Dustin has ever wanted from those two – and quite literally every adult in his life – was co-existence. A notion so easy, yet no one has ever been able to give him that. Not even with his damn empathy cookies.
“It all makes me feel like a failure. Locking myself in my cabin for six weeks to have my fortune cookies yield THESE results? My last year at camp too.”
“Dustin–”
“And if you guys keep this up, then I don’t wanna spend the rest of my summer with either of you. How’s that for compromise?”
“Hey. Buddy…” Steve starts again.
“Henderson!” Eddie calls at the same time.
But it’s already too late. Off Dustin goes, Camp Nowhere notebook in his arms, walkie in his pocket, and car keys jingling furiously around his fingers. Nothing worth displaying at Show and Tell if the grown ups were going to act younger than the campers there. And if Dustin’s anger wasn’t already prominent, the way he backs out of Steve’s driveway is a dead giveaway, judging by the screeching tires and the pop of the engine as he steps on the gas.
“Damn,” Jeff comments. “Taco ‘bout a tough crowd…”
Ba-dum-tss! the drum sounds.
“GARETH!” Steve and Eddie growl.
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"Scott Clarke."
Hearing that name nearly gives Eddie whiplash. Especially because it came out of Steve’s mouth.
"Huh?"
Steve repeats himself. "Scott Clarke? Our middle school science teacher?”
Steve is perched at the bottom of the stairs, wading aimlessly around in guilt. Eddie watches as he props himself against the rails of his fancy staircase, almost as if to serenade him with an apology song of sorts. 
"When we were kids, he headed the Hawkins Middle AV Club,” Steve recalls. “Nancy was in it, and so was Mike and so was Sinclair, Baby Byers, and Dustin.”
“Go on…”
“Well…whenever they ran into trouble, Mr. Clarke was always there to help,” Harrington shrugs. “Always been very personable, non-judgmental, and most of all, he’s knowledgeable.”
“Okay…”
 “And with his degree from MIT, he’d be the one most likely able to get us out of this mess,” Steve emphasizes. “Just in time for Show and Tell.”
“What makes you think he’d want to help former students like us?” Eddie demands. “We weren’t in the AV club or anything.”
“Because he cares, Eddie. Current students or not.”
There’s a pause.
“Remember that one time you came into homeroom with a black eye?” Steve reflects. “And Clarke made you stay after class so he could ask if everything was okay at home?”
Attempting to mask the mushy feelings underneath, Eddie simply shrugs. Steve persists.
“Other teachers would have assumed you got in a fight or something. Even if that was the case, none of them cared to look further into it. No one except Mr. Clarke.” 
“Yeah,” Eddie admits, choked up now. “Yeah, I almost forgot about that.”
It actually was a fight that happened that day. Some random kid at school. But there were also times Eddie has gotten in scuffles with his father, typically when Al Munson stumbled home too drunk for his own good and tried laying a hand on either him or Uncle Wayne. And Mr. Clarke, having grown up with Al, knew what he was capable of. Meaning it was his unspoken civil duty to look out for (Munson) Junior.
“And,” Harrington sighs. “I’m kinda really desperate here. I want you to be able to perform at Dustin’s Show and Tell. You and the band have a shot at this. I wholeheartedly believe that. And I don’t have much faith in my ability to perform as you. Neither does Dustin, it seems.”
“Steve…” Eddie begins. 
“And sure, I was upset about not being Henderson’s first choice for a while,” Steve rambles. “But I’ll be okay. The kids can learn survival skills another time. ”
Grateful tears start to form in Eddie’s eyes. He’s never seen this side of Steve before. 
“My hopes and dreams don’t depend on Show and Tell,” Steve mumbles. “And if it means a producer from Cardinal Records is going to be there, then getting Wayne and yourself out of debt does.”
Their eyes meet again.
“I can’t take that away from you.”
Suddenly the rocker feels his knees buckle.
It feels as if Eddie’s soul is about to leave his body. Or Steve’s in this sense. Struggling to keep his composure, the ever-so-rugged Eddie Munson clears his throat.
“…I didn’t think you paid attention to any of that, Steve.”
“I pay attention more than you think,” Steve counters. “And if my observations are right, Mr. Clarke might have the answer.”
Steve shrugs, dangling the keys to Eddie’s van around his fingers. He hula hoops them around as Eddie remains floored, pondering above him.
“Well?” says Steve. “You just gonna stand there and gawk, ‘Harrington’? Come on.”
Perhaps walking and gawking would be more productive. Without further hesitation, Eddie races down the steps and follows closely behind Steve before shutting the door to the house.
“Wipe your feet,” Steve commands as he unlocks the doors to Halen.
“What do you mean wipe my feet?” Eddie snaps. “It’s MY van!”
“Yeah, but I’m the one who’s been driving it,” Steve counters with a glare. “And I’m saying wipe your feet.”
Nonetheless, Eddie sighs and does as he’s told. But he’s not happy about it. 
Never in a million years did he think Steve Harrington would tell him how to run his own van. Nor did he think Harrington would actually end up being a good dude. Both were very humbling experiences. And while King Steve drives them off to Hawkins Middle, willingly blasting Metallica and doing his best to head-bang, Eddie crosses his arms and stares blankly out the passenger side window.
“I’m never eating anything Dustin makes me again.”
———
"So..." Eddie prompts. "Can you fix us?"’
“If it isn’t broken, then do not fix it,” Mr. Clarke advises. 
There was only so much that could be disclosed to their former teacher. Being an educator also meant being a mandated reporter, and it’s without a doubt government officials would bust down the doors of Camp Knowhere and run a freak raid on Dustin’s science experiment had they known the truth. Steve and Eddie had to gloss over practically everything.
“I appreciate and am honored to know you two trust me with your dilemma,” Mr. Clarke nods. “That being said, it is normal for gentlemen your age to go through an identity crisis after experimenting with recreational drugs. It will subside, but only if you don’t fight it.”
A decade can certainly change things. Steve and Eddie never expected their most logic-driven teacher to embrace his heart, dressed in a brown linen robe, as he calmly kept them on standby with soothing, meditative “Ommm”s while they spiraled into desperation in his ‘BACK TO (S)C(H)OOL’ classroom.
“But what is the science behind this?” Steve demands. “Is something happening in the…the… what did Suzie call it? The blood-brain barrier? Why would… Harrington and I both feel like we are living the life of the other person?”
“To question everything is to not know peace,” Mr. Clarke soothes them.
He’s saying this while criss-cross-apple-sauce on his desk, by the way.
“Sometimes, it is best to simply let things be,” the educator warns. “By going against the grain of the water, you are blocking the potential you can reach if you had been in a flow state.”
“Good God, you choose NOW to go on a spiritual retreat?!” Eddie hisses. “When we need science and your genius mind the most?!”
“If not now, then when?” Mr. Clarke mumbles. “If not you, then who?”
For the first time in his life, Eddie feels plagued with academic regret. He wishes he paid attention in Clarke’s class. Meanwhile Steve is considering having a word with his superintendent mother, because no way in hell is some barefoot, most-likely-vegan lunatic about to indoctrinate the future kids of America. 
“If not you… then who?” Clarke repeats. “If there's one thing I learned during my time in research… and mindful meditation…  it's that sometimes the answer is right in front of you. Or within."
Steve and Eddie look at each other.
"The world is full of obvious things," Mr. Clarke says. "...which nobody, by any chance, ever observes. Sherlock Holmes."
Accepting the absolute bust, Steve and Eddie storm out of the door and back down the stairs of their prepubescent alma mater. 
“Son of a bitch,” Eddie curses under his breath. “The damn hippies got to him before we did.”
As the two walk down the stairs, Steve sneaks a few quick glances Eddie’s way. Seeing him upset didn’t necessarily make him feel so hot. The answer is clear: they need to venture beyond a Mormon child and a middle school science teacher. They need to consult the big dogs. 
“We can go to the Indianapolis Science Center,” Steve suggests. “And maybe ask some people there. There’s also the university. If we flag down a professor from the physics or chemistry department, maybe they can offer us some insight. Or…”
“Just give it a rest, Steve,” Eddie surrenders.
“What?” Steve questions. “No! We’ve got to figure this out before Show and Tell. It’s in a couple days.”
“What’s a couple days?” Eddie demands. “We’ve been like this for nearly a week. What makes you think it won’t last another week? Or indefinitely.”
Eddie kicks at an empty carton of orange juice at his feet while Steve watches with an overwhelming sense of guilt. He didn’t want Eddie to give up. Not yet, at least.
“Hey I’m not going to let you blow this shot, Munson,” Steve demands firmly. “I know how much this means to you. This could finally be your ticket out of Hawkins. You guys were meant for the Big City.”
“No,” Eddie disagrees, absentmindedly. 
Eddie’s gaze veers off to the side, a sadness in his eyes so profound that Steve almost starts tearing up as well. 
“All… the answers… point…to no,” Eddie continues. “Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone followed their dreams? We’d have no one doing the conventional jobs. It's not in my cards, I fear. Maybe I was always meant to stay in Hawkins, being everyone’s weed man and no one’s first choice.”
“Eddie…”
“But thanks for trying though, Harrington. Doesn’t go unnoticed.”
———
To be continued…
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48 notes · View notes
ducktoo · 13 hours
Text
Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]
12. Jelly does come in both ways
Note: pretty long chap soo….enjoy the fluff!
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Ever since the topic of dating came up, Ningning, ever the instigator, had been joking around during one of their late-night practice sessions. They were cooling down, lying on the floor of the practice room, and Y/n had just stepped out to grab some water.
And a little birdie has chirped that Y/n got set up to a blind date.
“You know,” Ningning had said, shooting a glance at Winter, “if Y/n’s going on a date, maybe you should’ve set him up with someone, unnie. I mean, you are the same in age.”
Winter, sitting cross-legged, froze mid-stretch. “W-What? Why me?”
Karina, sensing an opportunity to join in the fun, smirked. “Well, you are always bickering with him. Opposites attract, don’t they?”
“Yeah,” Giselle added with a sly grin, “and you two spend so much time together. You must know his type by now.”
Winter’s face flushed. “That’s ridiculous! We just childhood friends. That’s it.”
Ningning snickered. “Sure, unnie. Whatever you say.”
The teasing didn’t stop there. The other girls kept dropping little comments and giggles every time Y/n and Winter interacted. Winter, despite trying her best to ignore it, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something every time they mentioned the date.
It wasn’t jealousy—definitely not—but she was... annoyed. That’s all it was. She didn’t even know the girl Y/n was meeting, yet something about the situation irked her.
And that’s how Winter found herself leading the charge to spy on Y/n’s date.
-
When Y/n agreed to go on a blind date, he had no idea he’d also be starring in a spy movie—except, instead of highly trained professionals following him, it was four idiots wearing oversized sunglasses and ridiculous disguises.
Winter, Giselle, Ningning, and Karina sat huddled in the corner of a small café, pretending to read menus they had no intention of ordering from. It was Winter’s idea, of course, to “just check in” on Y/n’s date. She swore it was for his own good, not because of any weird feelings she might or might not be experiencing.
She watched from behind her menu as Y/n walked into the café, looking more put together than usual—buttoned-up shirt, hair neatly styled, even a bit of cologne. Winter’s stomach did a weird little flip, and she cursed herself for noticing.
“There he is,” Ningning whispered, her voice barely containing her amusement. “Our boy’s looking sharp.”
“Do you think she’s pretty?” Giselle asked, eyes darting to the entrance.
Winter didn’t respond, but her grip tightened on the menu. This was stupid. Why was she even here? She had better things to do with her day off than spy on Y/n’s date.
But then again, if she wasn’t here, who knew what kind of person Y/n might be meeting? What if she wasn’t nice? What if Y/n got catfished?
“Oh! There she is,” Karina whispered, nudging Winter.
The girl who entered was undeniably pretty—stylish, confident, and exactly the kind of person you’d expect Y/n to go on a date with. Winter’s stomach twisted again. She wasn’t sure why.
As the girl approached Y/n and they started talking, Winter kept stealing glances, trying not to look too obvious. The conversation seemed to be going well, and Y/n even laughed at something the girl said.
Winter’s frown deepened. “He laughs like that with everyone,” she muttered under her breath.
“What was that?” Ningning asked, peeking over her sunglasses.
“Nothing,” Winter snapped, sinking lower into her seat.
Karina, sensing Winter’s mood, leaned in. “You know, you’re the one who insisted we do this.”
“I know,” Winter grumbled. “I just didn’t think he’d... I don’t know.”
“Look at him,” Giselle whispered, nodding toward Y/n. “He’s practically glowing.”
Winter glared at her. “I’m not jealous.”
“Sure,” Ningning said with a wink. “Whatever you say, unnie.”
-
As the date went on, the girls’ presence became harder to ignore. At first, they tried to be subtle—occasionally walking by the table, pretending to stretch, or “accidentally” dropping things nearby. But when Ningning knocked over a stack of napkins for the third time, Y/n shot them a look that screamed “I know you’re watching.”
“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” Winter whispered, clutching her iced coffee. “He’s going to catch on.”
