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joelmillers-whore · 1 year

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I'll Be Here In The Morning

summary: after a heated argument, you try to go to sleep alone, but joel knows you can’t and he doesn’t like not sleeping next to you. he comes back and the next thing you know, the two of you can’t keep your hands off of each other.

Recommended Song(s): Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

Word Count: 4.2K

Series or One-Shot

Warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, no outbreak, slight relationship insecurity, they have a fight but it’s not shown, SMUT, joel calling reader darlin’ because why not, joel reassuring them and being sweet, also age gap i guess, canon divergent, praise kink, unsafe sex (don't be like joel, use a condom)

A/N: hey ya’ll! this is my first TLOU fic and i am so excited to post it here (also my first time posting on here). i am an AO3 user through and through but i thought it was time to broaden my horizon so to speak. i was so overwhelmed with how many of you wanted to see this type of fic, so please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think or request anything you want to see. i’ll try to get to it/ i’m trying to be more active. i’m not sure if my asks are open so let me know if that works lol. anyway, i hope ya’ll enjoy this!!

Slamming the bedroom door behind you, you crossed your arms over your chest. You were angry, furious even, mostly with yourself but also with your boyfriend. Anger was coursing through your veins, pumping white-hot rage through them that made your chest constrict when you thought back to the petty fight you’d had with Joel not ten minutes ago.

It was mindless, stupid bullshit but you’d gotten angry over it anyway. You weren’t even a hundred percent sure just how it started, but you did know that you had been a simmering pot, ready and waiting to explode. So you had needed to get out of there, away from him. You didn’t fight with Joel often, even though your clashing personalities would beg to differ. When you did get angry though, there was no holding either of you back.

You and Joel each had your own way of dealing with anger and most times, you chose to walk away, not wanting to accidentally say the wrong thing or to say something hurtful that you didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. So, here you were. In the bedroom. Fighting back against your racing heart and rising body temperature.

You had come back home after a long day on your feet and something mundane had set you off, and Joel just happened to be in the line of fire. Before long, you and Joel had gotten into it and not in the fun and sexy way you found yourself always wanting from him, regardless of what kind of mood you were in.

You thought back to the argument and how dark and endless Joel’s eyes had looked, how they seared into you when you were fighting, keeping you locked in and firmly in place. A shiver ran up the length of your spine as you imagined how he had crossed his arms, clearly in frustration, but how even when you were angry, you hadn’t been able to look away from his broad chest or how the material of his shirt had been pulled so tautly over his bulging muscles, making you bite your lip.

That annoying little flutter in the pit of your stomach made you groan in exasperation because even when you were upset with him, you couldn’t deny the sexual chemistry you and Joel had.

You shook your head, trying to shake yourself from your lust-induced daydream. You were overtired from work and clearly still reeling from an argument that you hadn’t been expecting to come home to. You glanced over at the clock; it was later than you had realized it was. How long had you and Joel been fighting for?

The all too familiar feeling of regret settled into your bones. You hated fighting with Joel, with the one person you considered to be more of a family to you than your actual family. But what was done was done and there was no going back now.

Neither one of you held onto anger for long, both of you deciding a long time ago that if either one of you were still angry in the morning over what had transpired the night before, you would agree to sit down and hash it out. That rule had probably saved your relationship more than once, and anger between the two of you never lasted for more than two days at most.

Rolling back your shoulders, you held firm to the idea that holding onto what you had said and dwelling on it wouldn’t help you now, so you thought about something else instead. You thought about how your muscles ached and how a migraine was slowly forming. The only cure that could help you now was sleep.

You knew that come the morning you and Joel would be back to bickering lovingly with each other and laughing over breakfast, just like how it always turned out. He was bound to forgive you, you hoped. But what if this fight was the one that tipped him over the edge? What if when he left, he wouldn’t come back?

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach like a thousand-pound boulder. You bit back the sting of tears and honed your hearing, listening for anything in the darkness that enveloped you. Disappointment manifested quickly when you heard nothing, except for your harsh breathing. Fuck.

You had fucked up royally, laying into him like that. And he wasn’t even there so you could fix it, there was really nothing you could do at the moment. You debated for a minute about calling him but you decided against it. He needed time to cool off— you both did. And you wanted to give him that time.

With a heavy heart, you started getting ready for bed. Maybe if you went through the motions, pretended like everything was fine, and sped through the night, Joel would be there when you woke up, smirking like you were his whole world again. So you rid yourself of your clothes and changed into something more comfortable; one of Joel’s shirts that went down to your knees and some sleep shorts. You lifted the hem of the shirt to your nose and inhaled, getting lost in the scent of him that still lingered.

It was warm and clean with a faint hint of coffee. It was Joel to the core and you rubbed your thighs together when you thought about how that scent crowded you when you and him made love, or when you had first started seeing each other, you had stayed up during a rain storm and just talked for the whole night, staying awake on black coffee and powdered donuts.

Mindlessly, you climbed into bed and settled in, trying to fall asleep despite the gnawing feeling in your gut. You sighed heavily, flipping over the pillow and then fluffing it, repeating the motions until you made your head spin. You never could sleep alone. Even before you had met Joel, you hated it. And right now, you hated it even more, especially when you reached over to his side, feeling for him.

But there was nothing there except the coldness of the sheets. You grew annoyed at yourself for how needy you felt without him snuggling next to you, his body heat warming you up better than any blanket could. You wanted Joel here, not anywhere else. And he knew it, which was why he almost never left you to sleep alone if he could avoid it. Almost never. Until now.

You closed your eyes and tried to count sheep, thinking that it could help. You tried not to concentrate on how alone you felt or how you missed him so much it hurt. Counting sheep must have helped because before you knew it, you found yourself in a dreamless sleep, tossing and turning for the majority of the night. Your ears pricked up when you heard a noise, thinking you heard the bedroom door open. You stiffened, attempting to remain calm and closing your eyes tighter.

Whoever it was moved around in the dark, their shadow fidgeting with the dresser before they climbed into bed next to you. They nudged themselves closer to you and relief washed over you when you recognized their scent. It was Joel. He came back. Just like he always did.

He shuffled his body closer to you, his solid front melding to your back, as his face snuggled into the crook of your shoulder, just how you liked it. It confirmed that he was there and he wasn��t just a figment of your imagination.

“You still mad?”, Joel mumbled, his Southern drawl coming out gruffer as he tried to keep his voice low. He nuzzled your shoulder deeper, planting a soft kiss there.

You shook your head, as best as you could in the position you were in. You were well past the anger stage. And right now, you just wanted him beside you, with you. Right here. You felt Joel’s growing hardness rest against your back and a dull throbbing started in your cunt, making you squirm.

“I thought you weren’t coming back”, you croaked, the shroud of darkness acting as a shield against how scared you were at the thought of Joel not coming back at all.

Joel held you tighter, his arms flexing as he wrapped them around you in the same way you were used to. His gesture of keeping you close was more of a comfort to you than any of his words could. You craned your neck slightly, trying to make out the expression that was on Joel’s face, but it was hard.

The bedroom was mostly dark except for a tiny sliver of moonlight that shined through the window, and even then, it was tough. You could make out the tiniest of details in the low light; like the imperceptible way that his eyebrows creased when he was focused on you, or how you could tell that he was still smiling because of the way his eyes crinkled, despite being unsure of your mood. God, you loved this man.

Joel was there for you and you let out a tentative and shaky breath, grateful that he came back to you. You let any remaining tension drain from your body, and shifted your hips, which earned you a sharp groan from Joel, his hand flying to hold your hips in place.

“I’ll always come back to you, darlin’”, his voice was gruff and came out strained. His hot breath fanned over your ear, “Always”.

“Promise?”, you asked, grinding back into him again. It was the last confirmation you needed and then you would drop it, let the argument fade away.

You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice, “Promise”.

The tightness that had been sitting on your chest was no more and you were feeling bold, and a little more than turned on. The idea that Joel would always come back to you made you wet, and you rubbed your thighs together, trying to alleviate some of the pressure you felt between your legs.

As if sensing your arousal, Joel’s hand wrapped around your middle, pulling your ass flush with his erection, his hand splayed across your clothed stomach, holding you to him.

You felt his short stubble run along the side of your neck, and your jaw, the abrasive sensation making your pussy flutter with the idea of that stubble rubbing against you harshly, until you were swollen and red down there.

“Baby...”, Joel protested weakly, his half-hearted attempt at drawing out the tension between you two. But there was tension and it was a string that was being pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment.

You grabbed Joel’s hand that was on your stomach, guiding it lower and lower until you stopped at the waistband of your sleep shorts, your chest on fire from your choppy breathing.

“Please, Joel”, you whined, grinding your ass back into him and moving your hips in slow circles, spurring him on. “I want you to make me feel so good like you always do”.

You were back to guiding Joel’s hand past the waistband of your shorts, into your underwear where he could feel how wet you were for him. He groaned, the vibrations from it making your skin tingle. An almost non-existent fuck was whispered as Joel’s hand found your soaking cunt, his deft fingers sliding through your folds.

When you removed your hand from his, letting him take charge, he hesitated. But when his thumb found your clit and you moaned, throwing your head back, he continued, not stopping for even a second.

“This good?”, he asked, as he teased your hole with his thick digit, pulsing the finger in and out, just enough to taunt you with pleasure and then rip it away when it felt too good. It was frustrating but you figured you somewhat deserved it for the fight from earlier.

You hummed, “Mo-more”, and you bucked into his hand, gyrating against it as you searched for more friction.

Joel sucked the pulse on your neck hard and you groaned, your head rolling to the side in pure ecstasy as he licked the spot when he pulled away. Fulfilling your command, he continued to work you over, work you to the edge. Your moans mixed with the sound of his finger, which soon became two fingers, pumping into you, a squelching emanating from you with every pump.

He was stretching you out, trying to prep you for his cock. Even this far into the relationship you needed some prep, he was that big. But you wouldn’t want it any other way. You loved his size and his girth and how deep he could go.

“Can you come for me, darlin’?”, Joel asked, as a groan slipped past his lips.

You flinched when his fingers curled, bringing you back to the moment as a tingle started low in your belly, the pressure building and building until it was too much, it was all too much.

“Fuck—”, you cried, cutting yourself off as your orgasm slammed into you, making you see stars. It was searing and hot and violent.

Your hips stuttered as they rocked into Joel’s hand, finding comfort in the fact that he was still lazily pumping into you, helping you ride out the aftershock.

“That’s my good girl”, he praised, thumb whispering over your swollen clit. You whined from the added pressure, feeling another orgasm start to build.

You had just cum and yet Joel was ready and willing to give you another one. Even when his engorged cock was nestled into your back, twitching with the need for his own release. He wanted— no, needed to give you your pleasure before he could seek out his own. Joel teased your clit again, pinching it as you yelped.

He removed his hand from your underwear and brought it to his mouth. You still weren’t facing him but you could hear the obscene sounds coming from him as he licked and sucked his fingers clean of your juices, not letting a drop go to waste. Fuck, you were so turned on already it was positively insane.

Joel gripped your waist and turned your body toward him, positioning himself so that he was slotted in between your legs, his upper body resting on his forearms, so as to not crush you with his body weight. Both of your chests were heaving at this point as another shot of excitement and arousal shot through you.

You brought a hand to Joel’s cheek, thumbing over his scruff and savouring this tender moment between the two of you.

“I’m sorry”, you said, swallowing your nerves.

In the softness of the moonlight, Joel’s eyes glimmered when they looked down at you. It wasn’t quite lust or amusement in them, but something else, something closer to love and adoration.

He dipped his head down and kissed you. It was tempered and subdued but sweet as he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance into your mouth. You granted it to him, letting him explore your mouth like it was the first time. A swallowed-up moan left you and Joel pulled back.

“Me too”.

It was simple and yet he meant it with his whole heart, you were certain of that. Picking up where you left off, Joel palmed your breast through your— his shirt, making you tremble beneath him. He pinched your nipple and it made you arch your back off the bed, both to escape and chase that feeling.

“Let’s get this shirt off, hmm?”, Joel mused, playing with the hem of it. You nodded and lifted your upper body off of the bed as he helped you out of it, tossing it somewhere behind him.

“Your turn”, you said, almost breathlessly, and Joel obliged. He sat up on his knees and stripped himself of his own shirt.

You couldn’t help but pause and appreciate him and his physique. He wasn’t insanely built like an athlete or someone who stuck to a strict diet all so that they could get a six-pack. Joel’s body was sculpted from years of manual labour and although some might not be turned on by a broad chest and a toned stomach, you certainly were, and you were enamoured by it.

Your hand seemed to have had a mind of its own because you were raking your fingernails along his chest and stomach, drawing a line all the way down to his waistband. You watched as his muscles tensed from your touch, his eyes snapping shut like he had to concentrate on restraining himself.

Your hand remained on his waistband, your index finger playing with the dark line of hair that led all the way past the pants and to the straining member, you knew awaited you.

“If you don’t quit staring at me like that, darlin’, this might be over before either of us want it to be”, he drawled, quiet and low.

Your eyes snapped to his, which were dark and endless pools filled with lust. He looked like he was ready to devour you and your thoughts came to life when he gripped your thighs forcefully and spread them apart, making quick work of peeling you out of your shorts and drenched panties.

Joel groaned above you, “Such a pretty pussy, and ‘s all for me, ain’t she?”. He bit the tender flesh of your inner thigh, making you jump. But you didn’t go very far, his grip on the back of your thighs holding you close to him and keeping you in place.

You wiggled your hips, trying to get him to hurry up, “All for you”, you whine.

Joel chuckled, but didn’t tease you for much longer, answering your silent prayer as he dove into your cunt, lapping and sucking like he was a man starved. You writhed beneath him as he continued, not letting up as he brought you to the edge of another orgasm.

“How you feelin’, baby?”, Joel asked, as he came up for air. You nodded fervently, feeling like you could die if he didn’t continue what he was doing.

He chuckled as he went back in, the vibrations making your head swirl and your toes curl at the sensation of his tongue fucking into you. You were so close it hurt and Joel could tell.

He shushed you before bringing his thumb to your clit and massaging it in tandem with his tongue, making you mewl and bury your hands in his short hair, pulling at his scalp as you begin to grind yourself on his face, practically riding him as you chase your high.

“I’m gonna—”, and you do.

You cum hard and quick, this orgasm ripping into you like a hurricane. The blinding wave of pleasure had all of your inhibitions clouded, as a light buzz started coasting through your body, leaving you sated. Your mouth is agape, a mix of a whimper and a shrill moan escaping you.

You felt as though you had just run a marathon, your body was on fire and yet there was a calm as you came down. You revelled in the aftermath of your orgasm, feeling drunk off of it. There was a slick layer of sweat that coated your whole body, but you didn’t seem to care. Your mind was quiet as you listened to your breathing, your heart hammering below the surface.

Running a hand through your hair, you felt the mattress dip when Joel shifted his body weight, his beard glistening with your slick. You reach down and grab his face with both hands, bringing him to your lips. You groan when you taste yourself on him, the tang fueling your growing desire to be filled deep with him.

Joel murmured something against your lips but you couldn’t hear, your heart beating too loudly. “What?”, you asked.

“I need to be inside of you”, he whispers again, and you moan as he ruts into your bare core.

“Then do it”, you said, looking at him through hooded eyes.

Joel bit his lip, shaking his head as he stripped out of his jeans and then his boxers. His dick was thick and angry, the tip a bright red as it leaked pre-cum. You followed a drop with your eyes as it trailed down the shaft and you licked your lips at the sight.

Joel chuckled, the noise shooting straight to your needy core. You sat up slightly, reaching out for his cock but he stopped you, “Not tonight, sweet thing”, he stated, “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last if you start suckin’ me off”.

You keened at his words, desperate for some sort of relief. You snaked your hand from the pillow all the way down your chest, rubbing your nipple as you moaned, Joel’s eyes never leaving you. His eyes on you felt right, like you were putting on a show just for him, and in a way, you were. He watched your hand slide lower down your stomach and finally disappear between your legs.

“Goddammit”, Joel hissed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, “What’d I just say?”.

He ripped your hand away from your aching cunt, pining it above your head as punishment. You let out a choked sob, “Please...”.

Joel’s cock twitched against his stomach at your plea, and he released you. He gripped his length and tugged harshly, letting beads of pre-cum dribble all over his hand.

You watched him throw his head back as he panted above you, finding a rhythm. As you opened your mouth to whine and tell him that you needed him, he grabbed the back of your legs and folded you in half, thrusting his hard cock into your pussy.

The force of him slamming his cock inside of you without much warning was enough to make you cry out. You couldn’t focus on much more than the pleasure that he could provide. It was as if you could never be fully satisfied, not when it came to Joel. You would always want him as desperately as he wanted you, each and every time. His hips snapped into yours, almost to the point of pain as he set a demanding pace, burying himself deeper and deeper into you.

“So”. He grunted with a thrust. “Fucking”. Another snap of his hips. “Needy”. Thrust.

Joel was never one to deny you, and you knew that. You might have been needy but he was willing to give you whatever you needed. And most times, all you needed was him. Him and that fucking delicious cock. So, he made sure he delivered you another orgasm. You chased your release, the desire striking you like a bolt of lightning— fast, powerful, and all-consuming.

It started in your toes and rushed in. Joel’s thick cock pumped in and out of you hungrily. He was both providing you with another orgasm and trying to find his own release. Each thrust was more punishing than the last, each angle hitting the right spot, and guiding you both to your release.

“That’s it, baby”, he groaned, manhandling you until you were basically straddling him, his hands on your back, holding you steady.

“Can you gimme another one?”, Joel purred into your ear as he fucked up into you, his hips losing their rhythm and you knew he was close.

“I’ll try”, you said, snaking a hand in between your bodies, and rubbing your cunt in time with each pound of his hips.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good”.

