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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 30] || [Chapter 32]

Pairing: Soap x gn!Reader || Gaz x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ cw: love confessions. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Another cute one for the books, y'all.

Chapter 31: Uh-Oh.

Gaz came home early.

Some stuff in his mission that was, according to John 'above his paygrade'.

He wasn't particularly happy about it, mentioned to Johnny over the phone how it was 'bullshit', that it wasn't fair he didn't get to know.

Not that you'd know. Johnny knew. But you sure as hell didn't.

Because, as usual, you got home from work on Tuesday, and there was a wild Kyle Garrick in your apartment, sat shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee with Johnny on the sofa.

"Hi?" You greeted once you passed the door, carrying a couple bags of goods from the shop.

"Hi, bonnie!" Johnny greeted. "Look who's here!" He gestured at Kyle with grandeur.

"Hi, love!" Kyle greeted, all smiley and beautiful as only he can be.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt again? Dear God, tell me you didn't get hurt!" You began to say immediately, as he got up from the couch, rounding it to come greet you.

"You should've warned me you'd come, I would've bought more things to make dinner, now I'm not gonna have enough for you and-" You ranted.

He shut you up, however, by cradling your face in his hands and dropping a kiss onto your lips, causing you to hum and soften, your eyes closing.

It was a slow kiss, one that told you just how much he missed you, his thumbs caressing your cheeks on either side, his nose brushing your cheek as his warm lips and wet tongue carefully probed at your mouth.

When he pulled back, he smiled at you. "It's alright. I'm alright. Don't worry so much." He murmured, then, his hands slid down and grabbed one of the bags off you, helping you take the shopping to the kitchen.

Having a second man to play house with was somehow better and worse.

There was also less space. Another part of your closet or your drawers full of male clothes, extra counter space in the bathroom taken up by his skincare and cologne, extra bath products in the shower.

There were more snacks in your pantry, protein bars and shakes and the like, energy drinks, another seat at the dinner table taken up by another laptop and notebook and pen, another set of shoes to trip on at the entrance.

The flat was still always clean, and there was always someone to greet you once you got home, sometimes dinner would already be ready.

There was always someone to cuddle to or be cuddled by, someone rutting into you and stealing greedy kisses and groping handfuls of your body...

Nothing to complain about, not really.

On Saturday, you crawled away from Johnny's embrace, padding around the flat, seeking food and a drink.

Kyle was in the kitchen when you came in, shirtless as usual, one of your bath towels falling off his hip, his skin glistening. You've noticed you tend to find Kyle right out of the shower often.

"Morning, lovie..." He greeted you as you approached, kissing your forehead and wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Hi..." You murmured and leaned into him, setting your chin right on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the dampness of his skin, and smelling the scent of his body wash and shampoo. Coconut.

"How are you feeling?" He murmured as he glanced at you, brown eyes twinkling to the sight of what was, indubitably messy hair and a sleepy face.

Your body was deliciously sore, your jaw too, though that one was more uncomfortable. A consequence of a night well spent, pressed between the two of them... They were younger than John and Simon, had more stamina... they were more insatiable.

"Good..." You ended up saying with a chuckle, which earned you a smirk too.

"Good enough to wanna go out with me?" He asked you with a cocked brow.

"Out where?" You asked him, eyebrows raising in intrigue.

"I have plans for the two of us this afternoon... as long as you're not too tired for them." He explained.

"Not going to make me do something physical, are you?" You quipped, causing him to chuckle, your jaw trembling from the contact between his pec and you head.

"No... Not after last night. Need a chill day myself." He winked at you.

As it turns out, Johnny isn't the only artist in your little polycule. (Can you even call it that?)

At 2 P.M., you found yourself in a little pottery studio-café thing that Kyle had, apparently, scouted out in Birmingham, one of the times he went home.

It was not something you expected, finding yourself walking in hand in hand with him, fingers interlaced, being given a smock and being given a lump of clay, a wheel, and having a very eccentric but adorable lady guide you through the steps of making small pinch pots, and your final piece, a mug.

After over an hour of that, you were allowed to wash your hands off, your projects (a very wonky mug made by you, and a surprisingly good mug made by Kyle) going to be put in the kiln, with a promise from the pottery instructor that they'll come out in the next day or so and that everyone could come back to get them, if they so wished.

Then, you and Kyled moved to a little table in the painting station where you could grab a finished piece of your own, a standard one, that is, and paint it to your heart's content.

You sat beside Kyle after he went and got you both drinks and a little snack each, each one of you busy painting your little projects. You picked a small plate and Kyle picked a mug, just like the ones you had been trying (and failing, mind you) to throw beforehand.

You glanced over at Kyle who was extremely focused on what he was doing, using the tiniest brush you've ever seen to dot small petals on the flower design he had chosen for his mug.

"That looks really cute... Is that cherry blossom?" You asked as you set your chin on his arm, his left one, not the one he was using to paint.

"Mhm... My attempt at it, anyway." He replied as he glanced over at your plate. "Polka dots?" He asks with a playful smile on his lips, which causes you to shrug.

"I didn't know what I wanted to paint. Flowers are overdone... No offense-" You chuckled.

"None taken." He replied and winked at you before leaning over and grabbing his paper cup, sipping his tea through the opening on the lid.

"And everything else would be too difficult. I'm in the mood to just draw little dots all over." You remarked with another shrug.

"Well, I like your dots." He told you and, very slowly, tapped the tip of your nose with his forefinger.

You felt something wet and sticky on the tip of your nose and you knew, immediately, that he had just painted your nose. You didn't even notice him dipping his finger in his paint palette beforehand.

You grabbed your phone and used the locked screen as a mirror to spot the bright pink dot of paint on your skin.

Turning to your boyfriend, you squinted at him. "Kyle Garrick, do you want to start a war you will not win?" You murmured as you pointed your paintbrush at him like a teacher with a ruler.

"No, no, never." Kyle murmured, raising his hands in surrender, though he had the biggest grin on his lips, and a shine in his brown eyes.

"That's what I thought." You added before you turned away to resume your painting.

Kyle snickered next to you, resuming his own painting, slowly painting the front of his mug, while holding it from the back with the greatest care in the world.

Unfortunately for him, he was too focused to catch the way you dipped your thumb in your own paint pallette, gathering your brightest red... And then dabbing it on his cheek twice, forming a heart shape.

Kyle turned to you with wide eyes, catching the same shit-eating grin in your lips, your teeth showing, before you started giggling. "Uh-oh..." You said, not at all ashamed of the revenge you just got on him.

Kyle shook his head at you, a smile on his own lips, before he leaned over, caught your face by the chin, and dropped a kiss on your lips. You melted into it, eyes closing and smiling against his mouth.

And, when he pulled away, he looked you in the eyes with the fondest look in his eyes, his head dipped at an angle before he whispered a: "God, I love you... What am I going to do with you?"

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

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@thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #gaz x reader

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sttoru · 4 months

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 '𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒, CHAPTER I: you finish your last lecture of the day and head to get dinner before returning to your dormitories. you stumble upon an injured figure on your way home, laying in a dimly lit alley. despite the fear in your heart, you decide to reach out towards the unknown man in need of help.

wc. 3.7k

tags. assassin!toji x female reader. sfw; fluff-ish, angst. reader's best friend oc appearance (yona). mentions of murder, blood, knives, anxiety. general warnings for all parts of the series: size difference. age gap (reader early 20's, toji early 30's).

ten seconds. you shut down your laptop and close it. nine seconds. you put your laptop in your tote bag. eight seconds. you close your books and do the same. seven seconds. you put your coat on. six seconds. you check your phone for any messages.

five seconds. you’re thinking about what to eat once you arrive home. four seconds. you decide on a pack of noodles. three seconds. you realise that you’ve ran out of them. two seconds. you make up your mind to go to your local supermarket. one second. you stand up from your seat.