“He already has,” Karina said, barely containing her laughter. “Look, he’s staring right at us.”
Y/n’s eyes were practically drilling holes into their table, but Winter refused to meet his gaze.
“Abort mission?” Giselle suggested, trying to stifle a giggle.
“No way,” Ningning whispered. “We’ve come too far.”
Winter, against her better judgment, found herself agreeing. She couldn’t back out now. Not when she’d already gotten this far.
-
Eventually, Y/n’s date couldn’t help but notice the commotion. The girl looked over at the corner where aespa was failing miserably at being inconspicuous and raised an eyebrow.
“Uh... Y/n?” she asked, pointing. “Are those... your friends?”
Y/n sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah... unfortunately.”
Winter, realising they’d been caught, stood up from the table, dragging the others with her. She marched over to Y/n’s table, her face burning with embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry,” she blurted, avoiding Y/n’s gaze. “We didn’t mean to... interrupt.”
Y/n leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Really? Because it looks like you’ve been spying on me for the past hour.”
Winter winced. “Okay, maybe we were. But it was Ningning’s idea!” she quickly deflected, throwing the youngest under the bus.
“Hey!” Ningning protested, though she didn’t seem too offended. “I was just curious! You know, making sure everything was going smoothly.”
Y/n’s date laughed, clearly more amused than upset. “It’s fine. Honestly, I think it’s cute that you guys are so close.”
Winter’s cheeks flushed. Cute? Was that how it looked? She wasn’t trying to be cute. She was just... concerned. That was it. Just concerned.
Y/n sighed, looking between his date and the girls. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “I should’ve known you guys wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“We just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting catfished!” Ningning defended with a grin. “Plus, you’re our manager. We have to look out for you.”
Y/n shot her an exasperated look. “Right. Sure.”
As the date came to an end, Winter couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of relief. Y/n’s date had been nice, sure, but she hadn’t been that nice. Not like Winter had been worried or anything... but still.
-
The girls continued to tease Y/n as they left the café, all of them walking back together. Ningning kept making little comments about how Y/n was “glowing,” while Karina and Giselle chuckled at his flustered expression.
Winter, on the other hand, stayed quiet, her thoughts swirling. She wasn’t sure why she felt the way she did, but she couldn’t shake the strange feeling that had settled in her chest.
“Well,” Y/n finally said, sighing as they reached the dorm, “I guess that’s the last time I agree to a blind date…and also see her.”
“Aw, come on,” Ningning teased. “Don’t give up yet. There’s still hope!”
Y/n rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Sure, if you guys don’t tag along next time.”
Winter smirked slightly, shoving her hands in her pockets. “No promises.”
-
It all started innocently enough, just a casual conversation about plans for the weekend. The girls had a break coming up, and for once, it seemed like everyone had something to do. Except for Y/n.
"So, what’s everyone doing this weekend?" Ningning asked as they sat around the practice room, cooling down from their dance session.
Karina stretched, glancing over at the others. "I’m thinking of going back to visit my family."
Giselle yawned. "I’m planning to catch up on sleep. A lot of sleep."
Winter, who had been unusually quiet, glanced at her phone before looking up with a slightly nervous smile. "Uh, I... actually have a date."
The room went silent.
Y/n, who had been casually sipping his water, almost choked. “Wait, what?”
Karina and Giselle exchanged quick looks, trying not to grin too widely, while Ningning's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Ohhhh, a date, huh?" she teased, leaning toward Winter. "And you didn’t think to tell us earlier?"
Winter’s cheeks flushed. "It’s not a big deal. Just someone I met through a friend."
Y/n could feel the odd, unfamiliar sensation bubbling in his chest. His grip on the water bottle tightened. “A date,” he repeated, as if confirming it to himself.
Minjeong was going on a date.
For some reason, that didn’t sit right with him. Not that he had any say in what Winter did with her free time, of course, but something about it made him... uneasy.
“Who is he?” Y/n blurted out, trying to keep his voice casual but failing miserably.
Winter raised an eyebrow at his tone. “Just a guy. Why, are you jealous or something?”
The question hung in the air, half a joke but with a hint of challenge in Winter’s eyes.
Giselle, sensing the shift, smirked. “Oh, this is getting interesting.”
“I’m not jealous,” Y/n said a little too quickly, his heart racing. “I just... you know, I want to make sure he’s not some random guy. You have to be careful.”
“Dejavu….” Karina muttered while glancing at the other 2 girls, who had the same idea.
Winter crossed her arms, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure. I’ll be fine, Y/n. You don’t have to worry.”
Ningning, loving every second of the exchange, leaned over to Karina and whispered loudly, “I think we’ve found our next couple to tease.”
Karina chuckled, nodding. “Definitely.”
Y/n, now flustered, tried to shake off the growing irritation gnawing at him. He knew the girls were teasing, but the thought of Winter going on a date was seriously messing with his head. Why did he care so much?
But then, there was that look Winter had when she teased him. That sparkle in her eyes, the small smile playing on her lips. It made his chest tighten in a way that was completely unfamiliar.
-
Y/n paced nervously in front of the large windows overlooking the city from the café’s second floor. He told himself, “This is purely for safety reasons. Nothing more.” His hands were shoved into his pockets, but his mind was racing a mile a minute. Winter was on a date. With some guy. And he couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that gnawed at him.
"Why do I care so much?" he muttered to himself, watching the small table near the window where Winter sat with her date. She seemed relaxed, laughing at something the guy said.
He tried to play it cool when Winter first mentioned the date, but now that it was happening, he couldn’t help but worry. The fact that the guy recognised Winter as a member of aespa only added to his anxiety.
He glanced over again, eyes narrowing slightly. The guy didn’t look suspicious, but then again, Y/n had seen this type of situation play out before. A fan pretending to be a casual date, using it as an opportunity to get closer to idols—Winter in this case.
Y/n's phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was Ningning.
Ningning:
You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.
Y/n sighed. He was caught. Of course, she would know. She always knew. He typed back quickly.
Y/n:
I’m just making sure she’s safe.
Ningning:
Sure you are. 🙄 You do realise Mindoogie can take care of herself, right? Stop being jealous and come back before she notices..
Y/n groaned. Jealous? He wasn’t jealous. He was… concerned. And besides, Ningning wasn’t helping by pointing out what he already refused to admit. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and continued to observe from his spot, only for Giselle to join in with another text.
Giselle:
I heard you’re spying on Winter’s date. Get a grip, dude. 😂
Y/n:
You guys spied me last time, anyway. Why can’t I TT
Ningning:
Just because
Clearly, Ningning had told the others. Y/n clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to reply. Giselle’s playful jab wasn’t going to change his mind. He was here for a good reason. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
-
Downstairs, Winter took a sip of her coffee, her eyes flickering toward the window. She was having a decent time, but there was something off. Her date had been nice enough, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was more interested in her career than in her as a person. He kept bringing up aespa, talking about their music, their recent performances, and fan events.
At first, she appreciated that he knew her work, but after the fourth mention of the group, it was getting a little weird. She shifted in her seat, wondering if she should just call it a night.
"You must get so many fan gifts, huh?" her date asked with an awkward chuckle. "It must be wild."
Winter forced a smile. "Yeah, it’s part of the job."
She didn’t want to seem rude, but she couldn’t help but wish she were somewhere else. The conversation felt more like an interview than a date. “This was a bad idea,” she thought.
Suddenly, she glanced out the window again and spotted something—or rather, someone—familiar. Her eyes widened as she realised…
Y/n was standing a few feet away, trying (and failing) to blend in with the people passing by.
"Wait a second..." she muttered under her breath.
Her date noticed her distracted expression and turned to follow her gaze. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, it’s just—" Winter’s mind raced. Why on earth was Y/n spying on her date? Was he seriously that worried about her? She could handle herself just fine.
-
Y/n had just stepped back from the window, deciding it was time to leave, when he heard a voice behind him.
"Idiot?"
He froze. Slowly, he turned around to see Winter standing there, arms crossed, a mixture of amusement and frustration on her face.
"Uh... Hey," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "Fancy seeing you here."
Winter raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "What are you doing here?"
Y/n tried to come up with a believable excuse but knew there was no way out of this one. "Hahhh…. I was just... making sure everything was okay. You know, safety first and all that."
"Safety?" Winter echoed, her voice laced with disbelief. "You’re spying on my date, aren’t you?"
"Spying is a strong word," Y/n mumbled, clearly caught. “And you did it last time with the others…”
Winter couldn’t help but laugh. The situation was ridiculous, and as much as she wanted to be annoyed, seeing Y/n flustered like this was amusing. "You know I can take care of myself, right?"
"Yeah, I know," Y/n said quickly, but his eyes flickered with something else—something Winter hadn’t noticed before. "I just... I didn’t want anything bad to happen."
Winter softened at his words. She knew Y/n was protective, but this was a new level of concern. "You don’t have to worry about me all the time, Y/n," she said gently. "I can handle it."
"I know," he sighed, finally admitting defeat. "I just couldn’t help it. The guy knew you were in aespa, and I thought maybe he was... I don’t know, taking advantage of that."
Winter smiled, a genuine one this time. "He’s just a fan, but I could tell it wasn’t going anywhere. You didn’t have to follow me."
Y/n nodded, feeling a bit silly now. "Yeah, sorry. I’ll back off next time."
Winter chuckled softly. "No need. It’s kind of... sweet. In a really weird way.
Before Y/n could respond, Winter’s phone buzzed. She glanced down and rolled her eyes. "It’s Ningning. They’re all laughing at us, aren’t they?"
"Damn right they are," Y/n muttered.
Winter shook her head and sighed. "Come on, let’s get out of here. This date wasn’t exactly what I thought it’d be anyway."
"Really?" Y/n asked, surprised. "You’re cutting it short?"
"Yeah," Winter shrugged. "He was more into aespa than into me."
“I bet his bias wasn’t you.”
“Oh shush, idiot”
Y/n smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "So... what now?"
"How about we grab some real food?" Winter suggested. "I’m starving."
"Sounds good," Y/n grinned, already feeling better as they left the café together. Winter had handled everything just fine, but maybe, just maybe, Y/n didn’t mind being there for her—even if it meant being caught in the act.
32 notes · View notes
xtrashmammalstefx · 3 days
Text
All Shook Up! (An Austin Butler x Reader SMUT!)
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WARNING: SMUT, LANGUAGE, minors dni
Notes: SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKA! I know I've been gone for a while but in all fairness this summer just sucked balls and I'm just now getting back in the proper headspace to write/post. Idk what I'll write next but I promise there will be more stories coming. Anywhore I'll shut up now. Enjoy!!
PS: This is technically a sequel to Chaos Monster & Her English Gent but I think it can be read on its own. Okay shutting up for real now.
Sometimes my heart can be the stupidest piece of shit ever. It’s been weeks since that day in Callum’s dressing room, and only days since filming wrapped for the season. Callum’s been blowing up my phone constantly and Austin was now home for the time being until he had to go film his next project.
The day my heart fucked me over was one of those miraculous days when both Austin and I had the day off. Austin was spending it reading a new script, while I was just doing my best to relax.
Hello darling.
I chuckled and answered back.
Hey.
Bored already?
No.
I’m just missing my special girl is all.
I rolled my eyes just as the next text came through.
Send me a pic?
Doesn’t necessarily have to be sexual.
I just wanna see your pretty face.
“What you laughin’ at Priscilla?” Austin asked distracting me from my phone. He was in the arm chair looking at me; his script laying on his lap.
“Nothin. Just your boy being a fucking idiot,” I semi-lied. Austin still didn’t know about Callum and me...and if I was being honest I wasn’t too sure about Callum and me either. I’ve been accused of being too hasty with other things before and a part of me feared I was being to hasty with this too. Needing immediate distraction I raised my phone (camera on) and aimed it at Austin. “Smile baby.”
Austin looked up from his script and smiled without questioning it. I took the photo and sent it to Callum. “Do I even want to know what you’re doin’ over there babe?”
“Callum asked for a pic, but as you can see I currently look like shit,” I motioned at my messy bun (didn’t exactly feel like brushing out my hair that day), make-upless face, and bespectacled eyes.
“Darlin’ I hate to break it to you but never since I have known you have you looked like shit,” Austin said. Just then another message came through.
Sexy but you know that’s not what
I meant.
“Why does he want a pic anyway?” Austin asked.
I shrugged. “I think he just misses our stupid faces.
“Mm… I think it might be more than that sweetheart,” Austin said tossing his script onto the coffee table. “I saw the way he kept lookin’ at you on set. He looked at you like you were the finest piece of meat this side of the Atlantic. Which ain’t totally off base if I say so myself.” I scoffed at the idea but Austin continued to look serious. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know. It’s a shame that you don’t see it because I see it very clearly.”
I sighed and tossed my phone onto the coffee table before getting up and darting towards Austin. I sat down on his lap and cuddled into him. Austin chuckled deeply and wrapped his arms around me. Austin always gives the best hugs. “We really need to have more days like this.”
“Like what?” Austin asked resting his cheek on my head.