He barely finished his sentence before you were shaking in his arms, finding your orgasm from his praise.

Drunk on only two orgasms, you didn’t even know what you were saying at this point, too sensitive and too sated at the same time, “Mmm, love when you make me come”.

Joel laughed with adoration as he continued fucking you, chasing his own release. “And I love makin’ you come, darlin’”.

You felt your walls clamp around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. With a final few pumps, he groaned, letting his head fall against your shoulder. Joel tensed slightly and his body shook as he deposited ropes of cum deep into you.

Your head lolled to the side, feeling his body grow slack against yours. His was flush against you, trying to control his breathing as you did the same, your arms wrapped around him as you stroked his back.

A long moment of comfortable silence passed before he lifted his head up, scanning your face. You smiled tiredly at him as he kissed you, letting the bliss wash over you both.

Joel kissed your forehead and slipped out of you. You in turn whined at the loss of being full of him. Your limbs were heavy as you melted into the mattress, feeling Joel collapse next to you. His arm drifted around your waist, pulling you into his side.

He kissed your temple affectionately, “‘m sorry about our fight”.

You nodded, snuggling closer to him. “I know”, you bit your lip, contemplating your next words, “I just worry that one day we’ll really get into it and you’ll never come back”.

Joel stiffened for a moment, before he turned to you, whispering into your hair, “You don’t need to worry ‘bout that ever, darlin’. Because I’ll always be here in the morning”.

2K notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 7 months

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okay a few solangelo things i’m curious your take on,

what kind of gift givers do you think will and nico are to each other?

are either of them music nerds? making playlists? gifting playlists? what music do u think they like?

what is their favorite fruit?

do you think either of them keep up with pop culture? are they fans of anything? celebrity crushes? like do you think will would think timothee chalamet is cute bc he lowkey has nico’s vibes and is such a buzzer name for celeb crushes? lolll

and then, do you think nico shamelessly takes will’s sweaters and shirts to wear or secretly swipes them?

ty! love ur blog so much xx

HELL YEAH THANK YOU

what kind of gift givers do you think will and nico are to each other?

i think nico spoils will fucking rotten.

his dad is the god of wealth he is holding NOTHING back. aside from that, he grew up wealthy and spent so so long in the lotus casino. i think he has a rly bad handle on money lol.

however he's such a mysterious guy that i think it doesn't occur to will that nico is actively spending money on him??

like will makes an offhand comment about how he would marry the person who would bring him the mystical rocket launching boba fett. and nico is like word okay and the next day there is a rocket launching boba fett on will's pillow and he's like BRO???? OH MY GOD?????

but he just figures that nico knew someone who had it!! he knows nico is big on figurines & collectibles and has a lot of connections, so he thinks nico just called in a favour.

in reality nico did all those things and also spent like two hundred k lol

basically, nico doesn't even think about it. if he hears a friend express a want that he has to means to acquire...its not even an active choice to him?? he's like well why wouldn't i buy this for them.

and i think this means a whole lot to will!!

he's spent his life in his mom's tour van or a bunk bed. he grew up in two wars. he was responsible for an entire infirmary at 13. he's a nerd and he likes nerdy things but like...collecting takes time. and money he doesn't have, because money isn't really a focus in camp and its not like he's paid lol

so of course there are things that he likes but...imagine being will. imagine having a budget for the INFIRMARY YOU RUN and thinking, like...well the camp has only so much money. i know exactly what these medical supplies cost. i refuse to steal. why would i ever be so selfish to ask for money to be spent on me and the things i like?

and then there's nico, who doesn't need him to ask. who WANTS to give him things he wants, not just what he needs or what he wants for others. what WILL wants. nico will get him.

will on the other hand....he gives away his time like it's free.

he does things for people. constantly. like austin complains about not having anywhere quiet to practice and will builds him a soundproof practice room. you know?

now when nico, who has had no one spend their time on him since bianca....

like his father did not have time for him. even when he lived in the underworld, he was put to work. or else he was bored. it's not like he and hades HUNG OUT, you know?

and of course he had no friends to spend their time on him. even in his first time at camp half blood -- for the first time, bianca didnt have time for him. she chose the hunters for ETERNITY, she said i am done choosing you now. and nico drove percy insane, who certainly didn't have time for him between saving the world. the entire time we saw him in TTC he was being pushed away.

by the time he had hazel, HE was the one pushing himself away before anyone else could. he filled his time so he wasn't waiting for anyone else. besides, through no fault of hers, he and hazel CAN'T give each other as much of their time as they would like!! they live on opposite sides of the country!!

but will.....

gods will. will SEEKS HIM OUT. the first thing will says to him is i have carved out, in my busy healer schedule, three days of time for YOU. not only have i carved out these three days, but in that brief moment of time where i was running around camp, i was thinking about you. you were a PRIORITY and i'm upset that you did not come spend your time with me.

like.....oh my god. can you imagine that? being nico? hearing someone you barely know, at this point, talk about how much time he wants to spend with you? and then as you get closer, he spends SO MUCH time with you!! he makes you a priority!

will walks nico to breakfast and watches him in sword practice and takes out his schedule when nico is making his to make sure they line up. he plans dates and they're FUN and he is so careful to make them enjoyable for nico, too, so much so that he forgets his nerves.

the biggest gifts they give to each other is noticing, i think. i see you, i see what you need and wont ask for, and i care enough to give it to you anyway.

are either of them music nerds? making playlists? gifting playlists? what music do u think they like?

will is the HUGEST MUSIC NERD IN THE WORLD.

he may not have many musical talents himself but music was naomi solace's whole world. you bet your ass it's everything for him, too.

he is teased for his love of country, and he does love country (everybody loves country if you hate country you are lying to yourself, i know you sing along to before he cheats with your whole chest), but he has a VAST music taste.

he is a britney spears stan. i will not be convinced otherwise.

nico, on the other hand, is not nearly as ignorant about music as people pretend he is. y'all he was in a casino/arcade until like 2006!!!!! do you think it was silent in there!!!!! do you think he is not the absolute king of just dance and DDR!!!

however he was, like, 10. so i think he's familiar with a lot of songs but in the way you were when you were a kid, you know?? like i could sing paparazzi w my whole chest beginning to end flawlessly at eight years old, but i would not have been able to recognise lady gaga by name or sight.

i think he and will make somewhat of a game out of it. the first time they hang out, nico is NERVOUS beforehand. like for hours. will said they were going to have a chill day bc he has time off, but what are they supposed to DO?? before they were actively doing stuff together. will was teaching nico first aid basics, or nico was helping him around the infirmary; they were helping rebuild camp together. sure, they were talking, but they had something to focus on if things got awkward or conversation faded naturally.

that is VERY DIFFERENT from just hanging out in person. is nico supposed to have conversation starters prepared? how much silence is rude? is will going to finally decide he's boring? or weird? will is such a hyper person!!! how is nico supposed to entertain him!!

meanwhile will is in his cabin freaking the fuck out to his siblings like GUYS HES GONNA THINK IM A WEIRD NERD DORK LOSER 😭😭😭.....WHAT IF HE SAYS THE WORD SAND AND I GO ON THE ANAKIN SKYWALKER RANT ON REFLEX FUCK KAYLA WHAT DO I DO I DONT KNOW HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS LIKE A NORMAL PERSON HE IS SO OUT OF MY LEAGUE

so he calls his mom 💀

and his mom is like baby....you are a disaster are you aware. and hes like thanks MOM i know i need HELP OKAY

and naomi is like well you got on with my backstage crew just fine. and hes like well yeah we just talked about music that was easy.

...

OH THANKS MOM YOURE SO SMART

and he's like wait nico has spent a lot of time in the underworld...he might not be very up to date!! this'll be awesome. so he stays up till like 3 on the big house computer carefully making nico several CDs worth of playlists.

he makes HOURS of music. way more than they could ever listen to in one day, but he gets carried away. he makes a playlist with his favourite country music, including his moms stuff obviously, with rock music he thinks nico in particular will like, pop punk stuff, regular pop, an entire CD dedicated to the icon herself kesha (whom he knows personally bc she sun backup vocals for his mom when she was a teenager), some musicals, and some iconic european music to top it off. he has a little bit of EVERYTHING.

most important, though, he makes a CD with the top 100 billboard songs from the years 1958 (when it started) to 1985. he doesnt have enough time to do it all the way to this year in one night but vows to work on it when he has time.

when he goes to nico's cabin, he comes with a stack of CDs as long as his arm and chiron's CD player. he's practically sparkling with excitement; when nico opens the door he is already halfway through a sentence lol.

for four straight hours, they just listen to song after song, will pausing after each one to ask what nico thinks. he recognises a lot of them, even though he didn't know their names, but even still he's pretty quiet at first. but as they go on it gets hard not to get caught up in wills excitement, and he dances like such a dork, anyway, is it his fault for laughing? and those four hours pass like MINUTES and suddenly its curfew and will has to go.

this becomes their tradition! will plays a song, nico reviews it. even as they learn how to hang out with each other in different ways, it becomes reflex -- when there's a song playing will looks at nico for a reaction. when they're with others, in public, whenever.

the first time nico makes will a playlist he cries.

the playlist is called sunshine.

will plays on his walkman until its worn right through.

what is their favorite fruit?

at first will thinks nico doesn't like fruit at all because he has to force this dumbass to eat fruit and vegetables. all he eats is like. cereal and sandwiches. it stresses will the fuck out.

he's out here plopping a bowl of fruit on nico's table like eat this whole thing or i'm gonna whoop your ass before scurvy does. (he is genuinely afraid nico is going to get scurvy, although its not a very effective anxiety because hes kind of deeply afraid of scurvy in general and is always trying to push people to eat oranges lol).

nico ALWAYS drags his feet about it. at one point will gets worried that nico just straight up doesn't like fruit and starts fretting about synthetizing supplements.

turns out nico is just, like...a little pretentious. about fruit particularly. in his defense, he has been all over the world. like he's had indian mangoes and algerian clementines okay it is VERY hard to settle for stuff grown in north america as nice as the demeter greenhouses are.

his favourite fruit ever is the lemon though. he had a lemon tree in his backyard when he was a kid that he doesn't remember, exactly, but he remembers how it tastes. will brings him a lemon once and almost as if his hands are working on their own, he cuts a slice, removes the peel and pith, puts it in a jar of sugar, and shakes to coat it, like his nonna would do secretly when he mama wasn't looking. its the best thing he's ever tasted.

will is a fruit fanatic, on the other hand. he steals strawberries every time he walks by the fields. the demeter cabin has to count their blueberries every night because he can and will eat them all when no one's looking.

his favourite, though, and he never ever gets it at camp, is prickly pear. in the summers before camp he would go to the desert with his mom and pick enough to make his stomach hurt -- he's never home when they're in season now, so sometimes when she's free shell drive up to new york just to bring him a box of them. she knows he's busy and cant leave camp in summers but she wants him to have that, at least.

i think all year-rounders are into pop culture just fine, but they're a few years behind. except for music -- will knows music. but things like movies and tv shows and memes, they either get updated from their summer-only friends or they stumble upon in naturally when it's not longer relevant lol.

nico, though, has an encyclopedic knowledge of old pop culture, because the lotus got new tech and games and movies before literally anyone else. he saw back to the future before it was in theatres and it changed his life. he quotes it all the time and no one has called him out on it then, but it is only a matter of time.

(he has seen star wars. he saw star wars before will was alive. but it is 100% funnier to pretend he doesn't know what a galaxy is and watch will's eye twitch when he asks him about luke skyrunner)

and then, do you think nico shamelessly takes will’s sweaters and shirts to wear or secretly swipes them?

yes absolutely. but he's super embarrassed about it at first so he genuinely STEALS them, not just borrows them.

it's a heist and everything. he shadow travels into the apollo cabin at like three in the morning and rifles through will's shelf. when he gets back he panics and shoves it under his mattress, where it lives in shame for four months. will just thinks it must have been an unfortunate victim of some poor sick child or bleeding demigod and writes it off.

after several months, during which nico thinks about the sweater ALL the time but cannot physically force himself to touch, nico finally gets brave enough to take it out from under his mattress. he just stares at it for a long ass time, wrinkling it in his clenched hands. it's just a hoodie, you know?? who cares.

nico cares. obviously.

eventually he gets so annoyed with himself that he just yanks it on expecting to be able to tell himself like SEE you dumbass it's just a piece of clothing it literally does not matter. except.

except.

the hoodie still smells like will.

somehow.

and that is.

well.

he would rather dunk his head into the river of fire than admit it, but he melts. the hoodie is old as hell and worn and so so so so soft, gods, no wonder will wears it all the time. he never wants to take it off ever.

for weeks, whenever he's alone in the cabin, he wears the hoodie. it stops smelling like will pretty quickly but he doesn't mind, it's still the most comfortable thing ever. it becomes second nature to walk into his cabin, throw off his jacket, and tug the hoodie on, wearing it to bed.

on one night, and of course it's the hermes' cabin fault, everyone is rushing out of their cabin to see what the fresh fuck is sounding like twenty four fire alarms at once and also a nuclear explosion. nico, in his haste, does not take off the hoodie.

will, whipped, makes sure his siblings are okay and then turns immediately to find nico. he Sees The Hoodie. nico Sees Him See The Hoodie. nico tries to flee.

will has longer legs and also spots a teasing opportunity, so hera herself could not stop him.

will teases him to pieces but is also visibly pleased. the next morning nico finds another hoodie of will's hung over his desk chair.

he wears will's hoodies all the time.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THESE IN I HAD SO MUCH FUN

#wrote these for the entirety of my class bc this class is Boring As Shit #pjo #percy jackson and the olympian #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #solangelo #will/nico #nico/will #nico di angelo headcanon #will solace headcanon #longpost #my writing #ask

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numberonenat · 11 months

Text

i asked chat gpt to make a playlist based on my candy love characters...

here's part 2 and 3: others / dateables ul + chani

here's what it gave me:

castiel:

"make me wanna die" by the pretty reckless

"ignorance" by paramore

"welcome to the black parade" by my chemical romance

"bring me to life" by evanescence

"sugar, we're goin down" by fall out boy

"i write sins not tragedies" by panic! at the disco

"sk8er boi" by avril lavigne

"boulevard of broken dreams" by green day

"dirty little secret" by the all-american rejects

"i hate everything about you" by three days grace

"numb" by linkin park

"so cold" by breaking benjamin

"gasoline" by halsey

"the kill (bury me)" by 30 seconds to mars

"i miss you" by blink-182

nathaniel:

"fix you" by coldplay

"fireflies" by owl city

"hey, soul sister" by train

"how to save a life" by the fray

"i'm yours" by jason mraz

"all of me" by john legend

"love song" by sara bareilles

"banana pancakes" by jack johnson

"you're beautiful" by james blunt

"the way i am" by ingrid michaelson

"thinking out loud" by ed sheeran

"bubbly" by colbie caillat

"say something" by a great big world

"make you feel my love" by adele

"count on me" by bruno mars

lysandre:

"supermassive black hole" by muse

"personal jesus" by depeche mode

"sweater weather" by the neighbourhood

"mr. brightside" by the killers

"do i wanna know?" by arctic monkeys

"intro" by the xx

"shake it out" by florence + the machine

"summertime sadness" by lana del rey

"creep" by radiohead

"running up that hill" by placebo

"closer" by nine inch nails

"only happy when it rains" by garbage

"1979" by the smashing pumpkins

"sour times" by portishead

"teardrop" by massive attack

kentin:

"good vibrations" by the beach boys

"walking on sunshine" by katrina and the waves

"don't stop believin'" by journey

"good time" by owl city

"here comes the sun" by the beatles

"happy" by pharrell williams

"sun street" by katrina and the waves

"shut up and dance" by walk the moon

"i'm a believer" by the monkees

"africa" by toto

"i'm gonna be (500 miles)" by the proclaimers

"dancing queen" by abba

"mr. blue sky" by elo

"all star" by smash mouth

"on top of the world" by imagine dragons

armin:

"video killed the radio star" by the buggles

"don't stop me now" by queen

"bohemian rhapsody" by queen

"take on me" by a-ha

"livin' on a prayer" by bon jovi

"sweet child o' mine" by guns n' roses

"every breath you take" by the police

"another one bites the dust" by queen

"don't you (forget about me)" by simple minds

"eye of the tiger" by survivor

"we will rock you" by queen

"don't stop believin'" by journey

"sweet caroline" by neil diamond

"boys of summer" by don henley

"hotel california" by eagles

i actually like this a lot lol

this is always so fun to make even if they don't make sense so yeah qskjvfhdjw

i'll make a part 2!!!

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thegnomelord · 9 months

Note

Harpy Gaz and Dragon reader is gud.

- 🦈

(I am so happy you are indulging in these requests. It gives such a soft and intamit version of these guys and i fuckin love it. It helps expand the side of monsterlovers and fuckers in the fandom. Thank you so much.

On the other hand. Got any ideas for werewolf courting rituals? Because there's an endless amount of possibilities.)

I'm happy you approve and hey I'm not just a monsterfucker, I'm a monster lover too lol

But for werewolves I don't think they'd have many rituals, certainly not as complex as Harpy or Dragon ones are. Werewolves tend to be really practical and mostly think with their nose and stomach.

I don't think there'd be much fighting for mates (though that could occasionally happen but it's rare). Mostly they'd try to show off how good they are as a potential mate, how good they could be for you, the pups, the pack. Primarily they'd do this by hunting, the bigger the prey they bring back the better, but just giving a bite of your food can be seen as a courting ritual. Just imagine waking up to find Johnny had hunted a damn bison for you (how he got that in england? who knows but it's not you) :Dd

Other gifts might be little bone/wood carvings, homemade goods, knitted sweaters, etc. Doesn't matter how shoddily it's made, it's the fact it's made with their hands that counts. And it's a Huge insult to gift something you didn't make.