“..that’s all, students. have a nice day and i’ll see you at our next lecture.”

a sigh of relief escapes your lips. you’re finally freed from the shackles of your statistics class. not like you’ve paid much attention to what your professor had been yapping about anyway. it was too boring. the daydreaming you did about your potential future boyfriend and all the cheesy romantic stuff you’d do together was all the more important.

“earth to my best friend,” your friend’s voice snaps you back into reality. you look to your side and find yourself apologising for not hearing her the first time. yona chuckles and waves her hand dismissively.

“i asked if you had any plans after the lecture,” she continues whilst scrolling through her phone. you take a peek at her screen and notice that she’s already looking up available restaurants in the area.

you’re grateful that she’s looking out for you in her own way, but you’ve already made up your mind. a pack of your favorite ramen noodles will fill you for tonight. you’re low on cash this month anyway. a fancy restaurant would have you surviving on water for the rest of the week.

“ah, i actually do. gotta go grocery shopping ‘n stuff,” you pout apologetically before buttoning up your coat. yona nods in understanding, knowing the struggles of being a college student.

“aww, all right. we’ll go next time then,” she replies with a smile.

you walk out of the building with your friend by your side, chatting about how boring the lecture was. of course, you also learn all about the recent gossip around campus. yona is practically your plug for that.

“did you hear about that one girl that allowed her boyfriend to stay with her in her dorm room for a whole month and then got snitched on by her roommate?” yona snickers, not caring if anyone around you could hear the gossip.

you raise an eyebrow in surprise. your university has strict rules about guests staying over in the dormitories. they can spend a day or two, but you’d have to sign them in. plus the resident assistants usually check the rooms for any unusual activity every other week.

to hear someone had gotten away for a whole month is quite a surprise.

“he could’ve stayed for longer if it wasn’t for the roommate snitching,” yona continues and rolls her eyes. she takes a quick snack from her bag and bites into it.

you shake your head and shrug, making sure you don’t trip and fall down the stairs whilst you’re talking, “guess the roommate got enough of the random man in their room. i mean—they pay for that room as well. not like the girl is the only one living there.”

yona nods and turns a right. you follow, your eyes scanning the busy hallways. some students are rushing between the crowd to catch their train and others are making their way to their next two hour lecture. those poor souls.

“mhm. i wouldn’t wanna live with a man i don’t know either,” yona eventually adds after swallowing the last bite of her snack, “let alone for a whole month.”

she throws the wrapper in a nearby garbage can—which is overly full already. talk about a ‘hygienic’ school.

“right,” you shiver as the thought gets put into your head. a random man living with you. . . sounds like a nightmare. you’ve heard enough stories about how dirty they can be. in both the physical and mental aspects.

after some walking - and getting annoyed by random people who block your way due to how slow they’re moving - you reach the exit of the building. yona stretches her arms and grabs her phone before turning to you.

“anyway, see you later, hun!” she enthusiastically gives you a hug. you return the affectionate gesture with a gentle smile, rubbing her back. you exchange your last words before both going your own ways.

music plays in your ears as you walk down the street. the wind blows against your face. it’s a cold day. you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to rain in a bit.

‘gotta be fast’, you think. you are not carrying an umbrella with you, so you’d have to hurry back with your groceries. your legs pick up their pace and pass all traffic as fast as they can.

it takes you quite a while to get to your destination. that’s the drawback of living in such a packed city like tokyo. there is no way to move, especially in the evening, when everyone is returning home.

you reach a crosswalk and wait for the light to turn blue. whilst you’re waiting next to a bunch of people, your eyes wander across the scenery. from the huge billboards to your right to the multiple cars to your left.

your gaze stops at one specific billboard. it’s playing some of the latest news. a recent incident had taken place just a few kilometres north from your university. three people had been found cruelly murdered in their apartments.

the definite cause of their deaths is still unknown. there wasn’t any sign of a forced entry, even when reports say that all three victims had been killed in the same way.

they speculate that the person involved must have been quite skilled—someone who’s done this multiple times before. there are absolutely zero traces of them left neither. the only reason they’re able to conclude that it is indeed a homicide, are the similar wounds left on the victims’ bodies.

another comment from the investigation team shows that there might be a survivor who’s escaped the cold blooded killer. that person is now considered missing.

the police are still thoroughly investigating the matter; that’s all you get to know before the news reporter moves on to the next subject.

you look down at your shoes. such scary stuff does make you afraid. you’re living on your own after all. you’d be less scared if you had a roommate, but you currently don’t.

some call you lucky for that since it’s a rare occurrence, yet you still wish you had someone living with you. that would make walking back home at night less stressful.

the increase of footsteps around you makes you realise that the light turned blue—a sign for you to cross the street. you eventually reach the other side. you tilt your head back, anxiously staring at the sky.

‘please don’t, please don’t, please don’t,’ you chant in your head. like the weather is going to listen to your desperate pleas. you rush inside of the supermarket.

you’ve been here often enough to know which products are in what aisle. you scurry over to the ramen, grabbing two packs. you get a few snacks along the way. unhealthy crap, that’s what you’re surviving on.

you stand in line at the cashier. you tap your shoe and bite your lip, your gaze fixated on the sky outside. you beg god to give you just a few more minutes. a few more minutes of drought.

you check your phone and go through your recent notifications to kill time. you swipe left on almost all of them—none being time sensitive or urgent anyway.

you greet the cashier politely once it’s your turn and allow him to scan your products for you. you await for him to announce your total before handing him your debit card. your eyes flicker over to the television hanging right behind the cashier’s head.

that gruesome news again. twice in a row. you shiver and try not to think about it. your mind is already overthinking the entire thing; what if you’re next?

well, that should be the least of your worries. you grab the plastic bag and walk to the exit of the supermarket, taking a deep breath. what you actually should be worried about is getting home dry.

“just my luck,” you mutter under your breath. your prayers are left unanswered as the first few drops of rain fall on your head. you kiss your teeth in annoyance.

you can’t help but silently agree as a couple walks past you, complaining about the sudden change of weather. you watch as a few more people rush past you with their bags above their head.

looking at the bright side of things, you won’t be the only one who’s running home with a bag as a shield against the rain and wind.

you take a deep breath again and mentally prepare yourself for the quick journey you’re going to make. you look to the left and then the right. when the coast is clear, you dash into the direction of your dormitory.

the rain is not letting up. you rush past a few people, those carrying umbrellas walking the slowest of them all. ‘damn them’, you think, ‘they have it the easiest right now.’

you turn a corner and nearly bump into a woman. you politely apologise before continuing your little run home. damp droplets run down your forehead. the rain is already starting to block your vision.

you tightly hug your tote bag to your chest with one arm. the last thing you want is for your laptop to get water damage. you’ve wasted tons of money on that thing to help you get through college.

you look down at the plastic bag with your food. that’ll survive. at least you think it will.

you squint. the rain is only getting worse and thus your blurry vision will as well. you try blinking the water away, but end up making it worse for yourself.

great.

your shoes are going through it. the deep puddles you’ve run through leave the material moist and you can already feel the droplets seep into your socks.

greaaat.