“Like this. Just you and me...like we’re the only ones in the world. Like nothing else matters as long as we’re both here, together, for forever…” It was then I felt Austin’s lips pressed themselves on my forehead.
“You’re already my whole world Y/N,” he muttered.
“And you’re mine,” I whispered pressing my lips against his cheek. It was something I had done many times throughout our friendship but this time… it felt different. This time he trembled at my touch. “You okay?”
He nodded. “Just all shook up I guess.”
“You fuckin’ dork,” I laughed before he was suddenly pulling me in. His lips enveloped mine sending a tingle up my spine. I know I should’ve pulled away...told him about Callum and hoped for the best but… I don’t know. For some reason I just… I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.
But I guess something else wanted it to end.
Ding dong.
Austin pulled back and sighed. “That would be our UberEats.” He carried me back to the sofa and sat me down before going to answer the door. Normally Austin would gladly cook for us but we both agreed that on that day we were feeling exceptionally lazy.
We didn’t really say anything as we had our Thai dinner. Just snuck glances at each other every now and then. At one point I think it became a little too much for him to handle for he swiped the box of Mango Sticky Rice I had started to dig in to. “Give it back.”
“Hell nah, not until you get talkin’.” Austin said continuing to hold the rice hostage.
“I am talking,” I said. “Give. It. Back.”
“Or. What? Sugar.” He smirked pushing my final button. I dropped my chopsticks and pounced on him.
“Fucking give me the rice!” I snapped at him trying to reach for my rice which he now held above his head.
“Not until we talk about what happened earlier,” he said.
“God dammit Austin, it wasn’t rocket science, it should be obvious why we―.”
“Stop…”
“What? I thought you wanted me to…”
“No, I mean stop grindin’ on me,” he said making me realize that as I had been trying to get my rice back, I was simultaneous rubbing myself on his clothed crotch causing him to stiffen.
“Okay, needless to say that is your fault,” I said freezing on top of him.
“How the hell is that my fault?” he asked. “I didn’t ask you to grind on me.”
“No, but you stole my rice,” I pointed out before carefully standing up. “So… what now?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I know I want this, but I can’t decide for you,” he said before slowly standing up. “So until you know for sure if what you felt was as real as what I’ve been feelin’ every day since we met, I’m gonna have to handle this with a cold shower.”
He left the kitchen soon after leaving me be for a few minutes. I was suddenly not hungry for rice or anything on the table so after a moment I stood up and started towards my room needing to just collapse for a bit.
As I approached the door though, Austin left his room wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. “Oh, uh, sorry, I forgot my new body wash in the shopping bag.” He continued towards the bathroom and left his body wash on the counter before turning back to face me. “Is-uh-there something you wanna talk about?” He asked noticing my transfixed stare. He’d been spending his off time these last few months and his current off day to do a little extra working out for his new role and damn did it show. His abs were more defined, and his ass more perked and firm. “Y/N? You okay darlin’?”
“Uh-um-yeah,” I said. “I’m fine….I’m…” He approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder.
“You sure?” I was suddenly filled with a different, much stronger, hunger. It had me practically screaming inside while outside it only had me placing my hand on his chest. “Y/N?” I reached up and connected my lips with his. His body froze at my touch for only a moment before he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. He pressed me against the nearby wall and let his lips fall to my neck. As he kissed and suck on my flesh I reached down and yanked at his towel, making it fall to his feet. I wrapped my hand around his length and gasped at the feeling of his size. He wasn’t too long but girthy as holy fuck. I tugged on him gently earning a growl like sound in return. I chuckled.
“You really are all shook up aren’t you Elvis?”
“Oh fuck yeah I am Priscilla,” he said before placing his hands on my legs and picking me up. “Fuck yeah I am.” I wrapped my legs around him and let him carry me to my bed.
He laid us down and reached to pull off my shirt. He peppered kisses all over my body as he rid me of my lazy-day clothes. Once my panties were gone he placed my legs on his shoulders and brought his lips to my core. I moaned louder than I ever had, earning a chuckle from Austin before he continued to suck and lick me until I was nice and slick. “I wasn’t there yet you jerk,” I groaned as he climbed back up.
“Relax darlin’, I’m just getting started,” He smirked before reaching down and giving himself a tug before placing himself at my entrance. Just the feeling of it there made my body tremble. “Like it?” I nodded. “Want it inside you?” I nodded again. “Okay then…” He thrust his lips sliding the tip inside me.
“Holy fucking shit!” I hissed.
“So tight sugar,” he groaned pushing in further. Tears filled my eyes as he continued to stretch me. “I ain’t hurtin’ ya too bad am I?” I shook my head. “Good, I’ll try not to but feel free to hit me if I do.”
“Just fuck me already Aus,” I muttered. He leaned down and kissed me deeply before bottoming out and pulling back again. He kept his pace slow and gentle while I grew use to him. I pecked his lips and held him so our bodies were pressed together. As he continued moving inside me I snaked my hand down his back and squeezed his ass. I was right, it was pretty damn firm.
“God you drive wild,” Austin chuckled.
“How wild?” I asked.
“Want me to answer or would you rather I just―.” He thrust into me harder. “Show you.” He started moving his hips faster making my back arch.
“Oh fuck!” I screamed as he continued to thrust into me like his life depended on it. After a while he kissed me again and brought his lips to my ear.
“You wanna ride me?” I nodded eagerly. He wrapped his arms around me and flipped us over so that I was on top. I moved my hips rough and fast. It was like my whole being was just feral for him. “Holy shit you’re so fucking good at that.” Austin moaned thrusting up into me as I continued to ride him. As he did he brought his fingers to my clit and started rubbing me. That’s when the pressure began to build up inside me. “You gonna cum sugar?” I groaned and nodded. “That’s alright just come right on me. There you go baby.”
My whole body froze as a shiver ran down my spine. I was damn near screaming as I tightened around him, damn near squeezing the life out of his cock. I had just started coming down from my high, still partially blinded by the mind-blowing orgasm, when Austin wrapped his arms around me again and flipped us so I was on the bed once again.
“God you’re so fucking tight around me,” he groaned as he continued to thrust into me, only a little sloppier this time. “Gah fuck I’m gonna cum!” He moaned more and more as he started getting close. “Wuh-Where do you want it?”
“In...Inside...Inside me.” I said still breathless.
“You- You sure about that sugar?” He asked growing more and more spastic.
“Yes, god yes… fuck a baby into me Aus…” No sooner had I said that that I felt him twitch inside me. A rainbow of curses left his mouth as his body shuttered to a stop. He collapsed on top of me and gave me a final kiss on my now swollen lips.
“I fucking love you Y/N,” he said. “I love you more than words can say.”
I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you too, Aus.”
He smiled and reached down to pull himself out of me. I hissed a bit when he did feeling a bit of a sting. “Sorry sugar.”
“It’s alright,” I assured him. He moved to lay down beside me and when he did I snuggled up to him. I fell asleep listening to the sound of his heart.
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girlsneedff · 16 hours
Text
NSFW- Minors and Ageless blogs please dni
Nepo-baby!Gojo x f!Reader, Gojo’s a loser/desperate, Modern AU, Masturbation (Gojo), slight public masturbation (tbh it’s just Satoru being down bad)
Word count: 4.5k
Author’s yap: Ok ok ok so- I started this when the lack of AC in my dorm was frying my brain, and it gave me an idea. Now I’m freezing my ass off and fantasizing about the heat. This isn’t too smutty, but if I’m still into this, I might expand… Enjoy pooks <3
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Dive In!
It’s hot as shit outside, and you know what that means: the college rec center pool’s gonna be packed.
Every god-forsaken year, the Earth teeters a bit too close to the Sun just around the time that students are moving those obnoxious highlighter-colored carts up and down the streets carrying their belongings. Everyone’s wiping their foreheads, a content sigh when they step into the lobby of the dorm building. This doesn’t last too long, unfortunately. Because as soon as you step onto a resident floor, let alone an actual dorm room, it’s like Satan pulled apart his ass cheeks and sandwiched you right in between ‘em.
Hot as shit and there’s no AC, so for the very unlucky majority who didn’t bring a fan (as instructed by housing, who don’t live under these conditions, mind you), they’re stuck sizzling in their dorms, hopelessly opening their dusty windows for wishing for any semblance of a draft to come in.
It’s miserable. But luckily, there’s a solution! And no, it’s not fighting someone’s mom for the last desk fan in Target.
It’s the university’s recreational pool! Open to all students, it’s like a gift from Heaven (or a college alumni). Everyone, and I mean everyone, is there.
It’s like a big pool party (albeit indoors)- everyone’s got some sort of appendage in the water, trying to cool off. A few girls have their towels set up on the side, lying on their stomach as they scroll on their phone or read a book. A couple of people brought a beach ball- tossing it around. You're sitting on the side chatting with your roommate, Shoko, kicking your feet into the water, as she leans on the rim of the pool, hair up in a clip.
“I don’t get why they haven’t installed any AC units- or even central air.”
“If they even think about renovating, G. Hall will literally fall into smithereens.”
Shoko jokes, resting her chin in her hand as she looks up at you, tiredly.
“As if the Gojo clan wouldn’t be able to donate more money for a renovation. That’s pocket money for them.” You yawn, drained too. The heat is tiring. Especially after the two of you just finished setting up your dorm together for the third year in a row- this time, without your parents to help y’all. Y’all were burning up, and you needed to cool down- real bad.
You do a scan of the pool. Some familiar faces, others not so much. The school’s big as shit, and you keep to yourself and your group- you don’t need to know everybody. Yuki’s in the water with her boyfriend, playing chicken with some other people. She’s got a death grip on his pigtails, almost as if she’s steering him around, smothering his face between her thighs. A guy named Kento- your study partner from last year- is over by the stairs to the pool- wanting to be in it, but not completely submerged. He seems to be enjoying his time by himself. Ino and his boys are the ones hitting around the beach ball, splashing around in the extremely crowded pool.
“Look at all of our sorry asses…” You mutter, sighing as you sip on a drink you brought.
“When I didn’t want summer to end, I wasn’t talkin about the heat. But whatever. 2 more weeks being in the 8th circle of hell, and it’s back to our regularly scheduled progra- oh my-” Shoko stops mid sentence, her eyes glued to something as she hits your thigh profusely.
“What- what? Yaga in a jock strap?” You finally turn and see him (Shoko side eyes you- why would you want to look at Yaga in a jock strap). The man, The myth. The… nuisance.
“I thought he was too good to come here and hang with the common folk.”
“Maybe he wanted to cosplay as a broke college student like the rest of us for a day.”
Satoru Gojo- ultimate legacy, trust fund baby, nepo spawn, and just all-around spoiled brat. And he’s proud of it. Wearing blue Versace swim shorts and his sunglasses indoors, which only works for him with his scary ass eyes, he saunters into the place, expressing unbelievable childlike wonder at the sight of the pool.
“So this is what a public pool is like!”
“You don’t have to sound pretentious.” Suguru quips, walking in front of his best friend to scan the area. It’s crowded as a bitch in this place.
“I’m just- amazed, that's all. And you come here by yourself?”
“No. With other friends. Because I’m likable.”
Satoru frowns at that, shifting his beach chair under his arm uncomfortably.
“And it’s not like you’d come.” This was true. Under normal circumstances, Satoru wouldn’t step foot in this place. The water wouldn’t be good for his skin. But, when his pool’s getting renovated, he figures that he has no choice. He thought that there would be 5, maybe 10 people there. Well, he now knows he was wrong; almost all of JJU: Tokyo is here. And he’s now also made aware of the fact that most students don’t have AC.
He follows behind Suguru as he leads them through the crowd of bodies, the heat radiating from them all damn near breaking Satoru out into a sweat.
“Here- and lean that chair up against the wall or something. It’ll take up too much space.” Suguru says, as he hunkers down on the floor, scooting up to the clearing at the rim of the pool. He smooths the back of his hair up, readjusting his ponytail, sighing when his legs hit the water.
Yea… Satoru’s not doin that. He brought this chair, and he’s gonna use it, spatial awareness be damned. Ignoring all of the dirty looks he gets from people, he sets his chair right next to his friend (who is pretending not to know him) and sits, reclining with a dramatic sigh that only Satoru could argue was authentic. He crosses his legs and puts his hands woven behind his head, looking up and basking… in the industrial light.
“You can’t tan under this IKEA lighting.” Suguru says, not even bothering to look in Satoru’s direction.
“Yea- well, what do you propose that I do?” Satoru can feel himself getting slightly irritated with this public pool shit.
“Get in the water. That’s what we came here for, right.”
Satoru clumsily folds up his chair, not even bothering to go lean it against the wall in fear that he’d lose his sliver of access to the water (he doubts that Suguru would save it for him right now to be honest). Slowly but surely, he eases himself down into the water, holding his breath. He can already feel that he’s goin to need several bubble baths (extra bubbles) after this. He even closes his eyes, wading in the water and trying to get comfortable.
And then Satoru jumps into something. With a slight jolt, he looks over his shoulder and he’s gobsmacked seeing you look back at him, glasses threatening to fall off his dripping face.