I hc their sense of smell is one of the best of all monsters so they know immediately if you're taken or not. And Like you'll know a werewolf wants to be your mate because they'll be rubbing up on you and scenting you like their life depends on it so you smell like them and vice versa. God help you if you have some unknown person's scent clinging to you because they are going to try and scent you immediately. And if you don't push them off they'll take them as a go ahead to scent you in a more. . . intimate way.

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #monster 141 au #🦈 anon

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haesunflower · 1 year

Note

if you're still taking requests, could you do a zb1 reaction to the members accidentally breaking something really special you gave them (such as like a first date gift, or smth that you saved up to buy for them)? thank u sm!!

how i imagine they would all interact lol

₊˚⊹♡.....zb1's reaction to their members accidentally breaking something you gave them .....₊˚⊹♡

pissed (externally) : ricky

rightfully so, ricky is so pissed when he finds out a member not only has borrowed something without permission but has also broken it. usually he has no problems with members using his things, but he doesn't lend the stuff that you specifically gift him, like the expensive watch you gave him for his birthday

so when he finds the broken watch, he takes a picture of it and sends it to the groupchat asking "who the fuck did this". when he finds out it's gyuvin he has to be physically restrained by gunwook, because he has half the mind to tackle him. yeah....they'll be ignoring each other for a while after that.

but gyuvin apologizes everyday and eventually ricky got sick of hearing it. he even contributes a little to the repair fee but only ricky can truly afford to repair it lol.

pissed (internally): hanbin

he wants to get mad but hanbin can't because he's the leader. he already warned the kids not to play soccer in the room because they might break something...and true enough, not even 30 seconds later, they accidentally knock over the vase you got him

they send over yujin to apologize on behalf of the team (because they think sending the youngest would soften the blow) but hanbin doesnt say anything, instead, he just sighs and excuses himself to go on a walk.

hao gets mad at gunwook, gyuvin, and yujin on hanbin's behalf. literally nagging like a mom when he says "see what happens when you don't listen!!"

cries: taerae & gyuvin

taerae is actually so devastated when he learns that the guitar that the members borrowed during their reality show broke, the strings came off and it can't be repaired. he calls you, tears in his eyes, about how the members didn't take care of the guitar you gifted him like he thought they would.

he would only speak to the members when spoken to, and when the cameras are on. otherwise, it's the cold shoulder....scary...

later on, he finds out that it wasn't handled properly by the staff and he got an apology from the manager. after that, he went back to normal with the members, even saying "sorry guys i thought it was your fault ehe" and gyuvin screams "i told you it wasn't us hyung!!"

as for gyuvin, he's doing the dishes with yujin when the younger member accidentally drops the mug you both made during your first pottery class together.

his face is frozen like 😀as yujin says "sorry hyung, it slipped from my hands" and for the record, he DOES feel bad about it okay

especially when gyuvin is crying to gunwook, who is patting him on the back when gyuvin dramatically says "how am i gonna tell y/n it's broken, she loves that thing". ricky is trying so hard not to laugh at gyuvin's crying face, so gunwook pushes him away telling him to go elsewhere

silent treatment: hao

hao doesn't even speak to any of the members once hanbin delivers the news that some of their pets have used the plushy you gave him as a chew toy. he likes to keep the mangled plushy on his bedside table as a reminder of his anger.

he's petty and only speaks to the members without pets. it takes a while for the other members to figure out that he's been mad and giving them the silent treatment.

in an attempt to be peacemaker, hanbin suggests for the members involved to find an exact replica as a replacement. lol goodluck because you bought that in another country.

makes his members fix it: gunwook & yujin

it's hanbin that softly delivers the news to gunwook that the sweater you made him has shrunk in the dryer and he's like "excuse me what did you say hyung" 😶

hanbin gets ahead of him and explains to him all the theories he has in order to reverse it. but gunwook is good at science and helps them figure it out anyways, he gets peace of mind that way

as for yujin (not romantic okay), your joint art project was sitting peacefully in his bedroom when jiwoong accidentally knocks a can of paint on it. yujin is scarily quiet when he says "you're going. to fix that. right hyung?" and jiwoong cooly responds with "yeah yeah i will don't worry kid"

but for once, he isn't confident over something and has to wake ricky up in the middle of the night and bribe him to help fix the art project. ricky sighs but gets his painting materials anyways.

doesn't make a big deal out of it: matthew & jiwoong

he knows it's an accident, so matthew is so chill about it. i mean he's a little sad that the picture frames you gave him got knocked over, but so did the rest of the pictures on display – after they decided to set up the PS5 in the living room. though, he does ask hanbin if he could tell ricky off or something, since it was his idea to set it up on the mantle.

the tasks spills over to hao (who can't do it), so it spills over to jiwoong (who also can't do it, since ricky helped him fix his mistake)

to put it simply, jiwoong is unbothered because you are unbothered. if you were mad about it, he would be mad too. but you were there when it happened, and you watched taerae and matthew bicker over the lyrics displayed on the ipad you gifted jiwoong

in the midst of their argument, the ipad drops on the floor, screen shattering. all jiwoong could do is look at you, carefully awaiting your reaction. your face is like 😦 then 🤭 before you say "damn guys that was expensive"

matthew and taerae are spilling apologies as they hand the broken ipad to jiwoong for him to examine, only for him to look them straight in the eye as he removes the broken tempered glass – returning the ipad to them, as good as new "be careful next time, will ya"

tagging: @dwcljh @aleiamk @snowflakemoon3 @kpoprhia @en-ct @weeiyin @aleinasstuff @jiaant11 @caocoamamam @mashihope @wonluvrbot @littlegirltacos @ihrtgw @seok02 @ollieluvrs @thejadeazalea

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icarustypicalfall · 9 months

Text

Cod men in a mall??

I am bored, so i am shoving all of them in a mall. This is supposed to be funny, idk man.

Silly drabbles for TF141, Vaqueros, phil and könig.

warnings: none! fluff :) proofread but might contain some faults

credit to owner for the divider I don't know to who it belongs!!

masterpost • AO3

Ghost

He didn't want to go.

After giving him the cutest puppy eyes he said yes.

"I don't want to spend three hours in makeup stores"

He gave you the Ultimest glare as you passed by the shop in question.

Ended looking around for perfumes and breaking one by accident.

The employee was too scared to confront him.

You tried to convince him into buying an green hoodie with cat ears.

*typical ghost glare*

Was happy when they said they didn't have his size.

Now imagine him wearing the same sweater, looking like a crop top on him while you took pics.

Never went to the mall with you again

"no chance not going"

(he said yes lol)

John Price

Spent good five minutes fighting with an employee over the way a cuppa should be made.

You tried on multiple bucket hats and took pics. He was grinning the whole time. :(

"John, do you think I can buy this mall?"

"Absolutely not Love."

He'd buy it for you if you asked, though.

You thrifted together some vintage sweaters and wore them over hot drinks, the same night.

He is the sanest of them all. (optional)

Gaz :)

He needed to restock, so you went to the mall.

You wanted to sit in the cart, and so did he.

Both of you sat in the cart, ended bumping in the vegetable section and kicked out.

You can't go there together anymore.

For the rest of the afternoon, you ate ice cream and threw a coin in the Fontaine

"Nah but seriously, love, I'd go into that bloody pool and collect all the money. A legit fortune for us, yeah?"

Soap Johnny Mactavish

He wanted to get a weighted blanket, considering the cold weather in the base.

He jokingly wrapped you in it.

You couldn't move and looked like a worm.

"Ya look funny, lassie. Liile worm, go.."

Soap wrapped himself in a weighted blanket as well and you made a race on who'll reach the paying section first. The owners wasn't very happy.

You took pictures in a photobooth, you frowned in annoyance at the first set, with Soap giving you bunny ears behind your back.

Although, it was cute.

That.. until a raccon randomly barged in. The astonishment was priceless and the pictures remain in your wallets.

Soap begged to keep the raccoon.

(It bit him.)

Alejandro Vargas

He wanted to buy you something special.

He didn't mind the price, while your eyes lagged at the series of zeros in the tag.

He shoved everything your eyes laid on in the basquet, calling it a day.

You had to hold him or else he'd buy the whole section.

He ended surprising you with a bracelet, one you always gazed at whenever you came.

He shushed you before you even open your mouth, smiling.

"nonono cariño, no thanks, i am all yours."

:')

Rudy Parra

Sweet boy just wanted to buy a book.

He heard about a certain section in the library and wanted to check it out with you.

(you see where this is going)

You both chose a book, thinking the cute cover was a projection of what lays on the papers.

Wrong.

Two words in, you gazed at each other, put the book on the shelf and went to get a film.

You never entered that section again.

Aside from this, you had so much fun chosing each other fits and trying them on.

Phillip Graves

He is a proud American, of course.

Having his alarm as the national Anthem and riding to the sun with the eagle on his shoulder.

Anyway..

Phil practically begged you to get a certain pyjama, red white and blue to match his own.

He took your no to heart and gave you a cold shoulder (for five minutes only, he trailed afterwards on your feet like a lost puppy.)

He kept a hand around your waist, glaring at men who's gaze lingered on you.

"Eh darlin, there is no point in buying new sweaters, mine are yours. It suits you perfectly, beautiful!"

könig

He wanted new pants, and your opinion, so you went together.

And meanwhile you might think this is an easy task, allow me to say "NUH UH"

Have you seen this man?

He tried a pair of cargo pants, claiming it is his size.

Two steps in, the material ripped apart.

He took it off and, ever so calmly, he returned it in the back of the pile, as if nothing happened.

You left the store, and he uttered, pulling you to his side for warmth

"It's alright, not the first time, Maus.. They should make pants more stretchy, ja?"

#𓆩♡𓆪 faith writes #call of duty #cod incorrect quotes #141 headcanons #cod headcanons #ghost cod #rudy cod #call of duty headcanons #call of duty fanfic #task force 141 #soap cod #cod john price #gaz cod #cod philip graves #könig cod #cod meme #cod fluff

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ghostfacd · 1 year

Text

YOU’RE LOSING ME! — LUKE HUGHES

— “AND I WOULDN’T MARRY ME EITHER,”

pairing; slytherin!luke x fem!hufflepuff!reader

summary; in which luke and yn are already dating, but his lack of care for their relationship is slowly making him lose her

genre; angst, miscommunication, hurt to comfort, fluff at end, hogwarts!au, black cat bf!luke + golden retriever gf!reader

author’s note; sorta part 2 to wanna be yours (you can read it before if you want for more context but it doesn’t have to be read if you don’t want to) ANYWAY, another slytherin!luke fic because i said so LOL i prob will be making this into a series filled with random imagines of him and our lovely hufflepuff yn 🫶 this fic is obviously based on “you’re losing me” by taylor swift so my fellow swifties, cry with me

✸ SLYTHERIN!LUKE MASTERLIST

“Luke you don’t get it,” you say, giving him a small glare. His eyebrows furrow at your harsh gaze, not sure why you were so upset.

“So what?” He asks, arms crossed like a child who didn’t get what they wanted, “what is the big deal here?”

“The big deal is you gave that girl your sweater!”

“She was cold YN,” Luke rubs his face tiredly, “it was nothing really, she was just shivering cold and I wasn’t going to be an asshat and let her freeze to death.”

“Jack was right there Luke,” you say, referring to the older Hughes brother who was sitting near the two of you during the Ravenclaw VS Hufflepuff Quidditch match. The girl who Luke gave his sweater to was also from Slytherin, which made you even more insecure. What if Luke liked her better? What if they related to each other more?

What if?

“Jack was busy watching the game,” Luke sighs, throwing his hands desperately down to his arms, “you know what YN? You win, fine. I’m sorry I gave that girl my sweater. Happy?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, not appreciating the passive aggressive tone your boyfriend was using on you. With a quiet sigh, you brush past him, leaving the boy silent.

For once, you wished he would come chasing after you, apologizing and not letting you go until you guys were made up. But your boyfriend was Luke Hughes—and there was no way he would do such thing. It wouldn’t be Luke Hughes of him to do so.

The next few days are radio silent from Luke, who seems to have his focus on Quidditch much more than on you. It wasn’t like this was anything new; Quidditch was one of his top priorities, so much so that you wonder if he would pick it over you in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry Lukey,” you say as you find him inside the locker room. The other boys had all left, one of Luke’s friends, Mark, had patted you on the back and wished you a good luck.

Everybody saw the tension between you and the Slytherin star Quidditch player, but it was too awkward for anyone to mention.

He opens up his arms, letting you place your face into his chest. A few seconds later, he pushes you off gently, swinging his gym bag over his body.

“Slytherin’s having a party tonight,” he says as the two of you walk hand in hand. “Are you coming?”

“Depends,” you say, leaning closer to him, “am I invited?”

“Course you are baby,” Luke makes a stop, placing his full attention on you, “I’m sorry about yesterday okay? I really mean it when I say it was nothing between me and her. I didn’t even know she existed before the game, I only gave her the sweater because I wanted to be polite.”

You nod, hugging your boyfriend tightly as you tippy toe to place a kiss on his face.

When the sun set and the clouds were covered by the dark sky, you placed on your dress, a simple, but beautifully designed emerald green silk dress. You wanted to match with Luke’s house colors, which were a dark green.

As soon as you entered the Slytherin Common room, you were met with the smell of cigarettes and beer. In some corners, couples were making out, and in others, there was a group playing beer pong.

“Have you seen Luke?” You ask Mark, who happens to pass you as he tried to reach the alcohol.

“Oh—Luke?” He says that in such a tone that made you furrow your eyebrows deeply, wondering why he looked so guilty. “Yeah, uh, he’s in the main part of the common room.”

“Okay,” you say, starting to make your way there, but Mark pulls you back, giving you a gentle smile.

“How about you play some beer pong with us for a bit? It’ll be fun!”

You give him a small smile but shake your head. “It’s okay Mark, thank you for the invite,”

Mark sighs as he watches you go, hoping his best friend wasn’t doing anything stupid to make you cry again. He had seen the two of you fight endless amounts of time, mainly due to Luke’s stubbornness and his inability to be.. well.. good boyfriend.

Walking into where Mark said Luke would be, you could understand why he acted the way he did. There your boyfriend was, on one of the small couches, with a girl right next to him.

He was holding a red solo cup, a cliché that you’ve seen in muggle high school and college movies. She seems to keep rambling about something, giggling and twirling her hair as Luke looks the opposite direction, disinterested.

“Luke,” you say, your insecurities rising up once again.

Sure, Luke didn’t really give the girl the time of day, but she was extremely pretty, and seemed way more carefree than you were.

“You know her Lukey?” The girl asks, head leaning close to touch to his curls.

“I do,” he says, sitting up properly. “Cho, meet my girlfriend, YN.”

Cho smiles bitterly, “nice to meet you YN! I’ve heard soooo much about you.”

“Mhm,” you say, “nice to meet you too.”

“Well Lukey, I’m gonna go and say hi to Jack, see ya!” She hops off the couch, not before giving your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

He barely even flinches at this.

“Seriously?” You whisper out, anger fueling your body.

“What now YN?”

“You let girls be all over you and kiss you on the cheek now?”

“Oh my god, are we doing this again?” Luke stands up, discarding his solo cup somewhere in the common room. “Can we not have a good night YN?”

You scoff, “we can have a good night when I’m not treated like shit by you in this relationship, Hughes.”

Saying his last name felt like a blow to Luke’s face, making him more upset by each minute. “I don’t treat you like shit!”

“Yes you do!” You yell, exasperated. You watch as Luke tries to push his way past you, but you grab his arm, tightening your hold on him so he wouldn’t go. “Don’t you ignore me Luke!”

He looks down at your figure, his drunken daze almost fading when he sees how beautiful you looked. A green emerald dress on with your hair curled. You truly were the best thing at this party.

“Listen, I wouldn’t marry me either!” He spat out, “I told you this when we first began dating! That I was going to be a terrible boyfriend who isn’t good at comforting and communicating. You knew this right off the bat, YN! You know that I’m a pathological people pleaser!”

“I just wanted you to see me!” You cried out, tears now falling down you cheeks. “Yes, I knew what I was getting into—but all I wanted was for you to see me and love me Luke!”

Your breath hitches when you see Luke’s arm falling loosely off your grip, scared he was going to leave forever now.

Do something Luke, your brain screams. Say something.

He leaves the room, making you drop onto your knees. The pain you felt in your chest was overwhelming, accompanied by the seemingly endless tears.

Lose something, risk something Luke!

You don’t notice he re-enters the room until you feel arms wrap around you, carrying you to one of the large couches. Luke places you on his lap, a large tissue box in his hand. Using his free hand, he wipes away your tears, making sure to get the mascara that was dripping.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a soft kiss on your head. “I know I’m not a good boyfriend and that I do stupid shit—but I promise I love you—that I see you YN. I’m trying my best here, I’ve never had someone care for me as much as you and I guess I was just afraid of love,”

You don’t say anything, just holding onto Luke’s arms that were currently embracing you.

The two of you sit in silence for the next half hour, Luke never once letting go of you as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

“Just so you know,” you say, looking up to meet Luke’s teary eyes, “I would marry you. Regardless of you being shit at showing emotions.”

This makes him laugh as he hugs you tighter, mumbling another apology into your head.

“I would gladly marry you too baby.”