you turn a left. this narrow street is one you hate to be near when it’s dark. it’s a fast shortcut, but also a scary one since it’s isolated from the bustling main streets.

you think back to the cruel news you’ve heard earlier. scary images flash through your mind. your heart races a thousand miles per hour. you once again make up a doom scenario that could possibly happen.

what if the killer on the run is going after you next?

it doesn’t make sense, logically, but everything is possible now that your anxiety has overtaken your rational thoughts. you have no connections to those victims and yet you think you’re next.

you are next.

you whimper out of fear. it feels like the walls of this narrow street are closing up on you the faster you run. you look over your shoulder, excepting someone to be there—following you.

no one is there. you turn your head again and run as fast as you can. if only you had someone with you. someone who’d console you and tell you that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

that’s the worst thing about the entire situation: nobody seems to pass by this backstreet. the only things that could possibly give you any sense of comfort are the random boxes and trash laying around.

time seems to slow down once you see the end of the backstreet. there’d actually be people once you make it through. you gulp and give yourself the motivation to get over there without scaring yourself any further.

the shadows looming over you due to the lack of lightning in this alleyway creep you out. the entire atmosphere is eerie—like something or someone can jump out of those shadows and grab you by the ankles. drag you into the darkness and finish you off there.

you want to return to those vibrant lights you know so bad. you do.

your eyes are so intensely focused on the end of the streets to the point that you forget your surroundings. it’s already too late to realise that you’re tripping over something. you process that you’ve lost your balance when you’re already mid-fall.

your body lands on the wet ground with a loud thud. luckily enough, your hands touched the concrete first, softening the fall for your head. you grunt and groan; it still hurt.

your ears pick up on the sound of running water. your head lays right next to a broken pipe that’s leaking water onto the pavement. cold droplets fall in a rushed rhythm.

“ah, fuck.”

your eyes widen. the sound of a man behind you sends a shiver down your spine. is that why you tripped? did he make you trip?

‘i’m so done,’ you conclude quietly. it’s probably the killer you’ve heard about—the one who’s coming for you next. just like you had thought.

you shut your eyes tightly, awaiting the strike that would finish you. like the wounds that had finished the other victims. though, it never comes. the stabbing doesn’t happen.

the only thing you can pick up on is heavy breathing. low grunts, barely audible. the sound of cloth ripping. a man mumbling under his breath.

you sit up on your knees and look over your shoulder. slowly, little by little.

the revealed sight is like a dream. or a nightmare. you don’t know which it is. perhaps a mixture of both.

all you know is that this is the last thing you expected to see. the last thing you expected to experience today. you feel your heart drop and you freeze in place.

you’ve seen your own fair share of blood, but this is simply too much. it’s like time has stopped for you. like time has stopped inside of this backstreet.

the world outside of this alleyway continues moving. the people keep walking, chatting and living their lives. the rain keeps falling. as if nothing is occurring at the moment.

as if there is no bloodied man on the dirty ground, leaning against the wall, with crimson stained hands clutching his abdomen. his wet bangs cover his eyes which makes his identity even more mysterious.

you probably tripped over his leg that’s stretched out in front of him; also bloody. you feel bad for not noticing him earlier. your own selfish desires to get out of this alley caused you to overlook a person in need of urgent aid.

you don’t think twice before reaching out towards him. it’s like your body moves on its own command—not waiting for your brain to figure out what to do.

“oh my god,” you’re shaking badly, but your body crawls closer to the injured figure. you don’t think twice. something you have always taught yourself to do before diving into unfamiliar situations.

not right now, however. you don’t hesitate to check up on the stranger. if you didn’t see his chest moving with each shaky breath, you’d have concluded that he’s dead.

“s-sir?” you panic. what do you do? you’ve never landed in such a predicament before. you look to your left and then to your right. no one to help you nor the bloodied man.

he doesn’t reply to your voice. that further worsens your anxiety. your eyes wander down towards the man’s abdomen. the wound was deep and painful, that much you can tell from the way he’s holding tightly onto it.

a bullet wound? you’re not sure.

right—the piece of cloth he’s keeping against the wound. that’s what you do to try and stop the bleeding. the warm red liquid stains the man’s baggy pants. his black shirt is nearly ripped to shreds, the material hanging on by a thread. literally.

“uhm, uh,” you look around and spot your bag on the floor. in a puddle. you pray that your laptop has made it. you don’t recall having anything with you that could help treat wounds.

you gulp and hastily take off your scarf. you carefully kneel in front of the half-conscious man. his head is held low. you don’t know if he can even hear you.

you reach your hand out towards him, aiming for his own bloody hands that hold onto his abdomen. you cringe due to the sight, but try your best to be of assistance.

the man hisses the moment you touch the his hand. your fingers stop mid-air, not wanting to touch him if he didn’t want to.

what am i thinking?

now is not the time for that. he’s bleeding out and you have this urge to get him to safety as soon as possible. even if you’re internally panicking because of the huge responsibility that fate has suddenly assigned you.

“i’ll call an ambulance. please hold on,” you try to be reassuring, however your choked up voice betrays your true feelings. you change the old cloth with your scarf, pressing it tightly against his injury.

you fish out your phone from your pocket using your other hand. the rain makes it hard to do anything. your screen is wet, your vision blurry. you type in the first number of the emergency services.

suddenly, a bigger hand swats yours, causing your phone to go flying to the other side of the street. you watch with wide eyes as your cellphone comes to a stop right next to a big puddle of rain.

you whip your head to the direction of the injured figure in front of you. the man tries to lifts his head, slowly, so he could look you in the eye. your heart stammers in your chest.

“sir, you’re bleeding out, you need to—“

“i don’t need anythin’.”

you don’t dare to move nor let out a single breath. you can feel the tip of a sharp blade rest under your chin—nearly penetrating the flesh. one wrong move and you will lose your life.

the man had moved too fast for you to even process. you don’t know how you even ended like this. with a bloody knife to your throat and an unknown man’s face right up against yours.

“leave,” the stranger demands. you know he’s not to be messed with, even in his weakened state, “i don’t need y’r help.”

his voice sounds rough. deep and raspy. it shakes you to your core—makes you listen to what he has to say. it’s hypnotising. a gust of wind blows over the both of you.

his bangs move and your gaze finally meets his. the background noises fade for a split second. your entire focus is on those beautiful emerald orbs staring into your own eyes. they’re gorgeous.

they're gorgeous; even if they lack that sparkle of life. his eyes tell stories—the rough journeys this man probably had to endure throughout the years. you’ve never seen such a sight. it tugs at your heartstring and urges you to help him.

you don’t know where these feelings came from, but amidst your anxiety, there’s an underlying desire to take care of him.

you shake your head, showing your unexpected defiance. you’re playing with fire. you know that all too well and yet you don’t care.

“no. i won’t leave,” your breath hitches. you notice the dangerous glint in the man’s eyes. he looks like he’s going to lose consciousness any second now. though his grip on the knife tells another story, “i won’t leave you alone. not like this.”

the injured stranger grunts in annoyance, but also in pain. your persistence makes him want to shove you to the side. to leave this place already and find a way out on his own. he doesn’t want your help.

he may actually need it, but he does not want to accept it.

despite those thoughts, he’s too weak. way too weak. he doesn’t like being weak. feeling weak is not his thing. vulnerability doesn’t suit him.

“you have a fuckin’ death wish,” the man scoffs. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto consciousness, but that is the last thing he cares about. he wants you gone. out of sight.

you stay in place. even through his chilling death threats. you can feel the blade start to invade the first layer of your skin. it hurts already. normally, you would’ve run. you want to. your mind tells you to get the hell out, but your heart and body yells at you to stay.