He quickly gathers himself, pushing his glasses up then running his hand through his hair. And then he subtly recoils, realizing he just let that filthy shit in his scalp.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Shoko’s got a shit-eating grin on her face, as you look at this man, somewhat horrified. Never did you think that you would ever meet this man face to face, but here he is- back to leg. And he’s hot- I mean, not in the physical way (well, you don’t think he’s bad looking but-) he’s quite literally hot to the touch. It’s abnormal- his body temperature’s like magma.
“Sorry.” He gives you a faint smile, the right dimple he has showing slightly.
“No worries.”
There’s a period of silence, and you take this opportunity to try and turn back to your friend, but he pipes up.
“I’m Satoru, by the way. What’s your name?”
You turn to look at him, gears turning in your head as your decide whether or not you want to give him a fake name or-
Yuki calls your name from the center of the pool and you almost curse at the timing.
“Wanna hop in this round?” She calls, Choso’s hands on her thighs to steady her while her hands are cupped around her mouth, calling out to you. Choso brings them closer.
“No, I’m ok. I don’t have a partner-”
“I’ll be your partner.” Satoru practically has stars in his eyes. "If... you want me to be, though. I'm a stranger, so- so stranger danger…”
Oh brother, he’s rich and a fuckin loser.
"So you wanna play, rich boy?" Yuki asks him, completely neglecting the shudder that both you and Satoru do in response to his whack ass comment. Shit, even Choso winces in response, trying to regulate his usually very expressive face just in case Satoru sees, tells his clan, and Choso’s scholarship ends up revoked.
Satoru manages to stammer out a yes, though followed by him saying he understands if he wasn't invited to play.
"This is not kindergarten- you can play with the big kids." She jokes, hopping off her boyfriend's shoulders and into the water.
"I'll be your partner for this round, if that helps. I’m good at it, don’t worry." You're absolutely elated that Yuki offered herself- you're not sure if you would have been able to team up with Satoru. You and Choso are cool, exchanging a grin as you hop off of the ledge of the pool, plowing through the water over to him.
"Ok...."
"..."
"How do you play chicken?"
Good grief.
“I’ll teach you, then.” Yuki wades over to Satoru, and his lips contort into a nervous grin. He just prays that he doesn’t embarrass himself (anymore than he already has) in front of you.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Satoru ain't shit at playing chicken.
“I’m best friends with a bubble boy…” Suguru mutters under his breath, running his hand painstakingly over his face as he watches Satoru look like a cat in water.
Any splash to his face, and he's completely selling, allowing Yuki to fall off (much to her dismay) or giving you and Choso enough time to make y'all's way over to them to attack. It was to the point that your body was completely dry, save for your feet. Slowly but surely though (after like, 5 rounds), he begins to get the hang of it, getting over his disdain for this rancid water touching his face and accepting the fact that he'll have to do several deep cleanings of his pores when he gets home.
He's actually starting to have fun- settling more into the atmosphere and letting his competitiveness show. And you're not minding it. You were dreading having to interact with him at first, let alone play a game with him because you thought that he would be a dick, but you were wrong. Well, not exactly wrong- but he was less dicky than you thought.
“Ok- time to switch for the next round!” Yuki says with a smile (which looks slightly elated, in your opinion) as she hops off of Satoru’s shoulders.
“Hm? We don’t stay with the same partners every round?” Satoru asks- something you were also thinking. For once you too seem to be on the same page about this game.
“No! We switch every round.” What a goddamn liar. She’s just tired of losing because the pretty princess is scared of getting his face wet.
This means that you’re stuck with the pretty princess. Fuck.
You slowly climb down Choso, who is simultaneously welcoming his girlfriend with open arms. Satoru’s mind is moving a mile a minute with every little ripple of water to inadvertently send in his direction.
You make your way over to the ledge of the pool, hoisting yourself up, and by Heaven- Satoru can see your ass jiggle out of his peripheral and he almost seizes. You turn around, and sit on the ledge, just looking at him. And he swears he’s getting closer to going into cardiac arrest with every second of him being the center of your attention.
“Come here-” You beckon, motioning for him with your hand. He nods helplessly, trying not to look too desperate with how fast he’s moving to you.
“Now I’m not as good as Yuki, so if we lose, it’s not entirely on you this time.” You smile, scooting up, placing your legs over his shoulders. Good lord does this man smell… expensive. It’s good. I’m not talking played out Dior Savauge, I’m talking Hermès, Dolce and Gabbana. You’re a sucker for a good smelling man. Even if this one is quite literally the most dramatic man on Earth.
“I’m not good at all, so anything you do I’ll watch with awe.” He places his hands on your thighs- jeez, his hands are big.
You laugh, thinking he’s joking. He’s not.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
You shift nervously on Satoru's shoulders, while Satoru is quite literally in Heaven- though, he would prefer it if his face were the other way. He has never been this close to a woman outside of his family, so this entire interaction was rocking his small little world. He's keeping his hands on your thighs while his mind is completely mush, his ears are flushed. It’s like as soon as you got on his shoulders, his ability to comprehend anything said to him was decimated.
“Satoru- Satoru!”
You call to him as Choso and Yuki splash towards you, Yuki’s face wearing a huge smile now that she’s got the upper hand. You call him again, and all this bumbling buffoon can manage to say to you is “Uh-huh, u-uh-huh.”
(Shoko runs to the bathroom, almost peeing herself from laughing too hard.)
Fuck it- thinking quick, you grab a hold of his hair, trying to Remi-Ratatouille him around. And surprisingly- it works!
Left you go!
Right- to the riiiighhhhhhhhttttt-
Satoru has no fuckin idea what’s going on right now. He’s just happy to be here, a grinning mess while you pull him around the pool, narrowly avoiding Yuki, who’s maniacal laughter trails behind the two of you. 
It’s like riding a horse the way he thoughtlessly follows your pull.
“Satoru- are you ok?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at your opponents. You’re hoping that your teammate will stop being so useless, gain back consciousness, and help you the fuck out.
Getting desperate, you palm the side of his face, shaking it. Suddenly, he stops moving, and it’s like his breath is caught in his throat- a sound was caught in it? You don’t know what happened, because the next thing you knew, Yuki and Choso came crashing into you, causing you and Satoru to fly into the water. 
Gasping for air, you paddle in the water, eyes burning profusely. Satoru comes up soon after this, and you glare at him. 
His cheeks are flushed, as he lets out deep, heavy breaths. “Sorry..” Is all he could seem to muster out, giving you a nervous grin.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Satoru’s starting to get the hang of it. Ok maybe not really- but he’s more active at least. You appreciate that, as well as the banter he’s contributing. His socially inept demeanor is slowly dissolving, and he’s flinching less and less at the water.
You’re actually having a lot of fun with him.
“You guys can’t keep running forever!” Yuki yells, getting kind of frustrated from how the two of you keep slipping out of her grasp.
“Oh really? watch us.” Satoru’s grip tightens on your thighs as he splashes around to put more distance between y’all, causing you to squeal. 
“Satoru if I fall- go slow!” You say in between laughing fits. 
“Just hold on, and you won’t!”
Maybe you too had a fighting chance with this. Actually- you think you might win at least a round or two.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
You two lost. Miserably. Yuki’s a fucking beast, and Choso’s the definition of an immovable force. You guys could only get away from them for so long- let’s not forget the pool’s crowded as shit. Y’all didn’t stand a chance. But hey- Satoru’s not too bad. Maybe he was just having a rough time adjusting to talking to people who don’t have a networth of $1 million+. But it was fun, you can not lie.
Satoru’s laugh is airy while he allows you to get off of his shoulders, listening to you teasing him for his performance. You shuffle yourself back onto the ledge of the pool next to Shoko, who seems to be in deep conversation with Suguru.
“I never thought that someone could be that bad at Chicken.”
“Hey- I prefaced this entire thing with the fact that I didn’t know how to play.” He laughs again- he’s so giggly right now, removing himself from between your legs and going to the area next to you, places his head in his hand while he looks up at you.
“Yea, but that bad?”
“Mention it again and I’ll have a meeting with Financial Aid about you.” 
The both of you crack up.
…He’s kind of pretty- somewhere in the game he pushed his sunglasses up onto his hair, wet strands of white sticking to his forehead.The sight of his smile warms you up a bit inside. When he’s down here with the common people, he’s a pretty cool person to be around.
“I can see why you don’t come here often, then.” You say, tiling your head towards him.
“Ah, well, I usually just go to my par-” Satoru’s voice dies off. How about he doesn’t talk about his privilege for a bit. Cosplay a normal college student for a little- at least with you. He wants to relate to you- to get to know you on all levels- as much as humanly possible. 
“I… just didn’t see a purpose for it before. But this was fun.”
“A sign for you to come more often, then.”
“Will you be here?”
You smirk. “Why, so you can get our asses whooped in a game again?”
He grins, right dimple once again making an appearance.
“Just asking- the poop- pool- pool. Fuck. The pool’s nice.” He sighs- covering his face in embarrassment, cheeks swelled up with blood. 
“Sorry. Waterlog.”
You burst out laughing- his slip up and awkward responses are starting to grow on you. It’s cute.
“Well I’m sure that you have AC, so you don’t have to worry too much about being hot and sticky in a room.”
“Mmmwell,” He takes a breath, “I wouldn’t mind being hot and sticky with- hm.”
He pauses, letting his embarrassment settle in. “I’ll stop trying to talk now.”
This gets another giggle from you. “You could just say that it would be nice to see me again.” You adjust your bikini bottoms (haha) up on your hips, and then place your hand to your side to lean closer to him.
“It would be, yes.”
“I guess it wouldn’t be too bad to see you, either.”
“Satoru. We gotta go-” Suguru stands up from the ledge with a stretch. “We needa go grab groceries for the apartment.”
Satoru groans. He swiftly hoists himself up out of the water effortlessly (he hopes that you were watching, thanking the lord that he constantly worked out at the apartment gym) and quickly grabs his chair, holding it in front of himself.
“I’ll see you- and the pool again.” 
“Mhm.” You wave him bye while he trails behind Suguru out of the pool room.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
He came in the pool.
He. Fucking. Came. 
Sperm swimming in the chlorine.
He doesn't even know how it happened. With every tug of his white tufts, his dick throbbed and twitched, rubbing against the fabric of his swim shorts in a way that was driving him mad. He was already fighting for his life with having your pussy pressed up against the back of his neck. And the way that you called his name- Oo, it was dizzying for him.
Next thing he knew, your hand was on his face, and he was biting the shit out of his tongue trying not to moan, knees buckling while he shoots into the water.
And you smiled at him!
He practically talked Suguru’s ear off (nothing new) in the car about it while on the drive back to their apartment. Besides the cumming in his pants part- nah, he’s taking that to the grave. He was just so giddy about the day. His first flirtatious interaction with the opposite sex! How exciting!
“Yea yea I get it she’s so pretty, you get hard thinking about her, and you come in your pants just thinkin about her. Can we get out of fantasyland and go into Trader Joe’s now?”
Suguru rolls his eyes, looking out the passenger seat window, his arm hanging out. Satoru flushes.
“Why would anybody cum in the pool?”
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
But yes, where was he? Oh yea, his hand’s fisting his cock.
He doesn’t know how his hand ended up there.
Oh, he was so pathetic today. He couldn’t even speak normally to you, let alone touch you without short-circuiting. And the way you looked at him. Like he was an absolute idiot- he’s never had anyone look at him like that before… except Suguru but it’s not the same. In a weird way, it turns him on. At least he redeemed himself slightly in the end, while he was subtly rubbing himself against the pool walls, the small dips in the tiling making the friction so much more enjoyable. 
What a fucking loser, getting off to the sound of your voice- and in a public place? Your pretty little laugh did wonders to him. And to be under your gaze with such scrutiny- ohmygod he was so happy he brought that chair, using it to cover his hard-on as he smiled at you like an idiot, following behind his best friend like a preschooler going back inside after recess.
He loved seeing how you adjusted your bathing-suit, nipples becoming erect as soon as you got out of the pool. The way that your pussy was a flimsy cloth away from coming into real contact with him- he is swimming in his thoughts right now.
And you smelt so good- it’s definitely nothing he’s ever smelt before (because he’s been close to any woman that’s had a scent worth below $200). The smell is just so- you (he plans on driving to every single fragrance store to pinpoint said scent so he can spray it on his pillow to smell while he plays with himself).
There’s nothing he wouldn’t give to have you splayed out on his bed with his head between your thighs, eating you out until you’re frantically calling for him, a tight grip on his hair the way that only you can do. Fucking his hand while you moan, for him- he’d go bankrupt to hear it. He would make you feel good- he knows it- he’ll make it his life’s mission. The little stutters and quivers you’d make when you would get close, pleading for him to make you cum. And don’t even get him started on how he would feel when his cock sinks into you. He’s confident that he wouldn’t last any longer within five minutes. As soon as he pushes past the rim, he’d be shooting ropes. So he’d have to eat you out first to save the little slivers of his dignity that he has left.