#luke hughes #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hughes brothers #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich blurbs #umich boys

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spookyji · 2 years

Note

i have a secret about hueningkai, i think he’s a dom. i know some people think he’s sweet and just couldn’t be but i think that’s a ruse. he’s a nice guy, you trust him, maybe in the romantic aspects of the relationship you’re in charge, planning dates, initiating pda, in public you wear the pants in the relationship. but behind close doors he calls the shots.

maybe could you write about that, him in the bedroom telling you what to do. and of course you do, cause if not he can a bit scary.

oop am i exposing ur secret too much—

# huening kai + dom role !!

tw. f!reader, protected, making out, strip studying, really sweet sex <3 minors dni + nsfw !!

a/n. don’t usually see him as a dom, but why not~ also how tf did i write all this w one hand on my phone LOL ;; not proofread + written on phone

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huening kai’s an enigma. sweet and adoring, always so shy to initiate any form of affection without blushing bright red, nervously playing with his fingers and glancing at yours before you take his large hand in your own with a smile. always teased by his hyungs, who affectionately laugh at his hesitation to display love, teasing him at his quick cheek kisses (they miss most of the time in his rush, his nose brushing against your cheek before you take his face into your hands, kissing his cheek with little concern) and for his hugs, engulfing your body in his before he realizes people are watching. yeonjun knows every time kai’s going on a date, helping him choose an outfit that doesn’t consist of a bape hoodie and messy bangs. soobin reminds him to tie his shoes in his rush to meet you, lest he trip over halfway and embarrass himself. taehyun offers him advice on his problems, gentle encouragement before he confronts any issues. and of course beomgyu, whose avid laughter helps him let go of the awkwardness. even three years into a relationship, huening kai is still completely wrapped around your finger in every aspect of your relationship. well, nearly every aspect.

so why was your back pressed to the locker room wall, weak to his careless kisses as his tall figure loomed over your smaller one? wrists bound by a single hand and pressed to the tiles above your head, firm thigh lodged between your legs as his lips press to yours roughly, fingers lifting your chin to meet his. teeth bumping against one another’s, before biting into your lower lip, swallowing your startled squeaks as his tongue meets yours, messily sharing saliva in a heated exchange. intoxicated by kai’s kisses, your knees tremble, held up by his firm grip around your wrists. his unrestrained kisses absorbing your attention, wet sounds of infatuation echoing through the locker room’s tiled walls, the only ones within your shared world. water from his recent shower drips off his damp bangs on your skin, cold against warm, flushed cheeks. if anyone saw, they’d know your shared secret; that huening kai was really in charge of your intimate life, that he had you weak with only teasing touches when you were alone.

“mmph—k-kai—“ cute whines replace the pants as he breaks free of the kiss, smiling down at your flushed figure, tiny beneath his large frame. “what? so messed up now, aren’t you?” he laughs, fingers trailing down your jawline as he presses teasing kiss to your cheek. you blush, realizing your disheveled state of clothing, rumpled sweater vest and shirt as a result of his rushed affections. “c-can’t have more?” “you want me to take you here, right now, where any other person could see?” kai whispers, licking your earlobe as he sends your mind into a spiraling fantasy, imagining being caught in the basketball locker room by a stray player or janitor, humiliation burning across your skin. “n-no, i can wait!” you squeak, hurriedly straightening out your clothes. “positive? i don’t think i mind,” smirking at your affected state, he once overs your thighs, clenched together, lips swollen and covered in saliva, “but if you’re sure, maybe i’ll visit later?” you blush at his insinuation, before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “i-i have to study, though.” “even better,” kai grins, drying off his hair, broad shoulders covered by only a thin white tank top, “eleven should do.”

with that, he deposits his towel and slides on his varsity jacket, glancing at your hands as he slings his bag over his shoulder. with a shy smile, you take his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers together as you lead him out of the locker room, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you head in opposite directions. only now, his face was blushing, fingers tracing where your lips had been as he walked towards the parking lot, searching for the team captain’s iconic blue convertible. yeonjun lazily reclines in the driver’s seat, scrolling through his phone as kai approaches. “yah, you look different from when we left!” beomgyu laughs from the passenger seat, noting his swollen lips and shy touches to his face. “you took a while,” yeonjun smirks, watching as kai climbs into the backseat beside soobin and taehyun, “looks like your very sweet girlfriend gave you a treat?” “she definitely pounced on him,” soobin sighs, ruffling kai’s hair as the car backs out of the empty parking lot. “hope you’re using protection.” taehyun deadpans, to beomgyu’s loud amusement. “n-nothing like that happened!” huening kai stammers, the basketball team members all breaking out into laughter at the youngest member’s embarrassment over his intimate life. “please, you’re so transparent.” soobin chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. wind blows in kai’s face, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he thinks of the hidden truth, a secret he reserves only for you two to know.

absent-mindedly flipping to the next page of your textbook, you lie on your stomach on your bed, glancing at the clock every now and then. eight forty-two. eight fifth-eight. nine fifteen. nine thirty-one. all the way until now, ten fifty-six. nervously twitching with anticipation, you pick up your anatomy flash cards, flipping through them without too much thought. “honey?” your mom knocks at your door, dressed in her pajamas, “kai’s here. not too late, okay?” “oh! he’s… here to study.” you reply, combing your hair with your hand, straightening the loose strands into place. your mom heads off to your parents’ bedroom, door clicking behind her as huening kai steps into your short doorframe, craning his neck slightly to avoid hitting his head. “came like i promised, didn’t i?” he smiles, dropping his bag beside your door as the lock clicks behind him, long strides easily reaching your bed quickly.

“so, what were you studying?” “the h-heart,” your own beat quickening at his proximity, tall frame casually resting on your sheets, hand in his hair as his elbow sinks into the plush mattress. his varsity jacket falls open, revealing the same white tank top as earlier, collarbones peeking out. “pretty?” his amused voice breaking your thoughts, blinking as you redirect your attention. “oh—sorry!” smirking, kai takes the note cards from your hand, briefly scanning them over. “should we play a game, then? i wonder if you really know these.” “I’m learning them,” you reply hesitantly, not sure where he’s going with this. “for every answer you get correct, i’ll take off a piece of clothing. that’s what you want, isn’t it?” your face flushes, imagining the sight of his broad shoulders and toned body—“but for every question you get wrong, you’ll have to take off something.” shivering at the thought, you nod shyly, sitting up as you recall your knowledge of the heart.

“blood enters this chamber of the heart from the superior and inferior vena cavas.” “right atrium.” you smile, kai shifting as he tosses his jacket aside, casually exposing his toned arms. “blood travels through this from the right ventricle to the lungs.” “pulmonary… vein?” you hesitate, unsure if deoxygenated blood traveled through only veins. “wrong, candy.” his darkening smirk tells you everything, and you slide off your uniform skirt, folding it neatly and placing it beside your bed, cold air rushing to meet your exposed legs. your hand moves to pull your blanket over your thighs, before kai’s hand grabs yours, a small shake of his head and a grin sending a flush across your face. “blood from the arms and the head enters the heart here.” “superior v-vena cava.” kai pauses for a moment, considering which article to strip first, before swiping off his tank top, dropping it on the floor without much thought. the sight instantly brought a flush to your face; kai might have been flustered over kisses and hand holding, but was completely unfazed at stripping in private. “what?” he laughs teasingly, your gaze quickly averting as you mumble an incoherent reply, attempting to stay focused.

“blood exits the heart from here.” “aorta!” you excitedly cheer, hoping to have won the game; to your dismay, kai snickers before pulling off his socks. “w-wait, does that even count?” giggling at your reaction, kai gestures at his legs, “we’re you expecting something else?” “n-no!” you stammer, “n-next question!” “what separates the right atrium from the right ventricle?” frowning, you pause, trying to remember the name. “a… valve.” mumbling, your fingers fumbling with the hem of your shirt with reluctance. “why so shy?” kai smiles, cocking his head at you, “it’s not like i haven’t seen you in your underwear before.” “it—d-don’t say that aloud! wh-what if my p-parents hear?” flustered, your whisper, embarrassed at his nonchalant response. “so… if i did this, you think you could keep quiet?” leaning towards tou, a hand sliding up your bare thigh towards the hem of your uniform shirt, the sensation of his warm palm trailing dangerously close to your sensitive inner thigh. “o-okay!” voice barely contained to a whisper, you pull your shirt over your head, hands trembling as you fold the fabric, feeling kai’s pleased gaze follow your figure as you lay the folded clothes neatly. “n-next quest—mmph!” soft lips press against yours, interrupting your words, a warm hand catching your back as kai gently lowers you on your back, eyes fluttering shut at the sweet act. “here’s your final question,” pulling away, a soft murmur contained to the minimal space between your lips, “is this okay?” fingers slide around your waist, gently feeling the skin of your stomach. “yes, kai.” no sooner than the words leave your mouth, his lips steal the air from your lungs in a breathless kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck, one hand cupping his jawline, pulling him closer.

“really, really love you,” he sighs against your lips, calloused hands caressing your curves, “so perfect.” insecurities vanish in the wake of his gentle touch, as if he knows every worry and fear you’ve ever harbored and erases them with adoration. even in plain underwear, kai makes it feel special and pretty, effortlessly seeing your best in his touch and sight. your body small under his broad shoulders, hot skin of his chest pressed to yours, shared heartbeats quickening as his fingers trace the hem of your panties, slowly tugging them down your thighs. a blush flares across your cheeks, a small, shy grin crossing kai’s face, “you can be quiet, right…?” you whisper, clasping his jaw in your hands, swollen lips only centimeters away, breath hitching with the proximity. “think that’s my question for you.” eyes hazy with lust, smaller fingers finding the zip of his pants, boxers straining to contain his massive length.

propping himself up with an arm, his hand slips into his pocket, a familiar silver wrapper meets your lips, a small smile crossing your face as you bite down, tearing it open with a small tug. “god, love it when you do that,” kai sighs, pulling down his boxers as your small fingers taking the condom and sliding it over his hard length. hissing slightly with sensitivity and with a nod, he slowly sheathes himself inside your tiny warmth, nearly collapsing on your smaller frame, barely maintaining control at the tight stretch. “mmph—k-kai!” clasping a hand over your lips to contain your mewls, still not adjusted to his large size, squirming in the sheets under him. nose brushing against your cheek, kai pants into the crook of your neck, resisting the urge to push all the way in, your warm walls clenching around him so tightly, muffled cries so delicately sweet and irresistibly cute. he’s so big compared to you, broad shoulders much larger than yours, hands massive compared to your small ones, cock too big for your tiny pussy. “k-kai—nnngh—t-too big!” you sob, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, his lips messily crashing against yours, swallowing your cries as he finally hits your sweet spot, large hands pressing your small wrists into the sheets beside your head, sweaty bangs brushing against your forehead.

“mmph—so tiny—and cute,” he mumbles into your lips, poorly controlled thrusts into your hips sending heat racing across your skin, the stretch overwhelming as your cunt burns with immense pleasure, kai pinning down your writhing body with his, salacious gasps for air breaking sloppy kisses, sometimes missing and pressing against each others cheeks, saliva leaking from the corners of mouth, a thin string of drool connecting your lips before diving into one another again. “haah—f-feels really g-good—!” kai pants, grunting as his hips buck into yours, warmth clenching him so tightly, the sound of your tiny dripping cunt taking him so well heaven to his ears, flushed face burying itself into the valley between your breasts, rough kisses covering your chest before he pulls one side of your bra down with his teeth, exposing the soft plush of your chest to his messy ministrations, “agh—k-kai! n-not th-there!” your whimpers fill your room, breathy as you arch your back, kitten licks covering your nipple as he blows on the soft nub, the cold stimulation drawing cries of sensitivity as he swirls his tongue around the small bud.

“s-so—haah—tiny—“ kai gasps, feeling your walls clench further around his cock, your mewls growing louder as you approach your orgasm. “p-pretty, s-so smal—ah!” your high pitched cry interrupts his groans of pleasure, the hand pressing down on the bulge in your stomach, heat rushing to your core at the sensation, pleasure overwhelming your senses at the pressure. “t-taking me s-so well, c-cum for me?” the words scarcely left his lips as your release coats his length, soaking the condom as you writhes with pressure, incoherent whimpers and sobs filling the heated air as your climax wracks your body. “n-not done y-yet—“ suddenly, kai easily flips your body over, pressing you into the sheets from behind, sweaty chest pressed to your back as he pushes himself back into your cunt, sloppily thrusting your cum in and out of your pussy, hot breath against your shoulder. “k-kai! t-too much—hnng!” sobbing into the pillow, soft fabric quickly soaked in your tears of pleasure, overstimulation burning your heat, walls clenching down on his cock, feeling every vein through the thin barrier. “r-really close, pretty,” he pants, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, messy or not. “ah—k-kai—l-love you!” loud cries poorly muffled by the pillow, a final hard sheath of his cock into your swollen cunt, teeth biting into your shoulder as his cum fills the condom, pleasure rushing over his sweaty body, heart racing against your back with rapid thumps.

“hnng—! f-feels—“ you whimper, feeling his cock leave your cunt, spent condom tugged off before kai gently wraps his arms around your body, nuzzling your shoulder with a trail of feather light kisses, legs entangling as he pulls you tightly against his chest. “really, really love you,” kai breathes, feeling more infatuated than he’d ever felt, feeling your tiny body engulfed by his. “m-me t-too.” a warm sensation coats your body from inside out, his hot skin pressed against yours, a mutual feeling of adoration bringing tired smiles to your faces, one hand lacing with your smaller one as the other gently rubs your stomach, soft skin beneath his large hand. “you’ll never leave me?” “never.” you sigh happily, relaxing in his bear hug, hearing his breathing slow into a lull, feeling his strong heart comfortingly beat against your back as kai drifts off, your eyes fluttering close soon after. a sweet shared secret; how clingy of a person kai became after sex, compared to his flustered ministrations in public.

#yes kai bde energy <3 #also for once protected lol #mille.requests #mille.anon #mille.inbox #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt x you #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai smut #huening kai smut #txt imagines #huening kai x you #huening kai x reader #txt drabbles

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bullet-prooflove · 3 months

Note

Oh no! We can’t have an empty ask box, LOL!

How about romantic vacation with Jack Dayton?

Tagging: @soultrysworld @kmc1989 @livingonthehems @tess-love

OK so sorry this took so long, I could not decide on the location. I was torn with him joining her on a research trip to Ireland (cue Jack in a white warm sweater on a windy cliff surrounded by greenery or something beachy - in the end this won out as a relaxing vacay for him as Ireland would have been him angsting over her being out of his proximity for a while.)

The First Time (NSFW) - Jack reveals his secret during your first time together.

The Professor (NSFW) - Jack and you share an intimate moment in your office.

Cartier - Jack tries to build some healthier habits to vent his stress.

Bali agrees with Jack.

Usually on his vacations he works, same shit different location but this is his first one with you and he hasn’t thought about his phone once since he locked it in the safe in the villa.

It’s quiet here, serene and it fills him with a peacefulness he’s not felt in a long time. He spends his mornings on the private beach, swimming in the sea, lounging under a parasol reading a book. Before you he couldn’t remember the last time he picked up a paperback, everything he dealt with was digital. It’s only when you’d given him a copy of your book that he’d rediscovered his desire to read for pleasure.

“It was almost as captivating as you are.” He’d told you the next time the two of you met for dinner, the blush had crept across your cheeks and he realises that you hadn’t truly expected him to read it.

In the evenings he likes to cook, it’s something else he’s rediscovered his passion for. Every morning fresh produce is dropped off and he enjoys the challenge of creating a menu for the day out of the offerings.

Back in Chicago his life is so regimented, he don’t get time to stop and smell the roses. He’s on the go from five am to midnight and then it starts all over again. That’s what this vacation has been about, slowing down, taking a moment to breathe.

As he lies in the hammock on the beach with you draped across his body fast asleep, he realises he needs to make some changes in his life. He can’t keep hurtling through his life at break neck speed, he needs to experience it, to live it.

That started with you he thinks, when he read your words about the feel of wild flowers brushing over a lover’s skin, the simplicity of being with another person, your entire attention focused on them. He wants that, no more stolen moments or dinners booked three weeks in advance, he wants to exist in the present, to take the time to love you without having to count down the seconds to his next engagement.

“I’m going to ease back my schedule a little.” He tells you over breakfast the morning you’re both due to fly home. His hand comes to rest on yours, fingers entwining as he looks at you across the table. “Being here with you, it’s made me realise what important. I don’t want to look back at my life and regret the things I’ve missed because I was working too hard.”

You smile then as you stand up and something in his chest flutters. Being with you has brought so much joy to his life, he can’t imagine a world without you in it. You slip into his lap and his arms wrap around you, cradling you close.

“All I want…” You say as your forehead comes to rest against his. “…is for you to be happy.”

Your lips ghost over his and that kiss, there’s such a tenderness in it, a softness. He’s never felt as wanted as he does when he’s with you, he’s never felt so loved, so cared for.