“i’ll give ya three seconds,” the stranger continues. he’s close. so close that you can feel his hot breath against your freezing cheeks. it’s intimidating, however not enough to scare you away.

the tighter your grip on the scarf against his abdomen, the tighter his grip on the handle of the knife. time will tell who’ll win this battle.

“three.”

the countdown starts. you swallow your own spit. the rain has you completely drenched. you catch a glimpse of the puddle underneath you both. the colour of it a light red as the man’s blood flows and mixes with the clear water.

“two.”

his voice is quieter than before. he’s losing his strength, but is stubborn enough to firmly keep the knife below your chin. you’re sure that your own blood is already trickling down the shiny metal.

the man’s lips part to announce the last number. your last chance. your final opportunity to escape and act like you have never seen him. you can go back to your normal life—continue living in your own world. the one you are familiar with.

one without this unknown man. this man with an aura of a cold hearted killer.

you fingers curl tightly against the scarf pressed against his wound. you refuse to let up. even if it means your own death. your eyes close—cold damp droplets roll down your cheeks. you don’t know if they’re your tears or if it’s just the pouring rain.

you hear a low, frustrated groan. he sounds so close yet so far from you. you can feel the man’s arm move to adjust his grip. probably to try and flawlessly puncture your jaw.

if only you accepted to eat out with your friend. if only you turned around and went back to your dorm the moment you knew it was going to rain. if only you didn’t take this shortcut today.

if only your fates hadn’t clashed.

“one.”

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #jjk x y/n #toji x you #please give it lots of love 🙇🏽‍♀️

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Follow You Anywhere 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting 'part 2?' is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You sit at the dining table with your laptop, hiding behind the screen as you try to figure out what to do. How do you get this man to leave? Better, how do you do that without making him angry?

You stare at the unfinished project in front of you. You're not going to get paid for blurry pixels. Work is the least of your worries.

You peek over the top of the laptop and blanch as the subtle movement catches his eye. He grins and sits up, “need something, sweetie?”

“Uh, nope,” you put your eyes down and the screen goes fuzzy.

“Hm,” he hums into a grunt and heaves himself up, “you haven’t made any videos yet. What about your shopping trip huh? You gonna edit some of that.”

“Erm, maybe later, I have work stuff–”

“You know,” he nears and stands across the round table, looming menacingly with his hands on his hips, “you could probably quit all that if you committed to your streams. Lotsa people wanna watch a sweet girl like you.”

“That’s nice but I don’t even have ten followers,” you chuckle.

“Mm, maybe, but… I could help you,” he offers.

“Really, it’s fine,” your voice trembles, “it’s… it’s just a way to get my thoughts out, that's all.”

He clucks and clears his throat, looking around, “well, I guess I’ll go get my stuff.”

“Um, sure,” you look at him again then peek at the keys hung by the door.

He whistles, “Aika, come, you probably needa go.”

The dog rises from beside the couch and follows him to the door. You get up, heart flipping. You need to just lock the door. As long as he doesn’t–

He grabs the keys and shoves them deep in his pocket. He hooks the leash onto Aika’s collar as she stands obediently before him. He grins over at you, “don’t worry, sweetie, won’t be long at all.”

He turns and unlocks the door, swinging it inward as he lets the German shepherd lead the way. You deflate and fall back onto the chair. Holy shoot! What are you going to do? Nothing you can think of makes sense. He doesn’t make sense. It’s as if he really believes you know each other. That this is his home.

You bend over your lap and hold your head, rocking as you let out a drone. The panic is so bad you can’t hold it in. The noise escaping you is inhuman. You know you’re too weak, too afraid to do anything. So what? You’ll just let him take over your home?

You quiet and stay as you are, hunched over your legs. Are you going to let him do whatever he wants? To you?

Your blood runs cold and you sit up slowly. You’re dizzy as the silence rings in your ears. You stare across the room, only able to see a glimpse of the door frame.

You don’t know what you’re going to do.

You’re paralysed. You hardly believe it yourself, you don’t think anyone else will either. The thought of explaining it is embarrassing on its own.

You’re being stupid. You need to tell someone. Anyone.

You hear him before he enters. He opens the door, pausing as he lets Aika off the leash. She sniffs around as the door shuts heavily.

Sy appears, a large bag of kibble balanced on one shoulder as he carries a military duffle in his other hand. He drops the latter and brings the former into the kitchen. You stand, hollow as you make yourself move. You go to the doorway to the kitchen and watch him search your cupboards.

“Ladybird needs a bowl,” he says, “she’s hungry.”

“Oh,” you utter dumbly and blink. You’re stuck where you are.

His cheek dimples and he returns his attention to his search. He takes out the pink plastic bowl you use for salad and he uses a measuring cup to scoop out the kibble. You just watch as he puts it on the floor for Aika as she sits patiently.

He stands and she does too, eagerly scarfing down the food, flicking slobber all over your salad bowl. Sy faces you and you flinch as he comes near, reaching for you. You back away.

“Sweetie?” He says, “what’re you doing?”

“I… I…” you rub your arm, “how long are you planning on… staying?”

He scoffs, “what? Ah, come on, sweetie, you’re funny. “

“I’m… I’m serious,” you quaver, “I didn’t… we just met.”

His face falls and so does your heart. His expression turns dire and he crosses his arms. Aika seems to notice his shift and quits her loud chomping. She raises her nose, letting out a low growl. You gulp. He has that same glint in his eye as in the truck when he nearly rear-ended that other driver.

“Sweetie, I told you, I've been watching you all this time. You know, I was your first follower,” he takes a step closer and you take one back. “I know you.”

“Right, uh,” you push your hands together and bend your fingers back, “I understand, it’s just…” you can hardly breathe, “I guess I misunderstood. Of course you can stay, but… you know, I only bought enough groceries for me and… and it’s a small place.”

He considers you. He runs his hand over his beard and exhales loudly. He drops his other arm and tilts his head side to side, cracking the bones, “so we can get nice and snuggly, sweetheart.”

He nears you again, quickly, before you can elude him. He catches you around the back of the head and urges you close. He leans in and kisses your hairline. You freeze and let him. He purrs before he draws away.

“Right, I’ll get cleaned up,” he lets you go, “you can finish your work or… get cozy.”

You nod and stare past him. Aika once more chews loudly as your eyes settle on her straight back. You’re trapped. Your home is now a prison.

You stay like that until you hear the pipes whine and the shower buzzes to life. You glance over, the bathroom door slightly ajar. Mortified, you retreat to the table and sit behind the computer. You know the excuse won’t hold up much longer but you can at least pretend to be busy.

Aika’s claws tap on the tile as you hear her lay near the door. You can’t even run. His loyal guard dog isn’t just keeping people out, she’s keeping you in.

You put your hands on the laptop as you hear the faucet crank off. The scented steam seeps out and dampens the air with the scent of your strawberries and cream soap. You shudder and minimize and maximize the window.

You listen to him. He opens and closes the cabinet several times as he lingers in the bathroom. The door opens and your ears tinge as you focus on the laptop. He steps out as you swirl your fingers on the touch pad.

“I feel better,” he sighs, “how about you, sweetie? Maybe you should have a nice long bath?”

“I’m good,” you utter dully.

“Hope you don’t mind, I used your hairbrush,” he crosses the room.

“No, it’s f–” your eyes flick up on instinct. You swallow as your eyes round. He has only a towel around his waist, the rest of him brazenly bare. “Fine.”