He wonders- would you think he was big? Would you struggle taking him? Fuck, seeing you whine and moan, begging him with cute little “slow down”s and whimpering about how good he’s stretching your cunt. 
He’s so stuck up in the way that your hands entangled themselves into his hair- fuck- he lets out a helpless whine as he continues his fuck sesh, moving his hand upupup, the ring of precum chasing his hand with each stroke. You used his body with little regard to how he would feel- not like he cared. You could use him however the hell you’d like. Fuck, his dick was aching with each tug. 
And you got in that water. 
He’s filthy- just so- so depraved for the way that that makes him harder, causing him to stroke himself faster. You were practically bathing in his cum, albeit unknowingly. How fucking nasty is that? He pictures you accidentally swallowing it- what would it be like watching you actually take it? Would you replicate your teary, chlorine-stung eyes while you were on your knees for him, throat fucked-out, tongue lolled, and waiting for his cum?
With that, he’s seeing stars, shooting comets onto his satin sheets, utterances of “Oh fuck”s and “I’m cumming”s, and finally, with a sigh, says your name while his lower torso twitches from the sensitivity, accompanied with the cool breeze his fan is blowing onto his handless cock.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
“The amount of emails we’ve been getting about the heat is starting to get a bit concerning, I must admit.” One of the chairs of the university says, mouth full of food. 
All of the important figure heads of the college are sitting at the Gojo family’s long dinner table, conversing like the old buddies they are. It’s a usual thing for them to do, where they chat about stupid, unimportant uppity-rich people things, like school funding or whatever.
“What do you think we should do about this?” The housing chair directs this question to Satoru’s father, who opens his mouth before his son interrupts quickly, voice booming in the confident air that he learned to develop with people in (or slightly below- not too far below) his tax bracket.
“My friend’s in the dorms say that the dorms are pretty cool- It’s cold in there, even.” Satoru says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders while he pushes his wagyu around on his plate. 
What a fuckin liar, but it’s the cross he’s willing to bare in order to see you again. Bikini covering the parts that make his mouth water, fanning yourself from the heat- hot and bothered, just like him. It’ll be worth the possible pimples he’ll get.
With this, the big-wigs frame their decision around this.
“Oh, really? It’s already so cold…”
“it would also mean that we would have to expand the budget.”
“The students should be fine without AC. If anything, the pool is open.”
Satoru looks down, smiling to himself.
If the students of Jujutsu University: Tokyo knew that the only reason they’re not getting AC units is because Satoru Gojo, all-around nepo-baby, spoiled brat, and pussy-whipped loser wants to have a chance to see the girl he fucks himself to at the pool again, they’d barbeque and skewer him alive.
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ravenlilyrose · 7 hours
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I just had a thought.
Damian is the murder Robin, the sword Robin, right? And you’d think that would make him the scariest, but I don’t think it would.
Because Gotham knows how to deal with swords. Gotham knows how to deal with people who put murder way to early on the list of possible solutions. That’s basically mundane to them.
But what terrified the criminals of Gotham was what Robin used to be.
Childish laughter that bounces off walls, seems to come out of nowhere. Quips and scathing remarks delivered like they’re on the elementary school playground in Metropolis, not a dark alley in Gotham. A blue of yellow and red dropping down into the middle of your drug deal or flipping overhead like gravity doesn’t apply to them.
Most of it started with young Dick. And his laugh changed as he grew up and so did his humor. But what Robin had going on worked so well. So he kept throwing that childish laugh out to bounce off walls so it seemed like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere. So he made sure to be just as ridiculous and scathing as ever in his quipping.
And then Jason and Tim came along. And at that point they were still mostly trying to pretend like it had always been the same kid. So they learned the cackle and how to throw it. They practiced quips at home before patrol until they finally learned how to relax and let them come. They might never be as effortlessly airborne as Dick, but they learned how to fly.
And then Steph came along, and while she occasionally tried to gaslight people into believing either that she was a dark-haired boy or that Robin had always been a blonde girl, there was no way they were going to fool everybody.
And by the time Damian came along things were different. Which was good, because he insisted on carrying a sword and was too serious to laugh like Robin and he spoke more like a wealthy Victorian than a child sometimes. He could never have passed for Dick or Jason or Tim’s Robin.
The children of Gotham never feared any Robin. Those who had heard Robin laugh tried to copy it. If they overheard a quip they told all their friends about it and spent days trying out their own on each other. Robin was theirs and Robin was them and they were all Robin.
But the criminals (and even some of the non-criminal adults) were terrified of Robin. Sure, Batman was scary, but Robin was unexpected, like something out of a horror movie, almost uncanny valley territory.
Now, the children still don’t fear Robin, not with over a decade of trust and love built up. They might hesitate more to approach the newest Robin, but they still love him because he’s Robin.
And the criminals do fear him. He can disrupt their operations and send them to jail and he does carry a sword. You’d have to be stupid not to be at least a little afraid of someone who carries a sword and knows how to use it.
But he doesn’t haunt their nightmares, waking or sleeping. The younger criminals, who never had to encounter a cackling, brightly colored Robin don’t understand the way the elders talk about Robin. Sure he’s scary, but not more than the bat or the other birds. Not more than a rival gang or a minor rogue.
Basically, I think the early Robins were the scariest. Dick and Jason and Tim.
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the-violet-galaxy · 3 days
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Moon in the Killswap AU, to go along with Sun! This Swap AU explores TSAMS if Sun had been the one with the killcode – and by extension, Moon is the one Eclipse manifests inside of.
The twins’ backstory is almost the same as canon. Moon was born with no control over the body, and was angry and lashed out at Sun for this (and was an asshole to pretty much everyone else when he did have control.)  Sun was afraid of him, but still tried to reach out. They came to an understanding, became brothers, and found a way to separate.
Where the backstory differed is with Sun. His killcode was like a switch that activated when he was pushed to a limit, reacting to abuse, mistreatment, the breaking of rules. Moon’s abuse was one of the things that could trigger Sun’s killcode, which emotionally destroyed Sun every time he came back to himself to find someone dead by his hands; during these early years, Moon was so bitter about his circumstances that he sometimes egged Sun on and mocked him for his efforts to not kill people.
But eventually, he knew Sun was not to blame, and wanted to change for the better. He wanted to help Sun suppress his Killcode. So, he separated them, so they could start a new chapter in their lives.
But Sun considered himself too weak to ever fully control his killcode – so while they were in the process of separating, he secretly snuck it through the datastream into Moon’s head, who he thought would never be affected by it.
And Eclipse manifested inside of Moon, who was “Sun” trapped alone within the mind of his abuser…
And a year later Eclipse shows up and begins his crusade to ruin the brothers’ lives and to find the Star to bring order to the world! While inside Moon, he starts amplifying Moon’s faults. He eggs on his abusive behavior towards Sun, his assholish behavior to others, and, one of Moon’s biggest struggles: his controlling nature.
Because these are all faults that Moon has, and Eclipse shines an especially strong light on them. This causes tension between the brothers as they try to figure out what to do, when Eclipse keeps hijacking Moon’s body in search of that Star.
(Especially when Sun’s killcode starts regenerating, and as with before, when Moon is abusive towards Sun, that is one of the big triggers to make the killcode’s influence stronger and stronger until Killcode as a sapient entity is strong enough to be born. For Sun’s arc, the killcode is like a metaphor for “taking revenge and hurting the people who hurt you back,” which Sun desperately wants to fight against.)
And so, one of the big parts of the AU is Moon having to learn to be a better person – to keep changing for the better -- to unlearn his abusive patterns. That will be the key.  
Because one thing’s for sure: Sun is the most important person in Moon’s world. Even during the times when he hurts him, he still loves him more than anything. He vows he WILL protect Sun (and the rest of his family that come later), he will keep Eclipse from the Star so he can’t use it to kill them, he will save Sun when Solar is implanted in his head (and later, protect Solar when he is their brother), he will find a way to remove Sun’s killcode when it regenerates and becomes sentient.
(But it won’t be that easy. And, well, when things keep NOT going his way, Moon might end up with a very unhappy arc that ends in disastrous consequences the way it did for Sun when Sun killed Bloodmoon…)   
And that’s an overview for Moon!
Some other notes:
Moon has very little knowledge of Magig. Sun is the master magic user.
Moon is the one who suffered July 16 because of the Blacksun Burn Twins, and boy is he mad at them.
Roxanne replaces Monty and is Sun’s close friend. Whether there is a crush or not, Moon still teases Sun about having a crush on Roxanne.
It’ll be fun to write how Moon interacts differently with Solar and Killcode when they control Sun’s body. (He first realizes Solar is in there when Solar isn’t good at acting happy and jittery like Sun.) (But he haaaaates Killcode’s guts sososo much you guys.)
(It will also shine a light on Killswap Moon’s difference between Old Moon and New Moon from TSAMS canon.)  
That’s him! I should probably draw Eclipse next!
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lefteagleblizzard · 19 hours
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𝔉𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔬𝔦𝔡
Mike Schmidt X male reader
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For this I combined both a suggestion that I received and a request from two really nice person on tumblr.
-“Reader moving in with Mike, this contains Mike bridal carrying reader”
-“If you're willing. I was wondering about a baby making one? I know medically men can't get pregnant but that doesn't stop Mike from filling him up whenever he wants. We hardly see Male Reader and their family. Maybe they're at a gathering and his family is warm and welcoming towards Mike and Abby which is a complete contrast to his aunt. Male Reader is holding a baby from one of his cousins and Mike sees this and starts to think and even fantasize what their baby would look like and it just sets him off.”
Tags: Part 6 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Reader moving in with Mike. Fluff. Reader holding a baby. Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Reader being called “good boy”. Breeding kink. Handjob (M receiving). Anal sex. NO male pregnancy.
Words count: 7000
Can also be found on wattpad and ao3
Part 1-part 2-part 3-part 4-part 5
The day had finally come. After everything the two of you had been through, you were moving in with Mike Schmidt. It felt surreal, and your heart raced at the thought of starting this new chapter together.
You stand at the doorstep of Mike's house, a series of boxes piled up around you, some heavy with your belongings, others light but carrying significant memories.
Mike stands next to you, hands stuffed into his pockets as he shifts his weight slightly, his gaze flicking toward you every few moments. He's always been quiet, never the type to rush into anything without thinking it through, and now is no different.
His posture might seem relaxed, but you know him well enough by now to see the subtle signs of his own nerves: the slight furrow in his brow, the way his lips press into a thin line, and the tension that hums through his body like a drawn bowstring.
"You ready for this?" he asks after a long moment, his voice low, almost cautious, as if he's unsure whether you'll change your mind.
You hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then you nod, giving him a small smile. "Yeah. I am."
But there's a tremor in your voice that betrays your nerves.
Mike picks up on your hesitation, and for a brief moment, he looks concerned. His hand reaches out and gently rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your skin in a reassuring gesture. "Hey," he murmurs softly, "we don't have to do this if you're not sure. You don't have to rush into anything."
You shake your head, quickly dismissing the thought. "No, I want this, Mike. I want to be here... with you."
Mike's gaze softens, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. There's a vulnerability in his eyes that makes your heart ache. A part of him that's afraid you might still change your mind, that you'll decide this life with him is too complicated.
The weight of the decision you made pressed down a little harder than you had expected.
A life with Mike, with Abby, with all the struggles and responsibilities that come with it.
"It's just... new, I guess. Feels different now" you admitted, trying to shrug it off.
Before you can say anything else, Mike steps closer, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you effortlessly off the ground. You yelp in surprise, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he pulls you against his chest.
Though his previous jobs were short-lived, they left him with a physique that spoke volumes.
"Mike!" you protest, though there's no real objection in your voice. Your heart pounds in your chest, not just from the surprise of being lifted but from the way he's holding you, cradling you as if you're something precious.
He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. "What? You're moving in with me. Gotta make it memorable, right?" He looks down at you, his expression playful but tender.
"Mike, you're going to destroy your back doing this," you laugh, playfully pushing against his chest. "I still need you fully intact, you know?"
He grins down at you, his eyes tired but full of that familiar teasing light. "Oh, is that so?" His voice is laced with amusement, and he shifts his grip on you, making sure you're comfortable in his arms.
"Yeah," you nod, biting back another laugh. "Who's going to deal with all the paperwork for Abby? I don't think I'm qualified."
Mike chuckles, glancing briefly toward the door before meeting your eyes again. "Well, good thing you're already taking care of me, huh?" His voice drops into a playful tone, his gaze warm yet sharp with affection.
The front door creaks open as Mike pushes it with his foot, stepping inside with you still in his arms.
You've been here so many times, but now the context is different.
Now, it's your space too.
The house smells like it always does. Coffee, faint traces of Abby's art supplies, and something distinctly Mike.
"I thought I'd show you around the place. You know, just in case you've forgotten where everything is."
You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. "I think I can remember, thanks."
"Too late," he replied, carrying you through the front hallway. "This tour is mandatory."
He walked slowly, allowing you to enjoy the feeling of being held so close, the feeling of his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you.