“Being with you…” He whispers as he uses his fingertips to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind your ear. “…it’s the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#jack dayton #jack dayton x reader #one chicago #chicago med #sasha roiz

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official-darkforest · 6 months

Note

i am SOOO unbelievably thrilled by your anthro au omg. do you have fashion ideas for the characters? like their favorite outfits, fabrics, etc? imo one of the best parts of anthro characters is deciding how they'd express themselves through their clothing :]

I HAVE A FEW ALREADY!!!! i dont have many specifics because theres so many characters ahd i havent drawn them all yet LOL but i'll share the ones i do have at least SOMETHING for

im also trying to keep these reasonable for the time period and location, as in my au the clan cats are mostly rural and in small towns set (mostly) before the 2000s so most may dress more modest and conservative (especially if theyre older and very religious)

squirrelflight - the best i can describe her sense of fashion is that it ranged from tomboy as a younger girl and is currently closer to a working class butch. im not sure if masc would be a more appropriate term since i dont hc her as a lesbian (shes bi) but she dresses "like a man" and owns a lot of jeans, slacks, and button-up shirts of all kinds of fabrics and patterns. she also enjoys bright colors as well, but as she got older her fashuon sense got a little more sensible and less "loud" like it was in the 60s and 70s. she also has glasses like her daddy once shes like 35 or so. she and firestar dressed very similarly, and a lot of her shirts and neckties are things she stole from his closet

feathertail - very feminine. hippie adjacent, lots of loose and flowing garments and jingly pieces. breatheable clothes and open toed shoes. her favorite swimsuit had some little frilly bits on it i think. often combines neutral earthy tones with blues and whites

crowfeather - lots of handmedowns from his father. clothes you can do farmwork in like jeans, overalls, hardy flannel/denim shirts and boots. never grew out of this and still dresses this way and he likes it

jayfeather - he looks like a modernized (as far as the 80s goes) version of his father - same hairstyle snd way of dress. he isnt too formal but does have some more preppiness to his clothing style (polo shirts and sweaters). he avoids full button downs since buttoning them himself jjust gets frustrating since he cant match them up every time. new wave band shirts. he also wears orange tinted glasses to protect his eyes (in this au i wrote that hes able to perceive shadows and light pretty okay, but not much else beyond that) And Kinda As A Fashion Statement cuz it goes well with his facial structure and hairstyle i think

lionblaze - hes like if the stereotypical jock and stereotypical 80s rock+metal enthusiast had a baby. muscle tees and bandanas, ripped jeans, those absurdly short shorts, crop tops, etc. he's a drummer i think if that matters LOL

ivypool - punk, also sorta like joan jett to an extent. very homemade, tho sometimes she gets lazy and doesnt really commit to the outfits all the way (but definitely has the mindset, dint get me wrong). one of those girls with a chest small enough to go braless 99% of the time; wears a lot of tank tops and sleeveless shirts LOL

bone/brick/scourge - just google "the outsiders movie" or "greaser" and you'll get the idea. tho i imagine these three in particular also have some kind of bare minimum formalwear scraped together from their escapades. theyre kinda like the jetts/sharks from west side story if that helps at all

daisy - she combines flowing, pretty dresses with a sunhat and work boots. she also teaches horseback riding and owns a few (its a business she runs w smokey and floss. i think its be funny if they were polyam ITS MY AU I CAN CHANGE WHAT I WANT) and she has horseback-appropriate clothing as well

poppyfrost - THEE preppy girl of the 80s. big hair, perm and all. dresses with pastel colors. her sisters cinderheart and honeyfern are pretty similar, tho i imagine honeyfern is a little more sporty and cinderheart takes inspiration from madonna once shes trying to court lionblaze

hazeltail - long haired country girl butch. enough said

spottedleaf snd cinderpelt are nuns lol

#warrior cats #anthro warrior cats #micks anthro au

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fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat · 1 year

Text

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 3

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: Dramatic reveals are revealed, dramatically (or, you and Steve tell the gang about Baby Harrington and it does not go well).

Warnings: language, food mentions, everyone is angry all of the time

Word Count: 7965

Previous Chapter! - Next Chapter!

My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!

Notes: I'm so sorry this took as long as it did! I've been going through it lately but through the power of boygenius I was actually able to finish this bit the other day! Please enjoy and also no one is allowed to be mad at me lol

Steve Harrington was going to be a dad.

The funny thing that came along with that was that Steve was actually going to have to tell people.

He imagined that there were many couples who would be very excited about this prospect. There were lots of young men out there who had mothers begging them for grandchildren. His hadn’t quite gotten there yet.

You had told him that you wanted to put off telling people for as long as you could. He entirely understood why; times had changed quite a bit since his mother’s day, but still, being an unwed mother in Smalltown, USA was relatively frowned upon. Honestly, considering just how gossipy the population of Hawkins tended to be, Steve was surprised the front desk ladies at your doctor’s office hadn’t already spread the news like wildfire, HIPAA be damned; golden boy Steve Harrington and his childhood best friend, having a baby out of wedlock? That was some front page stuff, right there.

Married or not, though, it was going to have to happen sooner rather than later. In a few weeks time, it was going to start getting very difficult to hide. You were going to begin showing any moment now, and as Spring started to settle in, it brought its warmer temperatures with it. You could only hide behind your winter coat and thick sweaters for so long.

And not just your bump; your friends were beginning to pick up on the fact that there was something going on.

“Steve!” Robin barked before tossing a wadded up ball of old receipts at him. It hit him square between the eyebrows. “Stop moping and do your job, please?”

“I’m not moping,” Steve defended (he absolutely was), before turning back to the pile of returns he was supposed to be sorting through.

“Fuck off, yeah you are,” Eddie very helpfully added.

“See, this is why I don’t like it when you hang around here,” Steve said, pointing a pen toward Eddie. “You two always gang up on me!”

“Why do you think I’m here at all?” Eddie quipped back with a smirk.

“Because you don’t have anywhere better to go?” Robin supplied.

“That, too.”

“Either way, I’m not moping,” Steve assured. “I’m fine.”

“That’s a fucking lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Eddie said over the click of the markdown gun, as he emptied its bright orange stickers down that back of his arm. Steve couldn’t help but notice that he had set the price to ‘WAS $4.20, NOW $0.69’.

“Stop that,” Robin huffed as she whipped the tool out of Eddie’s hands. “Steve, I can practically see the rain cloud floating over your head.”

“Oh, my god!” Steve didn’t really want to snap at his friends, but he did it anyway. “Nothing is wrong! I am fine, everything is fine!”

Eddie and Robin just stared at Steve like a pair of deer in headlights from across the counter. They both knew how easily frustrated Steve could become, and they’d be the first to admit that sometimes they can poke at him a bit too hard, but an outburst this quickly had been unexpected. Neither said anything, and Steve just sighed.

After a moment of awkward silence, Eddie spoke up once again.

“Lady problems?”

“Get out!” both Steve and Robin exclaimed, in unison.

“I thought you guys liked me.” Eddie feigned offense.

“You do not work here!” Robin said as she grabbed onto his shoulders and shoved him toward the door. “And Keith’ll get pissed if he finds out you were here and didn’t spend any money, so go home.”

“Fine,” Eddie relented from the entryway. “Hey, I’ll see you guys on Saturday, right?”

“Of course!”

“Probably not.”

“You claim nothing is wrong,” Eddie said, pointing to Steve. “And yet, in the same breath, turn down free beer?”

“Leave!”

“I love you both!”

The bell above the door rang as Eddie walked out, and Steve was left in Robin’s concerned gaze.

“Y’know, Eddie does kind of have a point,” Robin said after a moment. Nine times out of ten, Robin was able to coax Steve out of his quiet and get him to talk about whatever it was that was eating at him, a fact that Steve was highly aware of.

“No, he doesn’t,” Steve barked back. If this conversation didn’t end in the next two minutes, he would jump off the roof.

“You haven’t hung out with any of us in weeks!” Robin exclaimed “Weeks, Steve!”

“I’ve been busy,” Steve lied.

“Busy with what?” she inquired. “Do you have another job I don’t know about, or something?”

“I’m allowed to do things without you around. You know that, right?” It was meaner than he needed to be.

“Oh, god, this isn’t about your lover, is it?” Robin drawled with a scowl.

“You know her name, and you don’t have to say it like that,” Steve responded.

“You two got back together, didn’t you?”

She hadn’t quite gotten it head on, but it was probably as close as she was going to get.

“I knew it!” Robin looked like she was going to explode. “I fucking knew it!”

“Please don’t turn this into a thing,” Steve pleaded.

“Me turn it into a thing?!” She was mad now. “You two are the ones turning it into a thing! You cannot keep sneaking around like this, it cannot possibly be healthy!”

“We’re-” Steve huffed out a breath. This tightrope he was walking across seemed to be growing more and more thin. “Working on it.”

“Can you work on it a little bit faster, please?” Robin asked as she punched out. “You two are so fucking weird about each other. Split, or make it official, just do something, because I hate having to keep this secret for you, it’s exhausting!”

“We sort of already did. I think,” Steve confided. Partial truth is better than no truth, right?

“Split?”

“Make it official.”

“Oh, thank god,” Robin sighed, tossing herself across the counter, all dramatics. “I can finally quit having to cover for you.”

“Don’t say anything yet.” Steve was quick with his damage control. “We, uh, we wanna do it. Ourselves. Figure it’ll probably go over a little bit smoother that way, y’know?”

“Fine, but if you don’t tell everyone soon, I’m going to,” Robin said. “Don’t think I’m the only one who’s noticed something off with you lately.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“Everyone is worried about you, Steve, it’s not just me,” she explained. “Dustin was about two seconds away from showing up at your house after you bailed on us last week.”

Steve didn’t know that. It sent a lightning bolt of regret through his chest.

“The faster you two can get your shit together, the better. I’ve been happily cleaning up this mess for you, but I’m starting to get fucking tired of it, Steve.” Robin looked at her watch. “I was off ten minutes ago.”

She was out the door before Steve could even think up an apology.

Steve and Robin didn’t get into fights often, but he absolutely hated it every time they did. Even silly little arguments left him wracked with guilt sometimes, but proper, go-for-the-throat type fights made feel sick.

Pair that with the fact that he was making Dustin worry, and Steve felt about ready to hurl.

God, this was difficult. Stupidly difficult. Maybe, if he asked nicely, you’d agree to just run away with him so he didn’t have to deal with any of it.

If he could just pluck up the courage to tell his parents, that would at least be a start. They were the difficult ones, the conversation he was dreading more than any of them, and the wild anxiety ate away at him for the rest of his shift. By the time seven o’clock rolled around and he was finally able to go home, it was entirely all-encompassing.

Fuck it. It had to get done either way, right?

The drive from Family Video to his parents house, no longer than ten minutes, felt as though it stretched across half an eternity. The vicious anxiety ate away at his stomach as he drove, and with each turn, each mile crossed, it only increased. Maybe he should just turn around. Maybe he should go home to you, and his parents could just figure it out on their own. He was sure his dad would love that.

Steve pulled into the driveway and was very close to losing what little nerve he had. He turned off the ignition, this is a bad idea. He got out of the car, this is a bad idea. He walked up to the front door and let himself in, this is a bad idea.

He could hear the commotion of his mother making dinner in the kitchen. Something was sizzling; popping and crackling with the smell of onions and garlic, of bell peppers and roasting meat.

Steve had lots of reasons to be jealous of other peoples’ parents, but at least his knew how to cook.

“Steve!” his mother exclaimed once he walked into her view. One hand was occupied by a wooden spoon stirring a pan of vegetables, the other holding a frosty glass of white wine. “I didn’t know whether or not to expect you.”

“You barely even live here anymore,” his father chided from where he was sitting at the counter. His suit coat was off and he had a matching wine glass sitting on the table in front of him. Nine times out of ten, Steve’s parents were able to be amicable with one another. At this point, they acted more like roommates than husband and wife, but at least they were roommates that were able to stand being in the same room as one another. Usually. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you before I left.”

“Sit down! Have a drink,” his mother insisted. She pulled another wine glass out of the cabinet and the bottle out of the fridge.

“Oh, no, I’m alright,” Steve said as he sat down. His mother poured him the glass anyway.

He was about to ruin a perfectly good dinner, Steve thought to himself. His mother probably poured over it all day. The roast that just got pulled out of the oven was probably expensive.

“So, what’s been going on with Steve these days?” his father asked him.

Now or never.

“I actually wanted to, uh,” Steve stuttered out. “I wanted to talk to you guys.”

“You didn’t crash your car, did you?” his father said, only half joking.

“No, the car’s fine.”

“Is this about that girl?” his mother asked as she turned the stove down to low, mischief painting her voice.

“Girl? What girl?” His father pointed his gaze over to Meredith.

“He met a girl,” she responded. She seemed almost giddy with excitement.

“Finally,” his father said. He said it like it was a joke, though it didn’t feel all that well meaning to Steve.

“Oh, tell me it’s Giada’s daughter from down the street,” his mother said. “Have you seen their kitchen? I’d never have to host another Thanksgiving ever again.”

“No, it’s not- no.” Steve wasn’t even sure he knew who Giada was, let alone her daughter.

“Well, at least give us a name, Steve,” his mother said. “Is she cute?”

When Steve said your name, he felt almost like he was condemning you. Like just uttering it strapped you to him, so now you’d both be falling from grace.

“The one who grew up across the street?” his father asked, as if you hadn’t known him your whole life.

“Oh, that’s just too sweet!,” his mother exclaimed. “It’s like a movie, ugh! I’ll have to give her mother a call, she’s going to be thrilled!”

Good luck with that, Steve thought to himself. She won’t even answer the calls from her own daughter.

“Took you long enough,” his father said, leaning back in his barstool, lackadaisical.

“What?” Steve responded. He was wildly unimpressed by his father’s haughty attitude.

“You two have been making googly eyes at each other since you were eight,” he explained. “Frankly, I didn’t think you had the balls to do anything about it.”

“Ron,” his mother chastised at the choice of words.

“What? Obviously, I was wrong.” Ron pointed his gaze back to his son. “Y’know, I think she could be a good influence on you. Steady job, good work ethic. She’s a bit of an oddball, though, but I guess with a father like her’s, could you really blame her?”

Leave it to Ronald Harrington to judge other peoples’ parenting skills while simultaneously insulting his son’s girlfriend.

“Don’t be rude,” Meredith said. Her back was now turned to the two men, arms elbow deep in the sink. “Such a shame her parents moved away, though. I couldn’t imagine going that far without bringing your daughter with you. Is she still living on the south side?”

“Yep.”

“That’s not the safest area in town,” she commented. “Did you hear about that house fire down that way? The woman on the news said that it might have been arson. Arson!”

“It’s alright,” he placated. “Not as bad as it used to be, at least.”

“I still don’t know if I like the idea of a girl like her living all by herself in an area like that,” she said.

“You’ll have to invite her over for dinner once I get back,” his father said, entirely oblivious to the topic of conversation between his wife and son.

There was a moment of silence between the three of them. His mom took a sip of her wine and stuck the meat with a cooking thermometer, his dad refilled his own glass, and Steve felt his stomach do a backflip. This was going poorly.

“If there’s something else you have to tell us, you might as well just rip the bandaid off quick.” His father hit the nail on the head, that was for sure. He paused for a moment before making the kind of poorly timed, borderline insulting joke only someone like his father could.

“God, she’s not pregnant, is she?”

Steve went rigid, and he kept his gaze trained on the swirls in the marble countertop. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t bring himself to, so he just left his parents to piece his silence together on their own.

“Steve,” his mother demanded. She had a carving fork gripped tight in her white knuckled fist, planted hard against the edge of the countertop. Steve was pretty sure she was about to stab him with it. He couldn’t look either of them in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to squeak out. He could feel tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

“Goddamn it, Steven!” his father exclaimed, slamming his hand onto the counter. It made the glasses rattle. “This has to be some kind of joke!”

“I’m sorry!” Steve said, louder this time. “Fuck, I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what?” his father asked. “You didn’t mean to? You didn’t think it would actually happen?”

“I don’t know,” Steve responded. He suddenly felt very small, confronted by his father’s booming voice.

His mother stood silent in her spot on the opposite side of the kitchen island, but there were definitely tears running down her cheeks, and anger radiating off of her in horrible waves that Steve wasn’t used to.

“No, you don’t, because you weren’t thinking at all, were you?” His father fumed. He was standing now, towering over Steve despite the fact that the two of them were almost the same in height. “For Christ’s sake, Steven!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ll have to marry her-”

“We already talked about that. She said she wants to wait,” Steve explained quickly.

“No. No, this is not a question of want, Steven. I don’t care about what you want, you’ve forfeited that right! You both have!” his father spat back.

“I’m not gonna force her to marry me against her will, dad, I’m not evil!” He shouldn’t have said it that way, he knew that. But god, he was mad, and a low blow like that was just as satisfying as he thought it would be.

At least this hadn’t happened when he was 16. He would have been well and truly fucked if this had happened when he was 16.

“You know what? Maybe this is just the thing you need,” his father snapped.

“What?” Steve asked, confused.

“A big mistake for you to finally learn a thing or two.”

Steve wasn’t particularly fond of his father’s use of the word ‘mistake’.

“I leave for Santa Monica tomorrow morning. I’ll be back in a week,” his father stated. “I want you out of my house before then.”

“Ronald,” Meredith broke her silence, exclaiming from behind the tears. Steve knew she wouldn’t explode the way his father was doing, but she really looked like she wanted to.

“No! We have been defending him and making excuses for years, Meredith. Years! If he wants to go play house with his little girlfriend, that’s fine by me, but he’s not gonna do it under my roof.” He doubled down and turned his gaze back to where Steve was sitting. “I think it's a damn good time for him to learn that his actions come with consequences.”

The older man turned away at that and pulled his keys off of the hook on the wall.

“Where are you going?” Meredith called after him. He didn’t bother with an answer, only walked out and slammed the door behind him.

Steve was left alone with his mother, which was simultaneously much better and far worse.

“We were already planning for me to move in with her,” Steve said. If his father had stuck around for a minute longer, he would have been able to explain that to him, too. “She needed a roommate anyway.”

His mother scoffed and shook her head.

“Look, I know that-”

“You make it incredibly difficult for me to be on your side sometimes, Steven,” his mother interrupted.

“I know,” Steve agreed. He did know.

“I wish I could say that I thought your father was being irrational, but I don’t know if I can,” she sighed. “For once, I think he and I might be on the same page.”

“You are?” Steve asked. His father’s vitriolic anger hadn’t come as a surprise, he’d been expecting it, but he thought his mother would be at least a little bit understanding. She always had been before. Steve guessed that this was different, though.

“You’re not going to be able to live in that apartment forever, Steven,” she said.

“I know that.”

“And you’ll definitely need a better job. I highly doubt your father’s previous offer still stands, by the way.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” she asked him. Her voice had a bite to it that he had never been on the receiving end of before. “You’ve been saying ‘I know’ for years now, Steve. You know you need to grow up, you know you’ll have to move out someday, you know you have to do something with your life, yet you have never made any actual effort to do anything about it!”

“Mom, that’s not true-”

“If you want to start making big, adult choices like this, you’re going to have to start acting like one. Clearly, you’re not a child anymore.”