You rip your gaze away and accidentally exit out of the editing software. You try to wipe the image of him from your mind. His thick muscles, the dark hair across his chest and stomach, and over his thick thighs. There’s little left to the imagination or doubt. The sight of him confirms his unbeatable strength.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“N-nothing,” you insist.

“You’re being all shy. What’s going on, huh?” You shake your head as he comes around the table. He presses the laptop shut until you retract your hands. You sit back and look at your hands. “You’ve been working long enough. Come on, sweetie.”

“I… I have a project to finish–”

“And that’s more important? How long have I waited to be with you? Over there in the sh– in the chaos?” He says, offering his large hand, “I got you something. I wanna show it to you.”

“I…” you rasp and peer up at his face, too afraid to look anywhere else. “Okay.”

You give in. Your surrender. He’s a soldier and he’s won the battle. You take his hand and stand up.

He takes you into the front room and leads you to the couch. He stops you in front of it and gestures you to wait. You do and he disappears around the other side of you.

He returns with his duffle bag and puts it in the chair. He keeps his back to you as he unzips it. You peek up and your eyes cling to the scars along his burly back. Just beneath his shoulder and another along his side. Through the fear, you feel a pang of sympathy for him. He must have been through a lot.

“I bought you something,” he says, “when I was driving up.”

He turns and shows you a dainty piece of fabric hanging from his index fingers. You gape at the pale pink bodysuit; flowers in a darker shade trim the corset and the tops of the cups are subtly scalloped. You love the colours but you would never dare to wear anything like that.

“Uh, wow,” is all you can get out.

“Just you know for a special occasion,” he smiles, “it’ll look real nice on you. It’s your colour.” He steps closer as he holds it out to you, “I showed the lady your picture and she said it would be nice on your skin tone.”

You feel like you’re going to faint. Is he really giving you a piece of lingerie? You take it and examine the thin material.

“Obviously, not tonight since we’re settling in and all that,” he chuckles, “but you know… if you wanted to…”

“I’m… I’m going to put this away,” you croak.

You move past him, slowly as if wading through water. You go to the bedroom and cross to the dresser. You stand before it as you stare at the fabric. Your chest aches as you hold a breath inside.

“Ah, still pretty tidy in here,” Sy comments from behind you.

You pull open the top drawer and hide the bodysuit. A shiver rolls through you as you shut it and turn to the intruder. You watch helplessly as he invades every inch of your life.

“You did such a good job, sweetie,” he praises as he nears the bed and plops his bag on it, “watching you clean… it’s admirable how determined you are.”

He reaches in his bag and takes out a stack of folded clothing. You blink as he strides over to the dresser and pulls open a drawer. You sway as you resist the urge to ask what the heck he’s doing. He makes room beside your clothes and shoves his inside.

As he stands, he adjusts the towel hanging lower on his waist than before. You turn away. As much as you don’t like him touching all your things, his nakedness is even more off putting. Most disturbing is his lack of self-awareness. Frankly, it’s frightening.

He unpacks, bit by bit, and rolls open the closet to put his empty bag inside. He goes back to the dresser to shut the top drawer he left open but his hand curls around the top. He dips inside and lifts out a pair of your panties; the ones speckled with printed on bows.

“I like these,” he says, “they’re cute, like you.”

“Thanks, I…” you murmur. “I…” Your mouth is dry and chalky, “I need some water.”

“Aw, sweetie, you look faint,” he drops the panties and approaches you. “Why don’t you sit down?”

He urges you onto the edge of the bed, his hands on your shoulders. He looks down on you as you tilt your head to peer back at him. He looks so big. He keeps his hands on you, gripping tighter, and for a moment, you’re not sure what he’s going to do and you think he is even less certain.

He pulls his hands away and shakes them out, “I’ll get you some water,” he says, “you had a long day, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum and lower your chin, your hands shaking in your lap.

You did this. You welcomed this man in. More than letting him drive you home or cross the threshold of your apartment, you put yourself online, exposed yourself to the public. You heard the horror stories before, the true ones, but you just never thought it would happen to you.

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sandcastle #follow you anywhere

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 21 days

Note

Hey covey so I had a idea that been in my head in a while so imagine this Percy x Neptune reader (platonic of course) going to a water park

Imagine all the chaos they’ll creat

Any way take your time and write it how you like

Ps take care of yourself 🤍

✮⋆˙ wanna play mermaids with me? - platonic! percy jackson x daughter of neptune! reader blurb

𝜗𝜚 content…platonic! percy jackson x daughter of neptune! reader blurb 𝜗𝜚 warning…none! 𝜗𝜚 letters from the author…silly little water siblings.

────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

it only takes six words to doom the world. or, at least, middle class families trying to find a way to beat the heat.

"wanna go to the waterpark?"

sending two children of a sea god to a waterpark is like placing a colchis bull in a china shop. it's only gonna end one way - messy.

to ensure a fun trip for them (and legit no one else) they both shook on the fact that they would treat this like a comedy skit. a sibling couldn't pass up on a dare all in the name of the bit.

it started out as harmless pranks, truly! water bottles bursting, er, from 'the heat.' wake pool seemingly knocking that creepy guy into the water without reason. one of those timed waterfalls just happening to dump on someone woman screaming to get a discount for gods know what.

but, as the day went on, the pranks got more extravagant. like, for example, see who can panic the lifeguards the most without them blowing the whistle. who's willing to belly flop into the water from the highest diver board (that one earned you an additional ten bucks from percy). how many people can you attack with one water fountain, stuff like that.

eventually, you two started getting glares from the staff, which lead to the two of you slinking off and away from the pools.

"hey, wanna get some ice cream? it's on me," you offered, holding up the ten dollar bill that had previously been his with a cheeky smirk. percy simply rolled his eyes but marched straight to the snack stand.

"you know? i had a lot of fun today," you told percy in between licks of your ice cream, glancing over at him. he smiled softly before bumping his shoulder with yours.

"me too. best waterpark buddy a guy could ask for."

"better than grover and annabeth?" you pushed with that mischievous look that only children of a sea god have mastered.

"don't get ahead of yourself, kiddo."

"hey, at least this one isn't the make out spot of cheating gods!"

"touché."

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson fandom #perseus jackson #perseus jackson x reader #pjo hoo toa #toa #heroes of olympus #perseus jackson fanfic

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echoingalaxies · 3 months

Text

cw: hospital/medical stuff mentions, unspecified illness or injury

“You wanna pick up some food on the way?” Caretaker asked, steering her car out of the parking garage and to the intersection.

Whumpee, sitting under a blanket on the passenger seat, watched the hospital disappear as they drove away on the mostly empty highway. He rubbed the pit of his elbow where a small bandage remained to stop the slight bleeding from a cannula.

It had been a long day. New bottles of medicine rattled in the pockets of his jacket when he shifted into a more comfortable position and leaned their head against the headrest. They had sat in the waiting room the whole evening before finally being admitted, and discharged only a couple of hours after. Caretaker hadn’t even tried to argue with the staff anymore. It always ended like this. Not enough beds and not enough people to take care of the ones lying on them.

Whumpee knew he was lucky. He knew he’d be safe going home with Caretaker. But it didn’t mean he didn’t keep dreaming about the day he’d be taken seriously. He’d receive proper care. Otherwise he’d just have to keep going back, over and over again. More pills, more bills, more wasted hours.

“Hello?”