"So, this is where we'll spend most of our time when Abby's not commanding our attention," he said, his voice rich with amusement. "TV, couch... you know, in case you forgot.
"I didn't forget," you said, rolling your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips.
He carried you past the kitchen. "And here's where you'll be the head chef."
"Head chef? Me?" You raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure you're the one who does most of the cooking."
"Guess that's my way of saying I expect a few dinners from you every now and then."
The tour continued, with Mike stopping by random objects to remind you of things you didn't need reminding of. He was clearly enjoying himself.
As Mike carried you towards Abby's room, you could hear the soft hum of a pencil scratching against paper. He paused at the door, glancing down at you. "Ready to say hi?"
You nodded, feeling your heart swell as he opened the door. Inside, Abby sat at her little desk, surrounded by her favorite crayons and paper, deeply engrossed in one of her many creative projects.
When she noticed you both, she glanced up and froze for a moment, her eyes wide in mock horror. She quickly put down her crayon and scrunched up her nose.
"Ew!" she exclaimed, giggling. "Why are you carrying him like that, Mike?"
"Because he's moving in, and I'm giving him the royal treatment," Mike said, grinning.
Abby dramatically rolled her eyes, though the grin on her face betrayed her. "Gross," she teased, but you could see the amusement in her eyes, happy to see her brother smiling. "Are you gonna carry him everywhere now?"
"Maybe," Mike replied. "Depends on how much he likes it."
Abby went back to her drawing, still muttering playful disgust under her breath. "I don't get why grown-ups have to be so weird," she said, shaking her head like she was far wiser than her age.
Mike carried you effortlessly down the hallway, until he stopped at the familiar doorway that led to his bedroom—your bedroom now. His grip on you tightened just a bit, the playful smile never leaving his face as he nudged the door open with his foot.
Mike took a slow, exaggerated step into the room, still carrying you, his voice low and teasing. "And here we are... your new bedroom," he said, his grin widening as he glanced down at you. "What do you think? Fancy enough for you?"
You couldn't help but laugh softly, your head resting against his chest as you took in the space. It wasn't grand or overly elaborate, but it was Mike's room, the place you'd shared countless quiet moments together, and now it was yours too.
"Not too shabby." you teased back, though your heart swelled at the thought of this being your shared space.
Mike's lips quivered in a small, knowing smile, and he glanced toward the bed, his gaze lingering there for just a moment before returning to meet yours. He finally settled you down on your feet, but his hands lingered on your waist, keeping you close.
"Now that you're living here," he said, his voice low, almost a murmur, "there's a lot more we can do... together."
The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. There was no mistaking the hint in his voice. You swallowed, feeling the flush of warmth creeping up your neck, but Mike didn't stop there.
He shifted closer, his body pressing lightly against yours, his hand sliding up from your waist to rest against your lower back, pulling you just a little closer, enough to feel the solid warmth of him. "Like..." he continued, his voice dropping an octave as he tilted his head slightly, "all those nights where you had to go back to your dorm. We won't have to do that anymore."
His thumb rubbed slow, teasing circles against your back, his breath warm against your cheek as he leaned in closer. "You'll be here, with me. In our bed. Every night."
The way he said it wasn't just about comfort, it was laced with desire, with a promise of something more.
"And that means," he continued, his lips brushing lightly against your ear now, "there's no reason to rush things anymore, is there?" His tone was teasing, but there was a clear, intimate edge to it. "No more sneaking around, trying to find time between your classes and Abby's naps. We can take our time... really take our time."
You shuddered slightly at his words, feeling your breath hitch in your throat as he pressed his body even closer to yours, the warmth of him wrapping around you.
Mike smirked, clearly noticing the effect he was having on you. "We'll have the whole night to ourselves," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, rougher.
His fingers trailing along your spine, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake as they made their way up to your neck, cupping the back of your head. He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a jolt of heat through you. "I could take my time with you. No rushing... just you and me.”
"But if it's too much for you," he said, pulling back just slightly so he could meet your eyes, a teasing glint in his gaze, "I could sleep on the couch."
You rolled your eyes, trying to shake off the heat that was pooling in your stomach.
"Mike," you started, trying to sound exasperated, but your voice came out softer than you intended.
His grin widened, clearly pleased with your reaction. "I'm serious," he said, his tone light. "If you're not ready to share the bed, I could crash on the couch. No big deal."
You laughed softly, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for you to visit with his mouth wide open, completely knocked out.
"You probably wouldn't mind it," you teased, your cheeks still warm from his earlier words. "Considering how peaceful you looked the last time I found you there"
His face turned a slight shade of pink, and he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, God, you remember that?"
You laughed, nodding. "Yeah, I remember. I didn't have the heart to wake you up... until Abby started laughing and pointing at you."
He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the memory. "She still teases me about that."
You grinned, leaning into him a little more. "I'm just saying, you seemed pretty comfortable."
He chuckled, his hands slipping down to rest on your hips again, pulling you flush against him. "Maybe," he said, his voice low, "but I'd much rather be comfortable here." He glanced toward the bed again, his meaning unmistakable. "With you."
Your heart skipped a beat, and the room suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. There was no more sneaking around, no more stolen moments. This was real, and it was yours.
The weight of your decision settling comfortably in your chest. Mike gives you a quick peck on the lips before the two of you start to haul the remaining boxes inside.
The evening light filters dimly through the thin curtains in Mike's room as you continue to unpack your last things, methodically folding your clothes and placing them in neat piles.
The scent of Mike's cologne lingers in the air. Every drawer you open, every corner you claim for your belongings feels like a small step toward the life you're building together.
As you place a few small keepsakes on the windowsill, trying to find just the right spot for each one, something outside catches your ear.
At first, it's just a low murmur, the sound of voices carried on the breeze, but then the tone shifts, and suddenly the voices grow louder. You pause, your hand hovering over the sill, curiosity getting the best of you.
An argument between two people
The words are indistinct at first, but there's no mistaking the sharp edges in the voices.
Before you even think about it, you find yourself crouching by the window, gently pulling the edge of the curtain aside just enough to peek through. The sliver of space allows you a glimpse of the scene outside.
Two neighbors, standing in their driveway, are engaged in what looks like a full-on shouting match. One of them, a man, is gesturing wildly, his hands flailing in the air as he yells something you can't quite make out.
The other, a woman, stands with her arms crossed, her posture rigid, and you can practically feel the tension between them, even from inside the house.
You bite your lip, trying to stifle the laugh bubbling up inside you.
This is better than reality TV.
You lean in a little closer, your breath catching as you strain to hear what they're saying.
The woman's voice comes through, shrill and unmistakably furious.
You can barely suppress the grin spreading across your face as you watch the man throw his hands up in exasperation, his voice rising to match hers.
He fires back with the same tone of the woman, telling her that he’s busy with work to deal with her constant complaining.
You snicker quietly, shaking your head in disbelief. You hunch down even lower, trying to keep yourself hidden while also desperately wanting to see how this all plays out.
The woman doesn't back down. She takes a step toward the man, her face red with anger as she yells back at him.
It's like they don't care who's listening, and you're absolutely living for it.
You didn't expect to get neighborhood gossip on your first day living here, but this? This is better than anything you could've imagined.
Her voice cuts through the evening air again, sharper than before, complaining about how he didn’t care about this family.
This poor guy, you think to yourself, imagining the years of pent-up frustration between these two. You can't help but feel a little bad for the man.
Just as you're about to settle in for more, something behind you shifts, a faint sound that barely registers.
But you're too engrossed in the scene outside to pay it any attention.
Standing in the doorway, Mike freezes for a moment, his eyes drawn to you. More specifically, his gaze locks onto your body, hunched down and perfectly arched as you peer through the small gap in the curtains. The way you're crouching, your hips tilted back, your jeans hugging every curve perfectly.
Damn. The sight of you like this is doing things to him. His eyes linger for a second longer than they should, taking in every detail.
He takes a few quiet steps forward until he is behind you, moving carefully to avoid making any noise.
Just as you're leaning in for more, your face practically pressed against the glass, you hear a soft creak behind you.
The curtains are yanked wide open instantly. Blinding light floods the room, and in a split second, your cover is completely blown.
Startled, you let out a yelp and immediately drop to the floor, sprawling out with a thud as you scramble to hide yourself.
"Mike!" you hiss, half-laughing and half-panicking as you clutch at the floor, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible. You can feel your face burning with embarrassment, but the ridiculousness of the situation only makes you laugh harder.
"What the hell?"
Mike's laughter fills the room, rich and amused as he stands over you. "You're unbelievable," he says, shaking his head, his voice filled with teasing affection. "Spying on the neighbors already? You've barely been here an hour."
You push yourself up slightly, still on the floor, and glare at him through your laughter. "I wasn't spying!" you protest, though the grin on your face makes it impossible to take yourself seriously. "It's not my fault they're having a full-on soap opera out there"
"I don't know what you were more focused on, what was happening outside or the fact that you were putting on a hell of a show for me." he says, his voice teasing as he raises an eyebrow
You blink, momentarily caught off guard by his words. "What are you-" But then it hits you, and your face flushes an even deeper shade of red. "Oh my God, Mike!" you exclaim, your embarrassment mixing with laughter as you finally push yourself up from the floor.
"Hey, I'm just saying. You were in a very... interesting position there."
You shake your head, still grinning as you playfully shove him in the chest. "You're terrible.”
"Am I?" Mike grins back, not the least bit apologetic. "You're the one spying on the neighbors."
"I wasn't spying!" you say again, though you can't help but smile at how ridiculous the whole thing is, taking a seat on the bed as you tried to control your laughter. "It’s like... catching up. I need to know what's going on. Gotta stay informed now that I live here again"
Mike chuckles and shakes his head, dropping down to sit next to you on the bed. "Well, if you're gonna live here, you'll definitely get to know the neighbors. Just maybe not like that."
You rest your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours as the two of you fall together on his bed—now your bed—and lay there, staring at the poster about Nebraska that he had.
"I think I'm going to like it here."
Mike presses a kiss to your forehead at hearing this.
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the yard as you stood by the garbage bins, carefully arranging the last of the empty cardboard boxes.
You wiped a bit of sweat from your forehead, feeling the heat from the long day of activity weighing on you. Moving in had been more exhausting than you expected, especially with all the little details like fitting things into their places, deciding what should stay and what could be packed away for later.
Behind you, Mike was bringing out the last of the boxes, his sleeves rolled up and his hair slightly disheveled from the day's work. You didn't notice him at first, too busy focusing on fitting the flattened boxes together to make room in the bin.
But Mike noticed you, how you looked, standing there with your shirt clinging to your back, sweat running in small rivulets down your neck. He couldn't help but steal a few glances, his eyes drawn to the way the muscles in your arms flexed as you worked, the way your hair stuck messily to your forehead.
You looked good. More than good, really, and he felt that familiar warmth stir in his chest.
You were still focused on arranging the boxes, trying to make sure they fit just right. "I swear these things multiply," you muttered under your breath, unaware that Mike had been watching you for the past few moments.
He stepped closer, his gaze flicking from the pile of boxes to the sheen of sweat on your skin, unable to stop himself from appreciating how effortlessly attractive you looked.
"You need a hand with that?" he asked, his tone low and casual.
You turned your head slightly, offering him a small grin. "Yeah, if you're done staring”
He chuckled, stepping closer until he was right behind you. "Can't help it," he murmured, the warmth of his breath brushing against your ear. "You're kinda distracting like this."
You laughed softly, shaking your head as you finished the task at hand. "Just trying to make sure we don't drown in empty boxes."
Mike took that as his moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your damp skin.
You laughed softly, the feeling of his scruffy chin against your neck tickling you.
"Mike," you chuckled, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. "I'm all sweaty."
"Don't care," he murmured between kisses, his voice low and slightly rough.
You leaned back into him, letting his arms tighten around your waist. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and it made your heart race in the best way. Turning around in his grip, you wrapped your arms around his neck, gazing at him with a teasing smile.
"You're making it hard to finish," you said in a half-hearted protest. He kissed the side of your neck, soft and lingering, his stubble tickling your skin in the best way as you tilted your head to give him more access.
Mike chuckled, his lips brushing against your cheek as he kissed his way up to the corner of your jaw. "You've worked hard enough for one day," he said, his voice low and affectionate. "Let me distract you a little."
Your fingers idly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, "I was thinking of heading over to say hi to my parents real quick. They know I moved in today, and I figured I should check in."
Mike's expression shifted, a mix of curiosity and interest. "You want company?" he asked, his tone genuine, like he didn't want to seem disinterested in your personal life. "I mean, it could be a good chance for Abby to meet some new people."
You blinked in surprise, not expecting the offer but appreciating it all the same. It was a thoughtful gesture, one that made you realize how much Mike cared about making this work. Not just between the two of you, but for Abby as well.
You smiled brightly and nodded.
"Yeah," you said, your voice soft but filled with excitement. "Yeah, I'd love that. I think they'd love to meet you both."
A small, affectionate smile tugged at the corner of Mike's lips as he pulled you a little closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. "Let's go, then," he said.