His mother untied her apron and tossed it onto the counter before leaving the kitchen, heels clicking on the tile.

Steve’s whole family had been waiting for that thing; that final, fatal event that would break the Hawkins Harringtons for good. Aunts, uncles, cousins, all piecing together whatever bits of gossip they could, knew that the string that tied Steve to his parents was being pulled thinner and thinner and thinner. His mother could only do so much mending for him, and everyone had spent the last few years waiting with bated breath for that string to snap, for Steve to lose his footing. Once it did, he would plummet.

Steve was now standing alone in his childhood home, scissors in hand.

Steve didn’t know what to do, so he stood up and turned off the stove. He pulled out a tupperware container and boxed up the vegetables. He wrapped the meat in foil and left it out on the counter, because it needed to cool before it could be put away, or else it would screw with the temperature inside the refrigerator. He found a stopper and closed the bottle of wine, placing it in the fridge before gathering the three glasses. His was still full, and he wanted to chug it, but thought better of it and poured it down the drain. He cleaned all of the dishes, dried them, and put them away. He turned off the oven, and wiped down all of the countertops, and neatly hung the towel to dry. He turned off the lights, making sure to leave the one above the stove on as a nightlight.

Truly, there wasn’t much left of his personal belongings that he really cared about that he hadn’t already taken to your apartment. Most of what he needed was already there. He could grab the rest of it when his mother wasn’t home; the rest of his clothes, important documents, that kind of thing. What all do you even need to bring with you when you're being forced out of your childhood home, anyway?

Later. This was something he could deal with later.

So he left. Unsurprisingly, his father’s car was nowhere to be seen. He wanted to keep talking to his mom, to explain himself, to apologize, to say anything, but he knew it would just make it worse than it already was, so he just got into his car and pulled away instead.

He did need a better job. He’d been needing a better job for a while now, actually, but he definitely needed a better job now. And his mother was right, there was no way he would be able to work for his dad after that.

He wished he was able to explain to his parents that hey, funny story, due to atrocities he won’t be explaining right now, the government actually gave him a frankly absurd amount of money a few years ago, and he’d be alright for a while. It wouldn’t last forever, but it was enough to keep the pair of you afloat, especially with yours, too. You had used a bit of it on rent right after your parents had left, but Steve’s money sat mostly untouched in a bank account his family didn’t know he had.

See, the thing about government hush money is that you can’t just go out and spend it on something wild, because then people are going to ask where it came from. Believe him, if he had been able to go out and buy some fancy sports car or a bunch of designer clothes, he would have. His father would have told him to buy a nice watch and invest the rest of it (Steve wasn’t entirely sure what that actually meant, or how to even go about doing it). He was just grateful to have it right now.

He could put a down payment on a house for you and him. That seemed like something a responsible adult would do with it, right?

Steve pulled up to your building and was shocked with how well he’d held it together up until this point, because he felt like he was going to explode. When he got to your floor and walked into your apartment, you were sitting on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, textbooks and paper spread before you. The sound of him walking in pulled you away from your schoolwork and when you turned to look at Steve, you were clearly upset.

“You told me you were off more than an hour ago!” you said as you wiggled out from behind the table and stood up. “I was starting to get really worried, Steve, where were you?”

“I, uhm,” Steve started. He felt his voice crack, the sting of tears beginning to well in his eyes. He had to keep his shit together, for your sake.

“Did something happen?” you asked him. You brought your hands up to the sides of his face, and there went any chance of him keeping it together.

“I told my parents,” he confessed. He was not going to cry in front of you. He wasn’t.

“What?” you questioned. You sounded a little bit hurt that he did it without asking you, but mostly just horribly concerned. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

“We did, but it was eating away at me, and I just couldn’t sit on it anymore, and-” The floodgates broke and Steve’s words were cut off by a strained sob.

“Oh, Stevie.” You pulled him into a hug and Steve wanted nothing more than for these stupid tears to just dry up, but it felt like weeks and weeks of pent up worry and fear were being pulled to the surface, and he didn’t have it in him to try and stop any of it. He was supposed to be the strong one for you, but Jesus Christ, that was difficult. “It was bad?”

“Well, they kicked me out,” Steve said.

“What?”

“Which, I mean, my dad’s right. I barely even live there anymore, so I guess it doesn’t really even matter,” he rambled out, wiping his nose on his sleeve like a child.

“Yes, it does,” you assured him.

“And I’m pretty sure that this is my mother's worst nightmare, so I don’t know why I didn’t expect her to be pissed.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. You pulled Steve towards the couch and carefully lowered onto the cushions, your grasp on his wrists bringing him down to your side.

“And Robin and I got into a fight, too.”

“You didn’t tell her, did you?” you questioned.

“No, but I think if I don’t do it soon, she might disown me,” he admits.

“She’s not going to disown you,” you protested. “She’d never do that.”

“My parents just did,” Steve lamented. “My mother just did. Who’s to say Robin isn’t next, huh?”

Steve would never, ever be able to make his father proud, because his father would never, ever let him even get close. He had known that for a long time, and maybe there was a part of him that was relieved by that. He knew that it was an entirely unattainable goal, so he never really bothered to reach for it. His mother, oh so cruelly, always made sure Steve knew that he could do great things. Why did she have to go and do that? Steve knew his mother held him to a high bar, he just hadn’t ever considered the possibility that he wouldn’t be able to jump high enough.

So maybe that’s why it hurt so badly when you curled into him that night when he finally crawled into bed. Maybe that’s why he called into work the next day, even though he knew it would probably make Robin totally freak out. Maybe that’s why he waited until he saw his mother’s car leave the driveway before going into his - what used to be his- house to box up the last of his things.

Maybe that’s why he missed the Hawkins Police Department truck parked outside of your apartment building when he was bringing groceries inside a handful of days later.

“I’m back!” he called into your apartment after releasing the wildly heavy grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. Making more than one trip is for suckers. “They didn’t have any pineapple juice, so I just got a pineapple, figured it can’t be too hard to just-”

Steve cut himself off when he looked up from the paper bags to see more than just you sitting in the living room; Joyce was sitting on your left with an arm wrapped protectively over your shoulders, Robin on your right with her legs pulled up underneath her and a tissue box in her lap, and Hopper was propped up on the arm of the couch. You were in the middle of the array, in tears.

“Hello,” Steve nervously greeted, eyes wide as frisbees and blood running cold.

There was absolutely no universe in which this went well.

Robin’s expression, which had clearly been soft and sympathetic before Steve had interrupted them, quickly changed into anger. She shot up from the couch, earning her a disapproving tut from Joyce and making you wince away from her. It took her three wide stomps to cross the small space and grab onto Steve’s wrist with more strength than he knew she had in her.

“Ow, Robin!” Steve complained as she dragged him out into the hallway. She slammed the door hard behind her and it made Steve jump.

“What the fuck, Steve!” she demanded.

“Robin-”

“I mean, seriously, what the fuck!” Steve could already hear the noise complaints from the neighbors as she chastised him. “You lied to me!”

“I-” didn’t, is what he wanted to say, but he knew better than that. “I’m sorry.”

“How long have you two been back together then?” she questioned. Steve really didn’t want to admit it. “How long?”

“Six months,” he replied, sheepishly.

“Six months?!” Robin shrieked in disbelief. “Jesus Christ, you really did lie to me!”

“Robin,” Steve said, hushed and ashamed and really fucking mad at himself.

“For half a year! You lied to me for half a year!”

“I’m sorry!”

“She had to turn down her job offer from the school,” Robin barked.

“I know that.”

“The job that she’s been talking about for, oh I don’t know, six months? Probably more than that, actually!”

“I know, Robin, alright?” Steve assured her and crossed his arms across his chest. “You think I don’t? I am highly aware of that!”

“And, I’m sorry, but you’re far from the King of Responsibility!” Robin said.

“What does that mean?!” Steve questioned, a tint of frustration layered over his words.

“I’m just saying, you aren’t exactly known for your maturity,” she spat.

“You think we wouldn’t be able to take care of-”

“She can. I know she can. She’s more than capable of doing whatever the hell she puts her mind to, but you?” Anger and resentment dripped from her mouth with each word. “You, I’m honestly not sure. If you were more willing to lie to my face for six months than you were to just tell me the fucking truth, I’m sorry, but that’s really winning you any responsible adult points, is it?”

Tears pricked behind Steve’s eyes. He wanted to yell, to scream at the top of his lungs that, no, Robin, you’re wrong, I can do this!, but he really wasn’t sure if it was true. If his closest friend, one of the people he trusted most in the whole world, really thought that he wouldn’t be able to do this, then maybe she’s right, right?

The apartment door next to Steve slowly creeped open.

“Everything alright out here?” Hopper asked, carefully planting himself just slightly between Steve and Robin.

Robin lost her vitriol like a tea kettle after the burner got turned off, leaving her with no more steam to fuel what she needed to say.

“I’m waiting out in the car,” she muttered as she whizzed past Steve and turned down the stairwell. The two men in the hall listened to her descending footsteps. Once they heard the front door open and slam back shut, Jim broke through the quiet.

“Robin wanted me to check up on you after you called out,” Jim explained. “She was worried you were mad at her, after your fight.”

“Right,” Steve said.

“So, imagine my surprise when your mom answers the door, only to tell me that you don’t live there anymore,” the older man said. “She wouldn’t tell me why, just gave me an address and shut the door.”

“Look, if you’re here to give me another angry dad talk, then you don’t have to bother. Mine did a pretty damn good job all on his own,” Steve asserted.

“I’m not here to be angry.” Steve could tell that Hopper was choosing his words very, very carefully.

“Oh, that’s unlike you,” Steve commented, arms still crossed and eyes on the floor.

“Don’t be shitty!” Jim snapped. Steve withered.

“Sorry,” he muttered, still not able to look the man in the eyes. Jim just sighed.

“Do you have a plan, Steve?” he asked.

“Yes. No,” Steve replied. “I don’t know. She seems to have one.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’m just not sure if I fit in it,” Steve confessed.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Jim huffed. “Maybe you do need another angry dad talk!”

“What do you want me to say?” Steve interrogated. “That everything is under control and totally normal? I have no idea what’s going to happen! None! And, honestly? I’m fucking terrified, Hopper!”

“Steve-”

“I have to be good at this. I have to! Because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I’m not, but I am so terrified that I won’t be able to, and I’m going to let her down, and I can’t do that!” It all came out as some sort of paranoia fueled stream of consciousness. “I’d rather die than be anything like my dad, but what if it’s just in my blood? Like, I’m just predestined to turn out just as shitty as him!”

“You definitely won’t,” Jim said, as if it were just a simple fact. “I can assure you, there are very few people on this earth as shitty as your father, and you are not one of them.”

Jim wasn’t overly fond of Ronald Harrington; he was an all-around asshole to most people he met.

“Look, as much as I hate to admit it, you two aren’t kids anymore,” Hop said. “You’re grownups, you two are smart. You can make your own choices. If this is the choice you two wanna make, then make it.”

“You’re making it sound so simple,” Steve snarked.

“It kind of is,” the chief replied.

“Really? Because this feels like the least simple thing that’s ever happened to me,” Steve said. “You’re really not mad?”

“Well, I’m not thrilled,” Hopper grumbled. “But, like I said. You two are grownups. You can do whatever the hell you want.”

The pair stood in silence for a moment. Steve knew that Hop was more than likely lying about how mad he was, though he had been preparing himself for Jim to completely lose it on him. He probably would have deserved it.

“Does it ever get less terrifying?” Steve asked, genuinely wanting to know.

“Nope.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“And it’s not just the fun parts,” Jim added.

“I know,” Steve responded.

“It’s more than just tiny socks and decorating the nursery.”

“I know that.”

“Just makin’ sure.” Jim was far from happy, but he gave Steve a nod and a pat on the back, which was as close to congratulations as he was going to get. “I know the kids give you a hard time, but you’re smart, and so is she. You two know what you’re doing.”

“Thank you.”

“She’s really, really scared, Steve,” Hopper said. There was something in his voice; a silent question of ‘do you really know what it is you’re getting yourself into?’

“I know,” Steve replied.

“You don’t get to panic now, alright?” Jim told him. “And you don’t get to change your mind.”

“I won’t. I promise,” Steve said; ‘I do know, and I want all of it.’ “I would never do that to her. Never.”

The pair went back inside, and you seemed to be in slightly better spirits now, even if you still had a sea of tears in your eyes. Both you and Joyce turned to face the two men with questions in your eyes, and Jim’s small nod seemed to be enough of an answer for Joyce to shoot off of the couch to envelop Steve in a tight hug.

“I have lots of baby things I can bring by for you two,” she gushed after pulling away.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said to her, but she was having none of it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Joyce assured. “It’s all just collecting dust anyway.”

Which left Dustin, who in a lot of ways, Steve was the most worried about. He could take the anger from the grownups. Hell, he could take it from Robin, but Dustin, he was less sure about.

In true Henderson fashion, he found out about Baby Harrington a few days later, entirely by mistake.

“I still don’t understand why they kicked you out in the first place,” Dustin stated from his spot on the living room floor of your (Steve’s!) apartment. He was digging through a pile of old clothes Steve decided he no longer needed. He had a lot of things, he’d realized while moving in, and he really only wanted a few of them, needed even less. He would donate whatever went unclaimed, but Dustin wanted first dibs for himself.

“Because they’re assholes,” Steve responded.

“Okay, yeah, fair, but hasn’t Robin been begging you to get a place with her for, like, a year?”

“It’s not like I was able to really take my time apartment hunting.”

“I still feel like crashing on Robin’s couch for a while would’ve made more sense than moving in here,” Dustin supplied. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I needed an apartment, she needed a roommate, that’s it. Alright?” Steve loved Dustin like a little brother, but good lord, he could be obnoxious sometimes. “Now pick out what you want so I can clean this shit up.”

Dustin finished his haul, though he grumbled about how Steve was rushing him the whole time, and gathered the previously neatly folded clothes into a messy pile.

“I didn’t think of how I was gonna get any of this stuff out to the car.” Dustin, at not- quite- eighteen years old, had finally gotten his drivers license. ‘Thank god,’ Steve had remarked, ‘that I don’t have to be your fucking chauffeur anymore.’ That sentiment only lasted a little while, though, as it quickly became clear that a drivers license meant that Dustin could come and bother Steve whenever he wanted to. And he wanted to all the time. “Will you help me carry it all out?”

“No, I won’t, because there are more trash bags in the cabinet under the sink.” Steve pointed towards the small kitchen. Dustin got up off the floor, going into the kitchen and checking in seemingly every cupboard you had.

“I said under the sink, dude!” Steve heard the squeaky cabinet hinges open and shut, the rustle of the plastic trash bag.

“Steve?” Dustin called after a moment. The apartment was small, and the only real thing separating the kitchen and living room was a few feet of counter and the floor switching from tile to carpet.

“What?” Steve responded, not bothering to look up from the clothes he was shoveling back into their own trash bag.

“What’s this?” Dustin asked him. When Steve finally looked up at him, he was pointing towards something on the fridge, and it took Steve a second to realize that what Dustin was referring to was the ultrasound pictures that he’d forgotten to take down.

Well, shit.

Steve rocketed towards the fridge to put them away, but Dustin was faster and grabbed them before he could. The damage was already done.

“Dustin, please give me that,” Steve asked.

“This has her last name on it,” the younger boy observed.

“Put it down, alright? You weren’t supposed to see it in the first place, so just-”

“Is she fucking pregnant?” Dustin demanded.

“Dustin, please.”

“I didn’t think she was dating anyone, though?” the boy thought out loud. “Oh, my god, I wonder if it’s someone we know!”

Oh, it definitely is.

“Dude, c’mon, please just give me the picture.” Remember what Steve said about Dustin being obnoxious?

“Wait, why are you moving in with her if she’s pregnant?” Dustin inquired. “I’m pretty sure that extra bedroom is gonna be pretty occupied in nine months.”

“It’s closer to six, actually,” Steve clarified, and Dustin’s eyes widened. “But that isn’t the point, can you please just-”

“Steve?” the boy asked, tone shifting away from curiosity into something Steve found much more concerning.

“Yeah?” Steve sighed.

“Why did you move in with her?” he asked again, although the way he spoke the words made Steve think Dustin probably already had it figured out.

“Why do you think?” was all Steve could come up with to say.

“Oh, my god.”

“Dustin-”

“Oh, my god!”

“You cannot tell anyone, okay? This is totally top secret,” Steve begged.

“Did you-? You two-!” Dustin stuttered out. “Oh, my god!”

Dustin was about to start hyperventilating and Steve was doing his best to keep that from happening, pulling the glossy image out of Dustin’s hand as if it were made of precious porcelain, when the sound of keys jingling in the door distracted them. Both boys fell into bitter silence as you opened the door and took in the sight in front of you; a very frazzled Steve and a very distressed Dustin.

“Hi?” you greeted. “What’s going-”

“You’re fucking pregant?” Dustin exclaimed.

“What?” you spat out in response. Steve could tell that your mind was working a mile a minute to come up with a way to cover for yourself. “I-I don’t, uhm-”

“I left the sonogram on the fridge by mistake,” Steve confessed. He felt awful. “I’m sorry, it didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Oh,” you replied. You hadn’t moved from your spot in the entryway, hadn’t put down your bag or taken off your coat. You just stayed frozen.

“Oh, I have so many feelings!” Dustin wheezed, leaning forward. “Oh, my god!”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned him.”

“You’re having a fucking baby?” Dustin asked you.

“Yes,” you timidly responded, slowly placing your work bag onto the side of the couch.

“With Steve?!”

“Yes,” you said again.

“That Steve?” Dustin pointed a thumb over his shoulder to where Steve was hovering behind him. “Steve Harrington? Our Steve?”

You nodded. “That Steve.”

“Holy shit,” the boy breathed out.