“Oh, uh,” Whumpee blinked, realizing he hadn’t actually given Caretaker a response. “No, I… we should just head home. You’ve got work in the morning, and it’s already way past midnight.”

His stomach let out a loud rumbling sound just then, and Caretaker gave him a quiet look, which Whumpee pretended to not see. He could fix himself a bowl of yogurt at home. Caretaker needed sleep. She deserved it, after putting aside her own responsibilities just to stay with him again.

“What if I told you I already took tomorrow off?”

"What?" Whumpee turned to her, shaking his head. “Caretaker, no. You shouldn’t have.”

Caretaker shrugged. “It’s Friday, we get to have a head start for the weekend. Won’t that be fun?” Her smile faltered slightly and her voice shifted lower, to more serious. “The nurse said someone should keep an eye on you — and I wouldn’t want to leave you, anyway. You still need help.”

Whumpee knew that. He looked down, fidgeting with the hospital wristband. If he’d kept every one of those he’d got even during the past year, he could probably sew them together to make full sleeves for both arms. Money was already tight, as Caretaker worked to support the both of them, and Caretaker missing work because of Whumpee’s various appointments and frequent trips to the ER had had their effect on their income.

“Yes, but…” he said, the familiar tearing feeling of shame finding its place. “I thought we would call Friend or Sibling to stay with me while you’re at work. We have before.”

“Now we don’t have to.” Caretaker glanced at him, frowning. “Do you not… want me to stay?”

“Didn’t they say you can’t keep doing this anymore if you plan to keep your position?” Whumpee asked. “You like your job. I don’t want you to risk losing it because of me.”

“They will understand. I told them it is a family matter.”

Whumpee’s cheeks got hot and he moved his focus away from Caretaker again, watching out of the window instead. They were passing by shops, parks, and pubs, taking many turns in the little streets of their labyrinth of a hometown. Whumpee hadn’t even noticed they had left the main road, but he definitely recognised where Caretaker was heading.

“You didn’t have to lie because of me,” he mumbled, as Caretaker pulled into the parking lot of a local, 24-hour barbeque restaurant they both loved. “About it being a… a family thing.”

Caretaker turned to Whumpee, finally being able to give him her undivided attention as she turned off the engine, smiling softly.

“I didn’t.”

#i... wrote... something?#you have no idea how much my not fluent speaker ass struggled with vocabulary for a thing this short #gentle caretaker #caretaking #sick whump #comfort whump #medical whump #caretaker x whumpee #whump writing #whump scenarios #whump fic #caretaker #whumpee #whump #whumpblr #my writing

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sweetheartmotives · 10 months

Text

`; 三 Clumsy Yandere;`三

Desc and possible Tw: Yandere themes, sexual themes, kidnapping, crying (from clumsy yan), begging (from clumsy yan), clumsiness/falling, angst. BIG angst!

Let me know if I missed any!

The weather was warm and the time was 2pm. You were out with some friends/family at a pizza shop and a family member/friend decided that you should come! You were on your way back to your and your family/friends' private room, until you saw someone fall, and to make it worse, they had a drink and it spilled everywhere. You decided to help them out! You walked over and he was already scrambling to grab some napkins and clean it up, you came over and helped him. He cried and thanked you. After that day, you earned yourself a stalker.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… you met in a very pathetic way. Soda all over the floor and you both on your hands and knees cleaning it up.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is actually a loser. He doesn't go out unless he's forced to. This was one of his many embarrassing moments. But unlike the others, this one had a good outcome!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… waited for you to leave. It was dark outside, so following you wasn't gonna be hard.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… was horribly nervous when he followed you. If you turned around, he'd probably cry!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… follows you home and gets your address. Then he runs away..?

•• Clumsy Yandere who… gets your number, socials, etc. He spends the whole night searching for you on the Internet.

He got ur number thru ur address.. don't ask how

•• Clumsy Yandere who… jerked it to your pics. If you don't have any on social media, he probably took one 78 while stalking you.

Onto the genre stuff! :]

•• Clumsy Yandere who… drools over you. He can't get enough of you, so don't mind the drool dripping down his chin!

Casually drooling over you

•• Clumsy Yandere who… cries when you are loud. When they first took you down to their basement, you cried/yelled. They began to panic and cry.

PLEASE STOP He sobs

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is hopeless. They cry and beg for your forgiveness.. What can you ask? Anything!

M'sorry! I'm so sorry! Please forgive meeeee!! He whined and cried.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… created a playlist for you. They like romantic gestures! (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡

•• Clumsy Yandere who… does whatever you like. Wanna crochet or play video games? They're down!

Oh? Uh.. yea we can!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… was shy about sex at first.. but then humped your leg and cried about how much they loved you.

Mmm..~ ahhh~ I love you.. love u so much..

•• Clumsy Yandere who… likes to paint! They've painted portraits of you and gifted them to you.

Ah.. my love.. look what I made for you..! He hands a nude painting of you to you.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… does whatever you want. And he doesn't whine or cry! Pretty great, right?? :3

Of course my love..

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a crybaby. He's also a really nervous/anxious person!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… has a resting sad face and always looks like he's gonna start crying :(

•• Clumsy Yandere who… owns 3 cats! Tax Fraud, eepy, and coco ♡

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a loser. A very pathetic loser. No further explanation.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… always trips over his own feet. At any time in the day, he trips. Does he cry every time? Nope, but he's always close to tears and he'll be horribly embarrassed.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… gives kisses anytime of the day. Sure he's super shy, but that doesn't stop him from giving kisses! :)

Mwah mwah mwah (〃ω〃)

•• Clumsy Yandere who… lets Stockholm syndrome do its thing. Until then, he'll shower you with praise and love!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… knew it was wrong to kidnap you, but.. is it bad to be a little selfish?..

I'm sorry my love.. I just really wanted to be with you..!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… if you're really suffering while being with him and Stockholm syndrome doesn't work.. he'll let you go. He can't stand seeing you upset.

Goodbye.. my love.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… in the end, will always love you, even if you leave him.

My love.. I'll love you no matter what.. even if you hate me. My love will never stop..

This is a bit of a long wait! But I hope you enjoyed it as I enjoyed writing it! (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡

#This was long awaited! i hope you all enjoyed <3 #clumsy yandere #yandere #yandere oc #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #yandere male #gn reader #x gn y/n #x reader #male yandere #:3

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chaosisalwayscrying · 5 months

Note

i NEEEEEED a chris or matt x british reader cos there just never is any and i just want. i’ve asked before but they lowkey just kept on saying “it’s chewsday innit” over and over again 😭

LONDON GIRL

⇥ synopsis : matt goes to with his girlfriend to the place she grew up, london

⇥ warnings : none :)!

⇥ extra : ummm i hate this 😝 its been pushed back sm cause of school AND i rewrote it sm cause i hated it. i hope this is good enough 😕 ty for the request anon!!

⇥ masterlist !

⇥ taglist !

you and matt had met at an influencer party, after you had just moved in with friends in LA from london. they were big in the influencer scene and decided to drag you out. of course, they ditched you in favor of drinking and flirting with whoever possible, but you weren't interested in even speaking until matt ran into you.

when you turned, it was like love at first sight. he frantically apologized for almost knocking you over, and when you spoke and he heard your accent, he fell harder. your thick accent was so attractive to him, and he was asking for your number before his brain could even process it.

you gave it to him, figuring that nows the time to make new friends.

and now, a year later, you're in a happy 8-month long relationship. matt was nothing short of amazing, he pampered you and make you feel special every day.

so, when you decided to go back to london for week to visit, you drag matt, chris, and nick with you too.