The drive to your parents' house was short, and before you knew it, you were pulling into the familiar driveway, Abby chattering excitedly in the back seat about meeting new friends. You smiled at her enthusiasm, glancing over at Mike as he parked the car, his expression relaxed but with a hint of nerves that only you could really see.
As you stepped out of the car, the familiar scent of home hit you. You hadn't been home in a little while, and the sight of your parents' house and the distant sound of kids running and having fun brought back a flood of memories
"Ready?" you asked, glancing over at Mike as he unbuckled Abby from her car seat.
He gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah. Let's do this."
As you walked up the driveway with Abby skipping excitedly beside you, the front door opened to reveal your parents standing on the porch, their faces lit up with wide smiles.
Your mom was the first to rush forward, pulling you into a warm hug and exclaiming how great you looked.
You laughed, feeling a little flustered but happy to be there, and mentioned that you had just moved in today with Mike’s help.
Mike, who had been standing a few steps behind, smiled and nodded as your parents turned their attention to him. Your dad extended a hand, which Mike shook warmly, acknowledging that they had heard a lot about him.
Mike responded with a smile, his hand resting lightly on Abby’s shoulder
Your mom’s eyes softened as she glanced down at Abby, crouching slightly to be on her level. She gently introduced herself to Abby, who grinned shyly and hid behind Mike’s leg for a moment before peeking out to say a small but happy greeting. She reached out her hand, inviting everyone inside and mentioning that there were some snacks waiting.
Abby's eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly, following your mom into the house, Mike and your dad exchanging small talk as they trailed behind.
You felt a sense of warmth flood your chest.
This was good.
This was the kind of welcome you'd hoped for.
Your parents' warmth and acceptance made you feel relieved, and you could see Mike visibly relax as they welcomed him and Abby with open arms.
Inside, the sounds of laughter and conversations from your relatives floated through the air as you made your way into the living room while you hugged all of them one by one.
You found yourself with Mike and your parents soon, the conversation flowing easily as they asked about your move and how things were going between the two of you.
Things went downhill, however, when they started to give advice for your relationship based on their own experiences.
You grimaced, already feeling the heat rising to your face. "Dad, come on," you mumbled, glancing sideways at Mike, who looked slightly amused but remained silent, one arm around your waist and the other hand tucked into his pocket.
But your father continued, undeterred by your embarrassment. Living together is a big step, and it was important for them that you communicate, keep each other in mind and, of course, take care of each other.
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your discomfort, but it was no use. You could already feel your face heating up as the conversation took a turn for the worse.
The last thing you expected, to your horror, was your father leaning in closer, as if sharing some grand secret. He reminded you, with an air of solemnity, that even though pregnancy wasn’t a concern, protection was still something to think about. The embarrassment washed over you, making you wish the ground would swallow you whole.
"Dad!" you groaned, feeling a wave of mortification wash over you. You buried your face in Mike’s neck, not daring to look at your parents at that moment.
Mike's body shook with laughter beside you, the deep rumble of his chuckles making your face burn even hotter.
He wasn't helping, not in the slightest.
His arm around your waist tightened, pulling you closer, while his other hand stayed casually tucked in his pocket. You could feel his chest vibrating as he laughed, clearly entertained by your parents' well-meaning but mortifying advice.
"Hey, they're just looking out for you," Mike teased, his voice filled with amusement as he tilted his head slightly to brush his lips against your temple. "Can't fault them for that." you could still hear the quiet laughter in his voice as he spoke.
You groaned again as Mike's words only seemed to encourage your parents. "Mike," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, "you're not supposed to encourage them."
Your parents, oblivious to your discomfort, or maybe just enjoying it a little too much, laughed along with Mike.
It was clear that your family adored Mike, and the warmth of the moment settled deep in your chest, filling you with a sense of comfort.
The conversation eventually shifted to other topics, but the lingering embarrassment stayed with you for a while. Mike kept his arm around you the entire time, occasionally squeezing your waist or brushing his fingers against your side in a subtle show of comfort.
Later, you wandered over to where Abby was. She was bonding with the other kids while one of your cousins, who was sitting on the couch with her baby in her arms, was keeping an eye on them. She smiled at you when she saw you coming, a tired but happy expression on her face.
"Hey," she said, "do you mind holding him for a minute while I make something to eat for him?"
You blinked, surprised but happy to oblige. "Sure, I'd love to."
As she handed the baby over to you, you felt the warm weight of his little body in your arms. He was tiny, soft, and so incredibly fragile-looking, with big, wide eyes that sparkled with curiosity.
You instinctively began to sway back and forth, cradling him close. The soft sounds of his little gurgles made you smile, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfect he was. His skin was so smooth and his hair, though sparse, was as soft as down feathers.
“Hey there,” you cooed softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you ran your thumb gently over his chubby cheek.
He turned his head towards your touch, his big eyes locking onto yours with intensity.
The baby cooed softly, his little mouth forming an 'O' shape as he gurgled in delight. His chubby cheeks were slightly flushed, and his toothless grin made your heart swell with warmth. You couldn't resist running your thumb across his round face, gently tracing the soft skin of his cheek, marveling at how perfect he was. His little nose scrunched up in response to your touch, and he let out a tiny giggle, his toothless smile growing even wider.
"Hey, little guy," you whispered, your voice soft as you bounced him slightly in your arms. The baby responded with another gurgle, his fingers clenching and unclenching as he latched onto your shirt with surprising strength for someone so small. His eyes, bright and full of wonder, locked onto yours, and you couldn't help but feel a connection.
You rocked him gently, cradling him closer to your chest, and as you did, he let out a contented sigh, nestling into the crook of your arm as though he had found the safest place in the world. His small, soft fingers wrapped around one of yours.
The warmth of his tiny body against yours made you feel protective.
You continued to sway, humming a soft tune that seemed to calm him even more. His eyelids grew heavy, and you watched as he fought to keep them open, his curiosity battling with the need for sleep.
“You’re so adorable,” you whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead.
Across the room, Mike watched you with a kind of quiet intensity, his attention fully on you. The sight of you holding the baby, the way you cradled him so carefully, the soft expression on your face...
It hit something deep inside him.
Mike's heart thudded heavily in his chest, and before he could stop himself, his mind began to wander. He pictures you holding your baby—his baby. The thought sends a wave of emotion crashing through him, and he can't help but let his mind run wild.
What would your child together look like? Would they have your eyes? His dark hair? He pictured it so clearly: you, standing in your shared home, holding a child that was the perfect blend of both of you. Maybe with your eyes and his smile, or your laugh and his nose. He swallows hard, the fantasy setting him off in a way he hadn't expected.
You remain blissfully unaware, still cuddling the baby, gently bouncing him as he giggles in your arms. But Mike can't look away. He's utterly captivated by the sight of you, by the thought of what could be. He's head over heels for you, and in this moment, watching you hold that baby, he knows without a doubt that he wants to share a future with you.
The thought of you being filled with his baby, of sharing that kind of deep, intimate connection, lingers in his mind. The impossibility of it makes the longing more potent. And even though it can't happen, it doesn't stop the primal instinct inside him from craving that kind of closeness with you.
He imagines being with you, pressing himself against you, of filling you up until you were full of him, of having that closeness over and over again.
Those nights where he held you tight, feeling the warmth of your body beneath him, knowing that you're his. There's a primal satisfaction in the act itself, in knowing that you want it just as much as he does.
Mike swallowed hard, trying to rein in the wave of desire that washed over him.
Later, when your cousin returned to take the baby, Mike found his way over to you, slipping an arm around your waist as he pulled you close. His touch was warm, possessive, and there was something in the way he held you that made you look at him, curious.
You leaned into him without a second thought, resting your head against his shoulder.
"You good?" you asked, glancing up at him with a small, curious smile as you noticed the slight tension in his body.
Mike met your gaze and he smiled, a slow, affectionate smile that made your heart skip a beat.
"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. "Just... thinking."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur, but Mike never strayed far from you, his hand always resting on your lower back, his touch more possessive than usual. And though you didn't fully understand what was going on in his head, you were just glad to have him here with you.
The drive home had been quiet, peaceful even, with Abby fast asleep in the backseat, exhausted from the day. You and Mike didn't need to fill the silence with words; the weight of everything that had happened at your family's gathering hung comfortably between you, a shared understanding of how significant the day had been.
When you got back to Mike's house, Abby barely stirred as Mike carried her upstairs to bed, whispering soft reassurances as he tucked her in. You watched from the doorway, feeling the tightness in your chest. The good kind, the kind that only swelled when you saw how gently Mike cared for his sister.
By the time Mike came back downstairs, the tiredness from the day had settled into your bones, the heat of it still lingering on your skin. "I'm going to take a quick shower before bed," you said, running a hand through your hair. "Still feeling a bit gross from earlier."
Mike smiled, his eyes warm and soft as he brushed his hand lightly against your back. "Go ahead," he said, his voice low and affectionate.
The door clicked softly behind you as you stepped into the bathroom, the sound of the water starting to run filling the space around you. The warm spray of the shower enveloped you almost immediately, steam rising quickly, soothing the ache in your muscles from the long day.
You closed your eyes, letting the water cascade over you, washing away the exhaustion, leaving behind only a sense of deep contentment.
Your mind wandered back to the gathering, the easy laughter of your family, the warmth of the day, and how Mike had fit so perfectly into all of it. The memory of him standing beside you, holding you close as your parents offered their well-meaning advice, made you smile. You could still feel the pressure of his arm around your waist, the reassuring squeeze he'd given you as he'd chuckled at your embarrassment.
You hadn't expected it to feel so natural, but it had. Being with Mike, living with him, sharing these moments together, it was everything you hadn't known you'd needed.
The water did wonders for your tired muscles. Your skin still feels tender and fresh as the droplets trail down your back, and a light mist still hangs in the bathroom air.
Wrapping a towel securely around your waist, you glance down at your bare feet as you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to grab clothes. You check Abby's door, finding it firmly closed, and silently thank your lucky stars before you sneak into Mike's room.
You had expected to find Mike waiting for you, but the room is quiet, dim, and still. You shuffle quietly, hoping not to disturb Abby or alert Mike that you're padding around in nothing but a towel. Your mind is already preoccupied with finding your clothes, wondering where you stuffed them after the chaos of moving in.
You drop to your knees, carefully shifting through a half-unpacked box, fingers grazing over familiar fabric, but nothing quite what you're looking for.
You don't hear Mike step into the room behind you and before you know it, his hands reach out and grips your shoulders. He pulls you back gently, catching you off-guard as he hauls you from your crouched position to your feet, your back meeting his chest.
"You know," Mike murmurs into your ear, his breath brushing against your neck, "I'm starting to think this is going to be a thing. Every time I walk into a room, I find you bent down, doing something."
You laugh softly, your heart fluttering at the feeling of his hands on you, but you don't pull away. "I was just looking for something to wear," you reply, leaning back to rest against him. "You'd be amazed how great it feels to finally take a shower without a line of impatient people waiting outside the door."
Mike hums in response, his grip on your waist tightening slightly, his thumb brushing lazily over the towel where it's wrapped around you. "Yeah? Sounds like you're really settling in."
You nod, smiling to yourself. "Yeah, Feels nice to have some space that's just ours."
Mike's chest swells with warmth at your words. For so long, Mike has been stuck in survival mode. Working hard to care for Abby, fighting his aunt, dealing with everything that life throws at him.
But now, here you are, someone who's not just a temporary fixture but a permanent part of his world. Someone who's making this house feel like a home.
"Next time you take a shower," he murmurs, his voice soft but suggestive, "maybe I'll join you... you know, to save on water bills."
You roll your eyes, laughing softly, but there's a flutter of excitement beneath your breath. You know what he means, the playful tone in his voice impossible to miss. "Very responsible of you," you say, turning in his grip so that you're facing him now, your hands resting lightly against his chest.
Mike smirks, his gaze dipping down to the towel still clinging loosely around your hips. "You need help finding something to wear?" he teases, though his eyes are filled with something darker, something more primal.
You blush slightly under his gaze, but you play along, your fingers idly tracing patterns on his chest. "Actually, yeah," you say, your voice soft and playful. "Do you have any idea where I put my comfortable clothes?"
Mike shrugs, his grin widening. "I dunno... but I'm not complaining if you don't find them."
You turn to face him fully, your cheeks heating up at his words. "Oh really?" you ask, trying to match his playful tone. "You'd be okay with that?"
Your heart races in your chest as you bite your lip, your fingers tugging at the knot holding your towel in place. Mike's eyes follow the movement, and when the towel falls away, pooling at your feet, you hear him let out a quiet, surprised laugh, the sound filled with admiration and a hint of disbelief.
His hands immediately finding your bare skin, tracing the familiar lines of your body as if he's memorizing you all over again. His fingers are gentle but firm and, at first, everything was innocent enough.
Just the two of you staring at each others in a loving gaze. Quiet conversations about the day, the warmth of his body against your skin.
Mike's hands moved casually at first.