“Please don’t be mad,” Steve requested.

“What? Mad, why would I be mad?” he asked. “Who’s mad?”

“Well, so far, everyone,” Steve explained.

“Wait, is this why Robin’s not talking to you?” Dustin asked.

“Robin’s not talking to you?” you piped up, concern dripping from your words.

Steve hadn’t mentioned that part to you yet.

Robin had been giving Steve total radio silence ever since she had found out. Even at work, she was refusing to say a single word to him. She went and hid in the bathroom anytime Steve tried to say anything at all, and she had even recruited Keith to be her disinterested, detached middle man and relay VHS-related messages if she really needed to.

To say the least, she really hadn’t taken it all that well.

“Later?” he said to you, silently begging you to table this conversation for a time when you didn’t have a very upset teenager in your kitchen.

Sticky silence fell over the three of you, sealing to Steve’s skin and filling his lungs up in a way he hated. Dustin was the one who peeled through it first.

“Are you actually having a baby?” The question was directed to Steve this time. Dustin was wildly expressive, he always had been, and he looked very, very overwhelmed. Steve felt about the same. He just nodded, and it took a second for Dustin to properly process the news.

“Gimme the picture again!” Dustin insisted.

“No, dude! We only have a few and-”

“Excuse me, it’s my nephew, I think I get to see the picture if I want to!”

The tension dissolved as soon as the words came out of Dustin’s mouth. Steve had been so, so worried that he’d be mad, madder than Robin was.

“Hah! See, Dustin thinks it’s a boy, too!” Steve exclaimed to you. Reservation made way for excitement. Like Dustin said, it’s his nephew.

“Oh, god, please don’t start with this again,” you said, smiling despite the faux exasperation in your voice.

“You think it’s a girl?” Dustin asked.

“I think,” you say as you shuck off your coat and lean against the counter, across from the boys, “that Steve is going to get his hopes up about it being a boy, and then be disappointed if it isn’t.”

“Not possible,” Steve clarified with a smile. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about it because I’m right, and it’s gonna be a boy.”

Dustin didn’t end up leaving until a good few hours later, when Steve noticed how your eyes kept fluttering shut as you leaned against his shoulder. He had to manhandle the boy out the door; he had a seemingly unending vault of questions (“you guys have been sleeping together this whole time?!”), but you were totally wiped.

You really just wanted to just go to bed, but Steve insisted you ate something first, and a mug of soup later, you were practically dead on your feet. He cleaned up any dinner mess (canned soup doesn’t really result in any mess, but he’d be damned if you had to put your own dishes into the dishwasher), and sent you off to get ready for an early turn in.

He’d just put the pot away when you summoned him into the bathroom.

“You alright?” Steve asked, leaning against the doorframe. You were standing in front of the sink in your pajamas. He could smell your mouthwash.

“Come look.”

Steve took a step into the bathroom to sidle up next to you as you pulled the bottom edge of your too-big t-shirt up. Your fingers ever so gently ghosted over your stomach.

“That wasn’t there before,” you asked, tilting your head back against the crook of Steve’s arm to look up at him. “Was it?”

Steve was entranced by your reflection in the mirror, by the way the swell of your tummy absolutely gave you away.

“I don’t know.” Steve spoke just barely above a whisper, the way he would have if he was standing in a church. You felt like an angel beneath his arm. “I don’t think so.”

“I feel like I would have noticed it if it was,” you said, eyes glued to the mirror just as Steve’s were.

“Definitely would’ve noticed,” Steve quietly gushed. “You officially have a baby bump.”

Realistically, you still had a couple more weeks before anyone else would actually be able to see it. Still small enough to hide behind your clothes, but absolutely, undoubtedly there.

You hummed, and Steve noticed the way you were trying to hide your smile.

“You’re allowed to be happy about it, you know,” Steve reminded you. Your eyes caught his again, and your small, shy smile grew just a little bit bigger as you pulled his hand away from your hip and placed it firmly against the slope of your tummy. He felt his breath hitch, like the action of touching you was breaking some sort of cardinal law, but he stroked his thumb up and down, up and down across your skin, and you flattened yourself as deeply into his chest as you possibly could. He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering in the scent of you for as long as he could allow himself to.

His hand stayed glued to you for the remainder of the evening.

Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @hoesbloated @luvlexi-darling

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #joe keery #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x f!reader

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6okuto · 1 year

Text

WANNA GET BREAKFAST?

time skip + gn!reader | fluff (?), mutual pining w no resolution. Lol.

the first time atsumu shows up at your house this week is for a movie marathon. he moves through your home as if it was his own—no hesitation in opening cupboards he knows have bowls and cups, grabbing his go-to blanket from your closet, and taking up more space on the couch than you until you shove his legs away.

he falls asleep during the third movie, head on your shoulder and arm across your lap. when he wakes up, he denies your claims of him snoring and drooling on your shirt.

the second time he shows up is the morning after, 30 minutes after calling to ask if he left his charger in your living room.

you open the door to find him wearing pyjama pants and a shirt you bought him years ago as a birthday gift, hair still messy in a fluffy, you really want to reach out and touch it way. “mornin’.”

“good morning.”

otherwise wordlessly, you offer his charger and he wraps it up to fit nicely in his pocket. he thanks you, and you shift on your feet to lean against the door frame.

a beat passes where neither of you move to say goodbye.

“do you wanna grab breakfast together?” he asks suddenly.

“you want to spend another day with me?”

“woah, i never said that. just breakfast.”

it isn’t just breakfast. though you guessed as much hours ago.

you’re back in your room that evening laughing over things that happened years ago—things you’ve talked about a dozen times but never seem to grow tired of. your head is on his chest, and you can feel his laughter run through you while you reenact a god awful sex ed class that haunts you to this day.

atsumu stays until your eyes droop and you keep yawning, and he figures he should head home to make sure nothing somehow caught fire while he was away.

you manage to walk him to the door, and his hands find their way to pull the blanket tighter around your sleepy figure. “you sure you can make it back to bed?” he teases.

“goodnight, ‘tsumu.”

the third time, again, the morning after, atsumu doesn’t bother calling to check if you're home before you hear the doorbell ring.

“‘tsumu? did you forget something again?”

he doesn’t respond at first. he isn’t even looking at your face when he snickers. “yeah, actually. the sweater someone that isn’t me happens to be wearing.”

looking down, you see the familiar MSBY logo on your chest and feel your face warm. it hits you then that when you reached for your hoodie, it had been in the laundry, not at the corner of your bed.

maybe that's why you fell asleep to the smell of his cologne.

“...shut up.”

you move a little too fast to take it off, if only to cover your face by pulling it over your head. “didn’t say y’had to take it off.”

you freeze, and just like the day before, the both of you stare at each other for a second.

maybe two.

your hands let go of the sweater edge, clenching and unclenching your fists instead. “good. it’s comfy.”

“mhm,” he hums. “it suits you.”

ignoring the compliment, this time you’re the one who asks, “do you wanna get breakfast?”

he shoots you a smile. “sure. you paying?”

the fourth time that atsumu shows up, you’re the one who called.

“are you missing something?”

“what? am i s'pposed to say you?” he answers, voice still groggy.

yes, a part of you thinks. “no, idiot. you left your headphones here.”

“...oh.” there’s shuffling on the other side of the line, and you imagine he’s looking around to confirm as if you weren’t holding the headphones in your hand. “guess i did.”

“i’ll come over then. breakfast after?”

the question makes you smile. “yeah, but i’m too lazy to go out. wanna cook something?”

“fuck no.” atsumu lets out a breathy laugh. “how is cookin' any less work than going to a café?”

“okay, baby, do you want cereal?”

“woah, woah, woah, baby?” he asks loudly. the grin on his face is audible. “i knew y’had a crush on me.”

“that’s not—god, i’m hanging up on you.”

you don’t hang up. not until he finishes laughing and you hear him confirm, “be there in 20.”

it’s the fifth time atsumu comes over that really confuses you.

“why are you here?”

“that's how you greet your best friend?”

“stop it, you know what i mean. i didn’t find anything you left behind, we even double checked before you left,” you point out, brows furrowed.

“yeah, i know. kinda ruined my plan.” he pouts at you.

you blink back at him.

“what plan?”

atsumu, jokingly aghast, softly says your name. he drags out the last syllable in that teasing, endearing way that makes your stomach do a flip. “you think i’d just forget things i use regularly at your house 3 times in one week?”

“i—well,” you start and sputter. it sounds stupid to say now but, “i mean, yeah, i guess?”

a laugh escapes your best friend and even as your face warms in embarrassment, it's a nice sound. he leans in slightly, tilting his head. “and you call me the idiot?”

looking at the grin on his face, witty remarks, statements, any words at all flash in your head, none staying long enough for you to figure out what to say. your eyes flicker between him and anywhere, everywhere else.

cute, atsumu thinks.

maybe if you weren’t looking at the tree behind him, you would have noticed his eyes flicker between yours down to your lips.

they stay there, on your mouth, a little longer than he expects. only by a second, but whatever confidence atsumu has falters as his face starts to go red. clearing his throat, he moves back a breathable distance away.

“nevermind, you'll figure it out. you, uh, still wanna get breakfast?”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #bwah....my atsumu..hes so silly #smth abt leaving smth at their house as an excuse to come over is so cutesie 2 me #who gets me. whooo is getting me rn

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solunstell · 10 months

Text

List of bsd headcanons

Dazai:

Has bpd. A lot of his traits remind me of my friends with it

He some kind of trans. Nonbinary. Transfem. Transmasc. Idk he's megender lmao

He's described as appearing very youthful in the first two light novels. I imagine that once the events of the main timeline start picking up though, with all the time stopping or slowing abilities that *dont affect him*, he actually ages faster than the other characters. I draw current dazai with small wrinkles, which also hints at stress and stuff

Also, I imagine current dazai getting tanner as he works in the light, as well as getting more prominent freckles.

Round/doe eyes because that is part of his appearance in my opinion. Seeming unsuspecting and innocent, especially during his mafia days

Bad eyesight in his right eye from being under the bandages for so long. Saw this headcanon and loved it

Similarly, beastzai has bad vision in general

I always call No Longer Human an anti-ability in my head, fun fact

He loves to touch other people. Not a fan of being touched by others unless asked

I draw him with red eyes in color, and usually black eyes in ink (inconsistent artstyle my beloved)

Aroace spectrum

heavy sleeper. Very

Chuuya

FRECKLES and tan from sheep days

He likes to be close to other people more than actually touching. Presence over contact

That shade of eyes that changes colors in the light (but I use a grey base lol)

Also some sort of trans, but in a different way than dazai

Brownish red hair. Not blazing, not just brown

That man is AUTISTIC

One time instinctively kicked a friend with his ability active, expecting them to dodge cuz he's used to dazai easily dodging. They did, but they were SO CLOSE to getting hit. Imagine a confused face like wtf why you try to kick me

Light sleeper, but every now and then sleeps like he just learned how to close his eyes

A lot of his jokes go over people's heads because they expect him to be serious and his voice just doesn't change between serious and not serious

Ranpo

Autism plus adhd ftw

Aroace spectrum

Poe

He/they vibes

Anxiety

Gay af

I can 100% see him being into knitting. Imagine the guide plus ranpo all in matching sweaters

Loves baking. Sooooo bad at it

Lucy

Bi (with a lean towards girlies) she/it

VERY good at baking

But she won't share :(

Atsushi

Anxiety, so much anxiety

Aroace spectrum vibes

Very easily idolizes people and then gets surprised when they actually like being around him

Akutagawa

Aroace spectrum

Autism cuz he is so mecore sometimes

Very trans vibes from me

(I like to imagine him having tourettes cuz I have tourettes and I am Not projecting)

Atsushi (special kitty hearing) and jouno being the only ones who can hear some of his tics. He will be horrified that anyone notices them

Wait no actually I'm gonna incorporate that into my belief system. That's canon now

Mori

Genuinely cares about a lot of his workers, but not all of them

He gives great bonuses for birthdays

He absolutely loves vtubers if bsd were in a modern setting. Rip mori. He'd have also loved vocaloid lmao

Ozaki

Masc energy. Fem energy. Ooh I can see ozaki with any pronouns and identity

Kinda person to accidently either overpack or underpack. Always has painkillers, never has a pen

Ridiculous memory. Incredible gift giver. Would get someone something months or years after overhearing them say they wanted something once

"Whyd you get me a hairdryer?"

"You said you needed one. I saw it and thought of you."

"...that was months ago. I got a hairdryer already."

"..." *takes hairdryer back* "sorry wrong person. I don't have my contacts in my bad"

She has perfect vision

Kunikida

Trans vibes. In any and every direction

Adhd af

Will always conveniently have room in his schedule when Aya wants to go do something and needs someone to go with her. No, he's TOTALLY not frantically writing and erasing things, get your glasses updated

You can usually count on him to continue the bit cuz he won't realize there is a bit occurring

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lesbianoms · 11 months

Note

Well I’m not a MILF because I’m not a mom, but…

You know, I’m not supposed to eat before bed (something about acid reflux messing with my eustachian tubes, it’s a whole thing lol, the joys of getting older)

But I am hungry, and it’s not like I’m planning to go to sleep for a while now: certainly not if I have you to play with. The first stages of digestion are just so enjoyable, as much as I would like to pack you away like the meal you are, I still want to stay up to experience them. I love feeling you squirm, as if you have any chance of escape. It’s cute, really. I like seeing the bulges of your hands and feet and elbows and knees as you fight against me, but all your struggles are no match for my body. After a while, I can feel you beginning to soften, your movements growing fainter as you surrender to me. I give my soft belly a little shake and feel your goopy form slosh from side to side. Doing it work nicely

I’m beginning to drift off myself now, half conscious of you gurgling into my intestines to be absorbed. Ah well, you’re nothing but nutrients to me now. Still. My belly gives a long, satisfied groan, and I lay a hand on top of it. It’s still impressively round, but delightfully squishy as I poke and prod. You must no longer be conscious now, too, but I do hope you know how much I enjoyed you

In the morning, I’ll wake up to a much smaller tummy, still working away at you. I think I’ll wear something a little more revealing today- I have a nice cropped sweater- so I can show you off. I enjoy the way my belly jiggles cutely with you as I walk

It’s up to you what happens now. If you want to reform, well, I’m sure to be hungry again sometime soon, and it can be a bother trying to find a brand new meal every time. If not, you’d be a lovely addition to my hips. I’m quite happy either way

Dear LORD this is my dream 🥵

Was smiling and kicking my feet as I finished reading this, oooouhj the amount of detail you went into here…

Tbh I kind of can’t formulate a lot of coherent responses because now I’m gonna be thinking about this scenario while I go to bed, wrapping myself up in my sheets, wishing that I was digesting in your belly…..

Uuugh and the little comments about how you’re an older woman, how you’d love to show me off with that crop sweater, about me gurgling away in your soft lower gut and the jiggle of your belly as it continues to work on me~ 🥰