"are you sure its ok we come back to london with you pretty? dont you want to visit family and go around alone?" matt asks, watching you from his place on the bed.

"i wanna show you all my favorite places matt, and we can explore and shop with your brothers!" you return, a wide grin on your face as you turn to look at him. you were in the middle of packing you and matts clothes in a suitcase.

matts heart swells as you smile at him, before asking for the tenth time if you wanted him to help.

"no it’s ok, i like to pack stuff. plus i wanna organize it. we already set out our outfits so i just have to pack them" you say, turning back to the suitcase and placing a shirt on your side.

"oh! actually, can you go pack the toiletries? i wrote out a list of all the stuff, it should be on the vanity with the bag" you ask, not turning as you hear him get up and shuffle around.

"of course, ill be back" he said, coming up behind you and kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“thank youuu!” you say in a sing-song voice as he walks out, blush burning on your cheeks from his actions.

by the time you had packed you and matts things, it felt as if your whole wardrobe was packed up all over again. when you had gone upstairs to check on chris and nick, nick was sat on top of the suitcase as chris tried to zip it, making you laugh for a good few minutes.

once you stopped laughing at their expense, they practically begged you to help them reorganize and pack, to which you obliged with a smile.

—————

landing in london was like sweet relief, the plane was uncomfortable and there was a lot of turbulence, and you had gotten so dizzy and nauseous at a point you had to lock yourself in the plane bathroom.

the plane rides were brutal, from la to boston, then to london in the same trip was sure to take a toll on anyone, but the triplets had never flown that long before and it was definitely taking its toll. chris could barely order the uber for all of you, and matt almost missed your shared luggage and grabbed someone elses.

the next few days were chaotic, magical, and felt completely unreal. you and the boys started off your week by exploring some little shops close to the hotel, not wanting to go too far because of the jetlag still wearing off.

the day after that, you dragged the boys around to all the tourist locations possible. nick and chris were so eager to get cool pictures and film for their channel, that you and matt were able to have nice quiet moments and cute pictures (courtesy of nick and chris).

when you were near big ben, chris and nick had gone off to an obvious tourist shop to get stupid shirts and whatever else they could find, leaving you and matt on a bridge nearby as the sun began setting.

"y'know," matt began, turning from the sunset to look in your eyes. "i’m really happy you invited us on this trip. seeing the place you grew up from your perspective and exploring your favorite spots feels so special. i love you" he smiled, leaning in for a kiss right after.

the kiss was soft and sweet, matt holding your hips as your hands rest on his cheeks. as you part, you hear obnoxious cheers from certain boys a few feet away. you blush furiously as matt turned around with a playful scowl on his lips.

“you guys suck!” he calls, a chuckle breaking his angry facade. he turns back to you and playfully rolls his eyes, though in his head he was hoping his brothers got photos of them in front of the sunset.

“im glad you’re having fun, matty. i was scared you’d hate london” you smile, finally responding to his previous comment. matts expression morphed into disbelief, which made you laugh.

“hate london? i love it here! minus most of the food, but other than that i love it here baby, im so happy you invited us.” he smiled, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips.

you smiled too, happy that he and his brothers were having so much fun in london, a place so beautiful and near to your heart.

ove the next few days, you and the boys explored the city some more, finding cute boutiques and cringey tourist shops alike. all the shopping you did made it hard to repack your bags and fit everything, and you had to get nick and chris to sit on your suitcases to get them shut.

you would say the trip was a success, you got to revisit all your favorite places and make them even more special as you made new memories there.

⇥ TAGS !

@sturnioloshacker @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hertvgirl @cupidzsq @sturnnie @leah-loves-lilies @billkaulitz0630

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harlowcomehome · 11 months

Text

Mommy & Jade day:

Requested by @exoticr0ses.

Jack was up early, he had volunteered to chaperone Hazels end of the year field trip. Jade had snuck her way into your bed early this morning and was sound asleep beside you as you watched your husband lean over the sink.

He was doing a skincare routine, it was nothing too fancy but you liked watching him do it. You had bought him a headband to push his curls out of his face, and you liked the way he looked in it.

You admired him as he stood shirtless over the sink, he felt you looking at him and immediately blushed.

He peered out of the bathroom, seeing you sitting against the headboard with Jade cuddled beside you.

“What are you two doing today?” He asked in a soft tone, worried he’d wake Jade.

“I think we’ll do breakfast here and then maybe go shopping, end the day with some painting or something” you yawned.

“Shopping? I’ll brace for impact” he joked making you stifle a laugh.

Hazel ran into the bedroom, realizing her sister was asleep still. “Tell her to get up! It’s a beautiful day!” Hazel plopped on the bed beside you, opposite side of Jade.

“Someone’s excited about their field trip?” Jack teased and Hazel nodded.

“I can’t wait to see all the animals!” Hazels class trip was to the zoo this year.

“‘Make sure you wear your old shoes and not the pair we just got. Also, you both need sunscreen!” You reminded. “Are you sure they are feeding you? I can make you guys something real quick” you started to worry.

“I made sure” Jack smiled, knowing how you would get anxious about stuff like this. He checked his watch reminding Hazel to go finish getting dressed so he could change too.

Once Jack and Hazel were ready to leave you gave them both a kiss goodbye, reminding them to stay safe and alert. Jade started to wake up shortly after.

“Good morning sleepy head” You kissed her forehead.

“Morning Mommy” she rubbed her eyes. “Is it Mommy and Jadey day?”

You smiled, “It is! Do you want to start with breakfast?” You started to get off the bed, waiting to help her off of it.

“Yes- I’m hungry!”

You helped Jade off the bed and started some morning cartoons. “I put Bluey on! Do you want waffles or pancakes today?”

Jade crawled onto the couch, pondering for a minute. “I want potatoes and eggs!”

“I can do that” you smiled as you walked to the kitchen. Her answers were starting to surprise you, she had always been picky so a change in routine was always surprising.

You made chorizo with potato and eggs for yourself, making it into a burrito and giving Jade a tortilla on the side with her potatoes and eggs.

“Cheese please?” Jade looked up at you as you handed her a plate.

“On your eggs?”

“Yes! Daddy said that’s how you like it and I wanna try too!”

You smiled at that, mixing some cheese into her scrambled eggs before putting the plate back down in front of her.

“It’s yummy!” She giggled as she ate her eggs.

“I’m glad you like it bug! What do you wanna do today Jadey?” You sat beside her starting to eat your breakfast.

“Shopping?” She giggled as she continued to stab her food with her fork.

“You’re just like me” you giggled “That’s what I was thinking too.”

The two of you quickly got ready for the day showering and wearing similar colors to go shopping.

“Matchy matchy!” Jade giggled as she saw your outfit.

“Can I wear Daddy’s sun glasses? It’s bright out here” Jade pointed at one of Jack's various sunglasses that were sitting on the dash. You knew they’d be too big for her but obliged anyway.

“I need a new swimming suit and Hazel needs one too!” Jade reminded you as you pulled into the shopping center parking lot.

“Oh don’t worry, that’s on the list” you winked as you helped her out of the car.

You held her hand as you walked around the plaza, the two of you were rarely approached if Jack wasn’t around but you stayed alert just in case.

“I sit inside shopping cart?” Jade pointed at it as you walked into a store.

“Sure bug” You picked her up and set her inside as you roamed the store together but not without getting yourself an iced chai and her a vanilla bean frappe.

Jade giggled as the two of you looked through swimsuits. “Daddy needs those!”