He started off slow, his hands sliding over your back, his fingers grazing the lines of your muscles. His hands became more deliberate, more confident, as they moved down your sides, feeling the heat of your skin under his fingertips.
His lips graze the side of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and you can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours.
You steady yourself against the cold wall, the surface cool beneath your hands, while his lips continue their path along your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses against the sensitive skin.
His hand moves almost unconsciously, tracing the line of your waist before resting against your bare skin. His thumb moves in slow, lazy circles, the motion intimate but unhurried. He leans down slightly, his lips brushing against your ear.
"You look so good like this," he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a quiet intensity. "My sweet boy..."
The words sent a surge of heat through your body, and you couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped your lips. You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder as his hands explored your body, tracing slow, deliberate lines down your chest and stomach. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt yourself growing harder under his touch.
His hands eventually drifted lower, and you gasped softly as he wrapped one hand around your growing erection. He stroked you slowly at first, his grip firm, his breath hot against your neck. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body, your legs threatening to give out under the intensity of it all.
"Mike..." you gasped, your voice trembling as his pace quickened slightly
He loves seeing you like this, completely undone by his touch, by the connection between you.
You're perfect. You're everything he never thought he'd have, everything he didn't even realize he wanted until now. And as he strokes you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, all he can think about is how much he wants to thank you for being here, for being his.
The kiss that follows is soft at first, innocent. Just the two of you sharing the warmth of each other's presence.
His need for you is growing with every passing second. His tongue slips into your mouth, teasing and exploring.
He's still fully clothed, the hardness in his jeans rubbing against your bare skin. His hands squeeze your ass, pulling you closer as he grinds his hips against you, a grunt rumbling from the back of his throat. The tiredness from the long day adds a roughness to his movements.
His thoughts, though, are anything but tired. They're racing, filled with images of you from earlier today, holding that baby in your arms, cradling him so gently, so perfectly. He can't stop thinking about it, about how natural you looked, how soft and loving you were.
The image of you with his child has been stuck in his mind all day, and he can't shake it. The thought of leaving a part of himself inside you has been driving him wild ever since.
His hands slid deeper, his fingers brushing against your entrance, making you shudder in response. He teased you, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed a little harder, pushing just enough to make you gasp and buck against him. "You want this, don't you?" he whispered, his voice low and full of need. "Tell me you want me."
You could only manage a shaky nod, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers moved in slow, torturous circles.
Then, he turned you around so that you were facing him.
His lips crashed into yours with a hunger that left you dizzy, his hands gripping your butt with enough force to leave marks.
The kiss was desperate, full of raw need and passion, and you could feel the tension in his body as he pressed himself against you. His fingers dug into your skin as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth and you found yourself melting into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.
He pulls you to the bed, unable to wait any longer. He doesn't even bother undressing, too desperate to feel you, to be inside you
Mike's breathing grows heavier, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers something low and unintelligible. His hands slide lower still, resting on your thighs before he gently urges you to widen your stance. You comply without hesitation, knowing exactly where this is going, and the anticipation coils tighter inside you, your heart pounding in your chest.
His fingers slip between your legs, moving slowly at first, easing you into the sensation. Each stroke is careful, deliberate, as if he's savoring every second, drawing out the pleasure with practiced ease.
You took a right hold of the sheets to brace yourself as his fingers work deeper, prepping you with a slow, steady rhythm. His other hand slides up your back, caressing your skin as he presses closer, his breath warm against your neck as he leans in.
Mike's fingers move with increasing confidence, the steady pressure and rhythm sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body as his fingers stretch and prepare you, ensuring you're ready for what's to come.
He took his time, making sure you were comfortable, that you were ready, before he added a second finger, then a third, each one stretching you further.
You could feel every nerve in your body alight with pleasure.
His lips move to your neck, kissing and biting softly as he preps you with care. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. He pictures you in his bed every night, in his arms every morning.
"Mike," you whisper, your voice breathless, filled with need. "Please...I want to feel you now."
Mike let out a low, approving growl, clearly pleased by your words. The sight of you, flushed and wanting, drives him wild, and he can't hold back any longer.
His hands fly quickly to unzip his jeans and free himself, the head of his length nudging at your entrance. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he pushes forward, sinking into you inch by inch. The sensation is overwhelming, your body stretching to accommodate him as he fills you completely. The pressure is intense, but there's a delicious heat that spreads through you, making you gasp as he bottoms out inside you.
Mike groans softly, his forehead resting against the back of your neck as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him. His mind flooded with thoughts of how perfect this is, how perfect you are.
Slowly, Mike begins to move, his thrusts deep and steady, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel the tension coiling tight in your core, your body responding to him with an urgency that makes your mind go blank. All you can focus on is the sensation of him moving inside you, the way his hands hold you, the way his breath sounds as he presses himself deeper into you.
As he began to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. His lips found yours once more, kissing you hungrily as his pace quickened, the desperation in his movements unmistakable.
You moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by the intensity of the kiss, your body arching into his as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.
His hands slid up your sides, his fingers digging into your skin as he pushed deeper, his body moving with a rhythm that left you breathless.
The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mingling with your quiet gasps and his low groans. The heat is unbearable now, the need to claim you overwhelming every other thought in his mind.
And then, finally, he feels it. The tension snapping, the pleasure cresting as he reaches his release. His hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as he spills himself into you, the sensation making his whole body tremble.
As the pleasure slowly ebbs away, Mike's grip on you softens, his breath still coming in heavy pants as he pulls you back against him. He presses soft kisses on your collarbone, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your skin as he holds you close.
You're his partner, his home, his future.
Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.
22 notes · View notes
tgrailwar-zero · 2 days
Note
I get it, Saber. Oh boy, do I get it. But we do have that whole whale out there still, we might need you to sharpen up, at least so you can impress the pretty lady. I mean you NEED to score her flame pad address here.
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MUSASHI: "Come on, when am I not sharp? I'm the Flower Swordmaster of the High Seas with this Mystic Code on, I'm basically unstoppable!"
After that comment, and some intense deliberation, you decided it'd be best to take the PRIVATEER's offer. The price put a bit of a dent in your pockets, but 1000 PPT and a bottle of wine doesn't seem too bad.
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PRIVATEER: "Good deal! Pleasure doin' business! Come aboard!"
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MUSASHI: "Thank you! Glad to be part of the crew, Captain!"
As MUSASHI helped you up onto the deck, the PRIVATEER gleefully took the wine, and 1000 of your hard-earned PPT. She snapped her fingers, and a few figures materialized on the ship. The crew, most likely. Some of them seemed ethereal, like ghosts. Others, however, seemed more solid.
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PRIVATEER: "Alright, you bastards! Now we've got ourselves a whale to bag! Let's remind that whale exactly who he's messing with!"
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SKELETON PIRATE: "B-But ain't you afraid it's gonna eat everyone up, Admiral?"
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ADMIRAL: "…Do I look like krill to you? I'm the Admiral of the god-damn Solar Cell, so let's show that bloated ball of blubber what's what! Now, do any of you lily-livered suckers want to hop off now, or do you want to show the Solar Cell and the Moon what you're actually made of? You joined 'cause you wanted to be pirates, right? 'Cause you were bored of that hoity-toity Solar lifestyle, right?"
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CREW: "Of course, Admiral!"
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ADMIRAL: "Then are you gonna run scared from an itty-bitty whale!?"
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CREW: "Of course not, Admiral! We're ready to sail!"
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ADMIRAL: "That's what I like to hear! Now let's get to our stations and hit the seas! I catch any one of you slacking, and our guests will get a first-hand showing of what it looks like when someone is keelhauled out into monster-infested waters!"
The crew shouted in affirmative unison as they scattered about, and the ship began to hit the seas. The ADMIRAL leaped up onto the helm, taking the wheel. You felt a harsh ocean wind begin to rush against you as the vessel picked up in speed, splashing against the ocean waters.
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MUSASHI: "Woah, talk about charisma... even I'm starting to feel pumped up!"
The Captain's excitement is infectious! MUSASHI gets an extra Mana Charge for this fight!
-
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JAGUAR MAN: "And the crowd goes wild! Shrewd fighters don't get to see her in action, but this should be a treat even for our newbies! You know her, you love her, can we get a resounding cheer for our Admiral!"
DURYODHANA: "Hah! 'Love' is a strong word, especially for a disgraced woman like her… but she's a proven Servant. Summoned as a prospective General, instantly got a big head before she even got her Trigger Key and snagged several Solar Cell Zones practically unopposed, and then held them ransom! 'Course, the payout was monumental, but it's not like you can stay on the Council after a stunt like that. I'm surprised she still has a title, frankly."
-
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ADMIRAL: "Uh-oh, are they gossiping about me? Don't forget the part where I held the Priestess at gunpoint!"
Considering what you knew about the Solar Cell, that seemed like an incredibly serious crime, but she was using a tone more akin to how a teenager might talk about throwing eggs at someone's house.
There was a quiet splash next to the ship, as one of the pirates waddled out of the water and over to the captain.
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SHARK-PERSON(?): "...cap'n."
ADMIRAL: "Yes, Jawsica?"
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JAWSICA: "......we've got incomin' projectiles seven cables away an' quickly closin' in. lookin' to be 'bout three in total."
ADMIRAL: "Haha, really now? Well, ain't that sweet! Moby's sendin' presents our way, and it's not even my birthday! Hang on tight, you scallywags!"
As the shark-headed pirate scampered off, the ADMIRAL gripped the ship's wheel with both hands, spinning it heavily as the ship tilted away. You saw three flashes of blue light shooting through the water, before suddenly detonating.
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MUSASHI: "Woah! Masters, look out!"
The ship rocked violently as several eruptions in the water, the motion and the explosions knocking you off kilter. The wheel was spun again at the helm, as the ship steadied itself. You heard the ADMIRAL behind you let out a loud, excited hoot as she raised a fist in the air, cackling like a madwoman.
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ADMIRAL: "Woo~ooh! Don't you just love the thrill of danger?! Alright, I've got my hands on the wheel, but you're the fighters! I'm followin' your lead!"
Alright. Now was the time for you and SABER to engage the enemy.
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You're currently far away from MOBY DICK. You know the vague direction it is, helped by following the line where the projectiles came from. You can see the faint outline of a shadow in the water, but that's about it, and the shadow itself seems to ebb and flow.
See this post to see SABER's actions!
MUSASHI STATS:
ENDURANCE GAUGE: [X/X/X/X/X/X]
MANA CHARGES: [ X ] [ X ]
COMMAND SPELLS: [ X / X / ]
19 notes · View notes
cluescorner · 5 months
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I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc
#damian wayne#damian al ghul#damian al ghul wayne#batman#batfamily#for all of the issues that come with having Steph as your fave having too much wild shit happening at once is never one of them#btw I quite like The Boy Wonder Issue 1. wow shocker an artist and writer who I have liked everything they've ever done#has once again written something that I am enjoying with art that makes me want to be part of its world.#it's almost like Juni Ba is really freaking talented or something#like I have some problems with it but it seems like many of those are part of the point. Damian is learning that his siblings are more#three-dimensional than he realized and that is part of this 'coming of age' story merged with fairytale#so I can't be mad at the oversimplistic defining of Dick and Jason and Tim until the conclusion of the series. that might be the point.#I hope that the series will address Steph as a Robin but if not then frankly it's not an issue unique to this series.#I'll be annoyed and disappointed but ultimately roll with it like I am with Babsgirl being here. There's too much good stuff here to get#hung up on shit that seems to be almost an editorial mandate at this point. at least that's where I'm at.#I am also very sorry that Chip Zdarsky is massacring your boy. he has 'X (Tim for him) is the best Robin so everyone else must suck' diseas#where a writer really likes one specific Robin and in trying to uplift them demeans all of the other Robins. instead of like...just writing#for that one character only or alternatively not demeaning the other characters in order to make his blorbo look good#it's wild because I actually think his writing for Tim is pretty solid. but he's not writing a Tim series. he's writing a Batman series.#and if you are going to write a Batman series and include other Batfamily members you need to actually write them well.#instead of assigning them like 2 personality traits while Tim gets to be a whole character#I accept that behavior in fanfic where I have lesser standards because it's fucking free. not a comic run that wants me to pay#tens of dollars in order to understand what the fuck is going on. he's been going for a while now it's gotta be a lot of money.#I can buy Steelworks with that money. I can see John Henry and Natasha Irons in a trade. Fuck you Chip.#it's why it takes such a special person to write a good ensemble story/a good Batfamily story. you have to be good at writing a LOT#of different characters. which I don't think most people are. I sure as hell am not. I can write maybe 3 at a time confidently well.#and you also have to give all of them at least SOME love or else people will be upset that you aren't focusing on their fave#and also the writing as a whole will suffer. Chip Zdarsky is a pretty good Tim writer. I'd maybe read a Tim solo written by him.#I would not read a story focusing on multiple characters that I like written by Chip Zdarsky. because every character who isn't Tim#is at least a bit weak/inconsistent/out of character INCLUDING FUCKING BATMAN. THE NO. 1 GUY MOST ARE HERE FOR
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