Although I may have been a bit feisty, at the end of the day I’m honored to be your meal… to have made your stomach so round and squishy-soft….. curled up in that wet, hot, groaning and bubbling paradise ❤️❤️

~~~

I actually did fall asleep thinking about being your dinner, funnily enough. Was gonna post this last night but it seems your belly put me in my place before I could finish writing <3

It must be so cozy in there, so sopping wet… feeling your hands all over me as your body softens up my form. I’m getting turned on imagining all of the sounds your tummy would make as it had its way with me… and as I lose consciousness I’ll only be thinking of you 💕

I might stay on your hips for a while before I reform, just as a treat for me. I need a break from being a person, y’know? But for now I think I’ll stay gluting and brbling inside of your much smaller, but still very active tummy. Have fun breaking me down and hearing me groan and gurgle through your guts~ ❤️😍

FUCK I want you to eat me. I wanna be your tummy fat so bad!!

#v.ore #v0re #soft vore #vore talk #asks #digestion #fatal vore #reformation #f/f vore #vore kink #vorny #vore writing #this is good #fuck 🥵#minors dni

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 years

Text

North To The Future [Chapter 1: Building A Mystery]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life...but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: This is a work of au fiction utilizing characters from HBO’s House Of The Dragon series. It will have humor, drama, angst, danger, bears, bars, boats, boy bands, blizzards, dogs, 90s nostalgia, and lots more!

Chapter warnings: Language, lowkey sexual tension, alcoholism (obvi), poor life choices, minor injury to an animal but he’s totally fine.

Word count: 3.4k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

*** I’m going to tag like a bazillion people since this is the first chapter of a new fic, but I WILL NOT TAG YOU AGAIN unless you ask me to. I hope you are all doing well, wherever you are in the world. 🥰😘 ***

@aemcndtargaryen @crispmarshmallow @tclegane @daddysfavoritesexkitten @poohxlove @imagine-all-the-imagines @nsainmoonchild @skythighs @bratfleck @thesadvampire @yor72 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @loverandqueenofdragons @omgsuperstarg @endless-ineffabilities @devynsshitposts @vencuyot @ladylannisterxo @cranberryjulce @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @liathelioness @mirandastuckinthe80s @haezen @fairaardirascenarios @darkened-writer @weepingfashionwritingplaid @signyvenetia @crossingallmine @burningcoffeetimetravel @yummycastiel @lol-im-done @lovemissyhoneybee @nomugglesallowed @witchmoon @yoshiplushie @torchbearerkyle @sweetashoneyhoney @quartzs-posts @lauraneedstochill @nctma15 @queenofshinigamis @rapoficeandfire @hinata7346 @curiouser-and-curiouser-fics @meadowofsinfulthoughts @imjustboredso @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @myspotofcraziness @bregarc @mikariell95 @doingfondue @justconfusedperiod @mommyslittlewarcriminal @graykageyama @elsolario

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

“He’s going to hit the mailbox,” Jennifer says. She’s peering out of the window with her hands cupped around her eyes like goggles. “He’s going to hit it…he’s going to hit it…” There is a snapping sound, a crunch, squealing brakes. “Mailbox down.”

It’s mid-November and nearly 4:00 p.m., so it’s pitch black outside except for the dim, sepia luminescence of streetlights. Blazing high-beams skate across the window. Jen steps back, blinking.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“I don’t know. Some guy in a green Nova.”

A Chevy Nova? Front-wheel drive? Not advisable. Almost everyone here has an SUV…or, better yet, a pickup truck. Outside, the high-beams die and a car door slams. Five seconds later, he bursts into the lobby carrying a massive golden retriever. There’s blood all over the dog’s head and chest, drying clumps snared in his fur; still, his tail is wagging. It starts wagging harder when he sees you.

“You’re a vet, right?” Nova guy asks frantically. He’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater, a red flannel shirt, light-wash Levi’s, and black Converses. Another bad choice; he should have boots. “I saw the sign outside.”

“I sure am.” You point him to the exam room. “Right this way.”

Nova guy staggers through the doorway and heaves the golden retriever up onto the high metal table. Jen follows you both into the exam room with a clipboard to record her notes. She is the all-purpose assistant and your sole employee. The veterinary clinic is otherwise empty; your last appointment—a routine and uneventful checkup of Mr. Sullivan’s cantankerous tomcat Biggie Smalls—ended twenty minutes ago. You begin to evaluate the golden retriever. He has a laceration on his muzzle, but seems otherwise unharmed. His tail is still wagging. Head wounds bleed a lot and can thus incite disproportionate panic. Oftentimes, they aren’t half as bad as they look.

“You can fix him, right?” Nova guy pleads. There’s a streak of tacky crimson blood on his cheek, you notice now. “A bear got him. Clawed him, I think. I let him outside when I got off work, and next thing I knew I turned around and he was chasing off a bear. A goddamn bear. Like a huge bear. A Smokey Bear bear.”

“Yes,” you say, amused. “We have bears here.” Then you add: “Your dog is going to be just fine.”

“Oh, thank God,” Nova guy exhales, clutching his chest. You numb the golden retriever’s muzzle with lidocaine and begin disinfecting the wound with povidone-iodine solution.

“What’s his name?” Jen asks. She is busily jotting down notes.

“Sunfyre.”

Jen pauses, pen hovering in mid-air. “Sun…fire…?”

“Sunfyre,” Nova guy repeats irritably. “One word. With a Y.”

“…Where is the Y…?”

“In fire.”

Jen frowns down at her form as she fills in the letters. “Why would you spell fire with a Y?”

“To make him more awesome, obviously,” Nova guy murmurs. He leans down to rub the golden retriever’s shaggy ears and wobbles as he does. Sunfyre’s tail thumps on the exam table. “You’re gonna be okay, buddy. Yes you are. You’re gonna be just fine, the nice vet lady says so.”

You catch a whiff of him, dark bitterness and sweetness and spice: rum, a lot of rum. “Did you drive here drunk?”

He narrows his eyes at you. They’re bleary and royal blue. “Maybe.”

“It’s like 4 p.m. on a Monday, why are you drunk right now?”

“I’m sorry, are you a people doctor? Because I thought I came here so you could fix my fucking dog.”

“He’s getting fixed,” you assure the man calmly. You’re accustomed to dealing with rather unhinged pet owners. To some people, animals are like children; and you wouldn’t expect someone to act rational if their kid was lying here bloodied from a bear attack, would you?

“How old is he?” Jen asks.

“I don’t know, like, young?”

“About five,” you say, checking Sunfyre’s teeth. Then you begin suturing. Nova guy moves to pet the dog’s side to give you more room to work; Sunfyre is so relaxed he’s nearly dozing. “Has he had his rabies shots?”

“Yeah, he’s had them, he…” The man pats his jeans pockets. “Oh shit, I mean I don’t have the paperwork with me or anything, but I know he’s good because he got vaccinations in San Francisco and that’s the last place we were. Less than a year ago. Like eight months tops.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because this is important.”

“Look lady, I don’t even know if I’m up to date on my shots, but I know for a fact he is.”

“Okay,” you concede.

“What’s your name, sir?” Jen asks Nova guy, relieved in anticipation of a nice simple human answer: Jason, Michael, Daniel, Brian, Steven.

“Aegon,” he says.

“…Aegon?!”

He glares at Jen with a dreadful sort of resignation, as if he’s repeated this moment a thousand times in a thousand different universes. “It’s Greek.”

“You don’t look Greek.”

“You don’t look like a genealogist.”

Jen recoils and continues her notes. She has a point: Nova guy—Aegon, you mentally amend—has pale sunless skin, dark semi-circles under his eyes, hair so light a blond it’s nearly pure white. Jen begins her next question tentatively, like she’s afraid to ask. “Last name?”

“Targaryen.” And then he adds: “Also Greek.”

She stares at him. “Tar…?”

He sighs. “T-A-R-G…”

As they go back and forth—again, Jen is baffled by the placement of a Y—you instinctively glance up at the flier on the wall. The police have plastered them across every business in town: Report suspicious activity immediately! Beware of strangers! Help keep Juneau safe! The words are bright red beneath the sketch of a menacing, scarlet-eyed specter in a trench coat. The first body was found almost exactly a month ago. The second was found two weeks after that. You and Aegon catch each other looking at the flier and then pretend you didn’t.

You finish stitching and give the golden retriever an encouraging pat on the head. His tail thuds rhythmically against the table. “Alright, Sunfyre is good to go. I’d like him to stay one night so I can put him on an IV just in case. And he’ll have to wear a cone until his stitches come out. Your total is $300.”

“$300?!” Aegon exclaims. “What are you gonna put in the IV, cocaine?!”

“Antibiotics,” you say. “And they had to be shipped in from Seattle.”

“Jesus Christ. Okay, Pablo Escobar, hold on, hold on…” He pulls crumpled dollar bills out of his tattered leather wallet. “I’ve got…fifteen…uh…sixteen…” He starts counting quarters.

“Jen can write you up a bill,” you offer.

“Oh, yeah. Great.” He replaces his cash with palpable relief. “I can pick him up tomorrow?”

“Anytime after noon.”

“Cool.” He plants a loud smacking kiss on the crown of Sunfyre’s head. “I’ll see you soon, buddy.” Then he lurches out into the lobby. You tell Jen to put Sunfyre in one of the kennels and bolt after him.

“You can’t drive home like this,” you tell Aegon, horrified.

He whirls. “…Why?”

“Uh, because you’re drunk?!”

He drums his palms against the front door and groans dramatically. “I’m not gonna hit anybody. There are like six people in this whole town, I live ten minutes away, what’s gonna happen?”

“You can’t drive home,” you insist.

“I’ll go super slowly.”

“Don’t make me take your keys. I’ll do it.”

He throws up his hands, exasperated. “Fine. I’ll walk.

“It’s dark, it’s 30 degrees outside, you’re not even wearing a coat. You could get lost and freeze to death. Or eaten by a bear.” Or murdered by the Ice Fisher.

“Lady, what do you want from me?!”

You grab your parka off the coatrack. “I’ll drive you.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Jen can watch Sunfyre and I’ll start his IV when I get back.”

Aegon considers this, considers you. He’s not suspicious; he’s more…how can you describe it? Caught off-guard. Out of practice. “Okay,” he says finally. “Oh. Also.” He scratches his chin, avoiding your eyes. “I think I ran over your mailbox.”

“That’s fine. My dad will fix it.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, he lives next door. He’s recently retired and always looking for new projects. You might have done him a favor, actually. Saved him from a night of Dateline and Buffy The Vampire Slayer.”

Slowly, cautiously, Aegon smiles. “Happy to help, I guess.”

Your Jeep Cherokee is brand new. It has grey upholstered seats, cupholders, a Starfleet Academy bumper sticker, and automatic windows. The license plate is blue and embossed with Alaska’s state motto: North To The Future. There’s a Sarah McLachlan tape in the cassette player. Heat blasts through the vents; Building A Mystery tumbles out of the speakers. Aegon tells you that he’s renting a place downtown near the harbor and gives you vague, generally unhelpful directions. You listen as he speaks, of course, but you study him too, as much as you dare to without being too obvious, stealing rapid-fire glimpses. He talks with his hands a lot: clasps them together, touches his face, gestures lethargically, runs his fingers through his hair. There’s a lock that keeps escaping from behind his ear to rest on his right cheek, the one with the bloodstain. You have this strange compulsion to tuck it back into place.

“Cupholders,” Aegon remarks as you pull out of the small gravel parking lot, banging his fist on them. He has a British accent, but it’s diluted somewhat, understated. “Nice.”

“Yeah. I hate to tell you this, but the Nova was a really bad idea. You’re going to be snowed in half the winter.”

“Fantastic,” he quips. “I just bought the cheapest thing I could find when I got here.”

You peek over at him. Streetlights illuminate the bruise-like shadows under his eyes, the height of his cheekbones. “Your people don’t usually stick around this late in the year. Tourist season is over.”

“I’m not a tourist,” Aegon replies with a crooked grin, and does not elaborate. And then, when your Jeep rolls to a stop outside his apartment building: “Look, I know this is super random and all, but…like…” He stalls. “Can I get you some hot chocolate or something? I happen to be an aficionado of truly exceptional hot chocolate.”

“Oh, really? Homemade?”

“Swiss Miss,” he says. “But I have a secret ingredient.”

“I’m really not interested in getting roofied this evening.”

He laughs. “The secret ingredient is not roofies. It’s French vanilla coffee creamer.”

You hesitate. The words from the flier blare in your skull like a neon sign: Beware of strangers! Help keep Juneau safe! “I really shouldn’t.”

“I’m not gonna murder you,” Aegon says with probably too much bluntness. He starts turning out all his pockets. “You can search me, I got nothing on me except my wallet and keys. I just…well…” He smirks guiltily. He is sobering up. “I feel like I made a really bad first impression.”

“You definitely did.”

“And I want to make up for that because you helped my dog and everything. And now you’re helping me. And I just don’t want you to think I’m a horrible person.”

“Are you?”

“What, a horrible person?”

“Yeah.” You’re only half-joking.

Aegon doesn’t appear to be joking at all. “I think I’ll let you figure that out for yourself.”

You should go back to work. You should definitely go back to work. You should definitely not follow this weird drunk man up to his apartment. “Okay, but I can’t stay long. And I’ll ask you to remember that Jen has your full and highly unusual name and is more than capable of telling the cops that you’re the last person I was seen alive with. So it is in your best interests not to murder me.”

“Deal,” he says, and scrambles clumsily out of the Jeep.

Aegon’s apartment isn’t even a one-bedroom; it’s a studio with a couch and tv at one end, a bed at the other end by the windows, and a practically microscopic kitchen. As he bangs around in the cabinets locating a pot and two mugs, you admire his collection of refrigerator magnets. They represent a kaleidoscope of American cities: a dolphin from San Diego, the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco, a blue crab from Baltimore, a boiled lobster from Portland, a gold nugget from Denver, a cowboy on horseback from Dallas, the Sears Tower from Chicago, a cactus from Phoenix, a pair of dice suspended in glittery pink liquid from Las Vegas, many more.

“You’ve been to all these places?” you ask, awed in spite of your explicit intention not to be.

“Yeah. I found Sunfyre in Phoenix. That was three cities ago.”

“Found him?”

“Wandering emaciated and terrified on the side of a highway.” He’s stirring the pot over a red-hot electric burner. On the counter wait two mismatched mugs: the blue one is bigger, but the green one is more opulent, gilded with tiny gold stars. “You ever been outside of Alaska?”

“I got as far as Colorado for vet school.” Not far enough, you almost add. “How long have you been here?”

“Seven weeks. No. Eight.”

“So you’re the Ice Fisher.”

He tosses back his head and cackles wildly. “You are not the first person to think it, but you are the first to ask.” His smile dies and he looks at you directly, deadly serious. “No. I’m not the Ice Fisher.”

For some reason, you believe him. “Why Juneau?”

“Because it’s really, really far from Miami.”

“What’s in Miami?”

“Beaches. Bikinis.” You stare at him, waiting for further explanation. He stares back, offering none. He returns his attention to the hot chocolate. “I’m here for the winter trolling. Chinook salmon.”

“So only six months.”

He nods. “Only six months.”

“Where are you going next?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll let Sunfyre pick. I’ll dip a bunch of travel postcards in peanut butter and see which one he eats first.”

“So you just bounce around like that? Constantly? Perpetually?”

“Yeah.”

“It never gets lonely? You don’t miss anyone? Family, friends…?” A girlfriend? A wife? Five charming white-blond children?

“No,” he says flatly. He yanks open the refrigerator and pulls out a small glass bottle with a yellow label: 99 Whipped, Whipped Cream Liqueur, 49.5% ALC/VOL. He holds it up to show you, to offer it to you.

“No, I’m good, thanks though.”

“You sure? It’s whipped cream flavored.”

“I’m majorly sure.”

He unscrews the top with his teeth and takes a swig. Then he dumps the rest in the green mug. He flicks open a cabinet, produces a jar of French vanilla coffee creamer, and scoops a generous amount of the snowy powder into both mugs. He lifts the pot of hot chocolate from the stove and empties it into the mugs like molten metal into molds. He stirs the contents: separate spoons, oddly considerate. You move to take the blue mug, but Aegon stops you.

“Not quite yet,” he says. He rummages around in the refrigerator until he finds a can of whipped cream. He tops off both mugs with a fluffy white swirl. “One last thing…” He grabs a Hershey bar from the freezer and a flat metal cheese grater from a drawer. He leans over the mugs and—with startling, painstaking, somehow vulnerable care—shears just enough chocolate off the bar to dust the whipped cream with fine dark shavings. He passes you the blue mug and grins triumphantly. “You have to freeze the chocolate or it’ll melt when you try to grate it. A girl showed me how to do that.”

“Wow. You’re literally Martha Stewart.”

He is waiting for you to take a sip. You do. The hot chocolate is, in all honestly, ridiculously good: rich, creamy, smooth. He sees this on your face. “Told you.”

“Maybe you’re not so horrible.”

“Don’t be hasty. The roofies haven’t kicked in yet.”

You stand in the kitchen together drinking hot chocolate under dull, flaxen lights; Aegon doesn’t own a table or chairs. Your gaze roams around his apartment and settles on a jade green, extremely battered electric guitar propped against the wall by his bed. “Do you play?”

He turns to look. “Oh, that? No, no way.”

“Why do you have a guitar if you don’t play guitar?”

He grins, holding his mug with both hands. Steam curls up around his face like fog, like smoke. “Makes chicks think I’m more interesting than I am.”

“And yet you told me the truth,” you say. “You are really blowing this.”

“Yeah, that sounds like me.” He slurps his hot chocolate and licks the whipped cream off his lips. There is a deep, not entirely unpleasant silence that descends over the kitchen. Still, you feel compelled to break it.

“You seem to like green a lot.”

“I guess so.”

“Why? Because it’s the color of money…or trees…or Subway…or Heineken…or…?”

“Or…” He contemplates this for a while before he decides. “Camouflage.”

The silence reappears, less comfortable this time. “I really do need to go,” you tell him. It comes out like an apology, a regret. “Jen is supposed to get off work at 5:00 and I don’t want to make her stay too late.”

He replies with an unexpected question. “You ever go to Ursa Minor?”

Ursa Minor? The little bar beside the harbor? No, never. Your best friend Heather has been trying to cajole you into going—her brother Trent is always asking about you or something—but you have yet to succumb to her peer pressure. You aren’t really a bar girl. You’re a stay up half the night comforting sad animals girl. “Yeah, totally, sometimes. Why?”

Aegon smiles, a little dazedly, a little pleased. “No reason.”

All the way back to the veterinary clinic, your brains are wrangling with Aegon: everything about him, parts you wish you didn’t care enough to notice. When you enter the lobby—along with a gale of ice-cold wind peppered with snow flurries—an incredulous Jen is waiting for you.

“You drove him home? Alone?!” She jabs an index finger at the flier on the wall, one of so many. “While that lunatic is still out there somewhere?!” The cartoonish figure in the trench coat leers at you with red eyes. They call him the Ice Fisher because of what he does with the bodies. He goes out to Dredge Lake, drills a hole in the ice just wide enough for the shoulders to fit through, shoves his victim down into the frigid water to wait there in the dark and the cold until they are brought up. He leaves blood smeared on the ice. That’s how the police found the bodies, how they’ll keep finding them.

You shrug. “He needed a ride.”

“He needs an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, that’s what he needs.”

You sigh loudly. “Thank you for your sage advice, Jennifer. You are free to go.”

“Yeah yeah. I’ll give the cops his name when you go missing. Tell them to look for the drunk white-haired loser with the Nova.”

More forcefully, you repeat: “Thank you, Jennifer.”

“Take a chill pill, I’m going.” She pulls on her parka and disappears out into the night. You stand in the lobby—in the silence, in the solitude—staring at the flier for a long time.

In one of the kennels, you find your lone current tenant. “Hey buddy,” you say to Sunfyre, using Aegon’s nickname for him, and the golden retriever perks up. You pet his silky fur (well cared for, you observe), ensure he has enough food and water, get him an extra blanket, and start an IV: antibiotics with a light sedative so he hopefully doesn’t manage to wriggle out of his cone. You’ll set a few alarms and get up throughout the night to check on Sunfyre…although your dad will almost certainly volunteer to do it for you. This clinic used to be his, after all.

Before you leave, you spend fifteen minutes sitting with Sunfyre: brushing his fur, humming to him, letting him lick your knuckles like wordless little thank you notes. Not for the first time in your life, you find yourself wishing that animals could speak as well as we do, could spill secrets like blood or falling snow.

“Interesting human you’ve got there,” you say.

Sunfyre, peering up at you with his trusting umber eyes, only wags his tail in reply.

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