They were turquoise swim trunks with bright neon pink flamingos. You knew he’d truly think they were awful but you liked them and so did Jade so you put them in the cart anyway buying Urban, Clay, and Cope a matching one.

“For uncles?”

“For uncles!” You verified.

You and Jade spent the next three hours shopping before it was clearly nap time. Jade started to whine and get fussy and you knew it was time to leave.

When you got home you took your time unloading the car as Jade went down for a nap, usually, it was a struggle but not today.

Jack FaceTime called you to check in, you sat down on the couch as he told you all about his and Hazels day at the zoo. He wore a hat and copious amounts of sunscreen but his cheeks and nose were still slightly pink.

“Did you see any flamingos?” You giggled to yourself but your husband knew you better than that.

“Why did you have a mischievous giggle about flamingos Mrs. Harlow?” He raised a brow.

“You’ll see when you get home” you shyly replied.

“Jadey asleep?”

“Yeah, poor baby is exhausted. You’re having a good time though?”

“I bet!” He laughed “Yeah! It’s not too bad! Hazel is sitting with her friends. We’re eating lunch and then finishing up the other half of the zoo” he rolled his eyes making you giggle.

“Okay handsome, I love you. Tell Hazel I love her too!” You blew him a kiss.

“I love you, baby, see you later!” Jack hung up and you continued putting things away.

After about an hour you decided to get the canvas and paints out for when Jade woke up, ordering you both some lunch for delivery.

You watched as the food delivery driver became closer, waking Jade up so she would be awake enough to eat.

“I ordered some food bug, it’ll be here soon” You shook her as she slowly woke up.

“I also set stuff out to paint after we eat” You continued to talk to her so she didn’t fall back asleep.

“Otay mommy!” She started getting up and the two of you waited in the living room.

“Mommy, I had a fun day!”

“Me too Jadey!”

“I miss daddy and sissy though” she sighed. “Does that hurt your feelings mommy?”

“No sweet girl. I miss them too. They’ll be home soon and you can show Daddy his swim trunks and Hazel the swimsuit you picked out for her!”

“I hope they like them” she chewed on her lip nervously.

“Oh I know they’ll love them” you smiled as the doorbell rang.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #Jack Harlow imagines #Jack Harlow blurb #dad! Jack #fic requests #exoticr0ses

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nathandrakeisabottom · 6 months

Note

Headcannons about them with an anxious SO? Love your stuff x

Thank you, friend! Now, in full canonical honesty, I don’t believe that either Nathan or Sam would be particularly good at dealing with their deeper anxiety, let alone someone else’s, let alone someone else’s who they loved dearly and would only be afraid to make it worse (that many crumbling bridges and a guy’s gotta if consider his only superpower is the ability to destroy everything he touches) for most of their young lives.

However, I do believe that post-UC4 (perhaps a little earlier for Nathan), and a good dose of necessary therapy (paid for in pirate coins, of course)--- they’d be more than willing to finally take on the challenge.

For themselves, and for the person they love more than anything.

Drakes with an Anxious S/O Headcanons

Nathan:

In his younger days, the prince of the awkward smile and half-hearted clap on the back. A pulley doll whose only catchphrases were “Man, that’s hard”, “Yeah. Yeesh.”, and “Soooo, I guess this would be a bad time for a joke, huh?”. Scurries to the bathroom as soon as they’re not in tears anymore, and stays there for as long as it takes to stop hearing the residual sobs.

However, his late 30s and 40s bring him a much healthier perspective (and therapy— Jesus, finally) and being the smarty pants he is, he passes on no opportunity to put his new skills and knowledge to use.

That playfulness and desire to find the lightness in even the hardest situations never leaves him at any age, though.

A panic attack? “‘Is something… wrong with you’? You realize you’re talking to the guy who accidentally destroys ancient temples for a living, as an archaeologist? And I still consider myself a not so bad guy. So in my eyes, you’re basically a lesser known Mesopotamian god.”

Got a bad grade? “A D in Psychometrics? I don’t know, sounds like they don’t know anything about math if they’re using a letter to grade you. Maybe they should go get their teaching certificates checked. Hey, how ‘bout I just draw you a PhD myself? You know I have an eye for art.”

Dealing with shitty parents? Landlord? Roommates? Exes who won’t leave you the fuck alone? “What? That buffoon? Guy who can’t even spell their own name right? That bastard isn’t worth a thought of a thought of a thought in your head. Pretty sure they haven’t had a thought in their own head since 1996.”

As soon as his first wide-toothed smile is won, he’s leaning into his partner with a secretive smirk: “Ya wanna get the fuck out of here?”

Because distractions always helped him before.

Will act especially gentlemanly, and theatrically play it up, while taking their partner for a frozen yogurt, antique shop, Target trip, public park, laser tag (yes, really) decompress. Bows when he opens the car door for them. Pays for everything. Calls them ‘your majesty’ for the entirety of the excursion.

All he wants is to get them to smile. And he’s not stopping until he sees it.

When the night creeps in and his S/O starts to lose steam, Nathan’s own worry grows more obvious, though he tries his best to keep it to himself.

Watches them with wide eyes. Gives them space, but still asks every few minutes if they need a cup of water. No? Tea? Arnold Palmer? Popsicle? Massage? Hot Pocket? Sexy pillow fight? However many it takes to make his partner laugh again. But he fully means every offer he gives.

Says nothing as he helps them undress and into their PJs. Touches are tender and intimate, gently rubs their shoulders and neck. Never too hard, never too direct. Plays the friendly ghost and lets their partner take the lead, but never, ever just sits around to watch.

Makes them a beverage of some sort, even if they say no. Hot lemonade with honey is his personal homecure. Says yellow is a happy color, so it must be good for you.

And right before they turn the lights out, Nate timidly offers— with a shy, trying chuckle— if they want him to read them a bedtime story.

Somehow shocked every time they say yes. Mumbles something self-derogatory about himself (“Ya know, not the best actor, but—” “Personally I think I have the voice of a dying goose, but—”) before sitting on the nearest surface and cracking open a book.

If he’s still feeling a little awkward, will uneasily ask if they wanna hear what he’s been reading lately, and will do so if asked— but really wants to read the pirate storybooks his mother read to him and Sam when they were kids.

It always made him feel better when the world felt too big, too scary, too cruel.

So he wants to share it with the person he loves.

He wants to share everything with the person he loves.

And without even asking, goes to the medicine cabinet and brings them a tablet of whatever they need when the anxiety gets especially bad, and says “I know, it’s scary. But we’ve been through scary before, right?” with a kiss on the cheek as they swallow it down with a sip of lemonade.

Lingers, eyes down, and vaguely nods to nobody as he stands and walks to the door.

“Want me… uh, want me to keep reading to you?” But he offers before he can even get past the door frame.

“Do you want me to want you to keep reading to me?”

And the last thing he wants to see is his love, alone. The idea of them crying beneath the covers because they were too afraid to burden him with it, too afraid to be seen. Everything he felt he had to do when he was 6 and his mother “passed”, age 9, 10, 11, 12 after a black eye, the words that his brain told him wrong: spoken aloud by the playground bullies he feared he’d never be stronger than.

But he knew they were wrong. The bullies were wrong. The ones in his brain. The ones in theirs.

“Yes.” He replies without missing a beat.

And he makes sure to hold their hand in his free one until the second they fall asleep… and a few hours after, just to be safe.

The next morning they fucking better expect breakfast in bed— and he maybe, just maybe, might even be willing to spring for McDonald’s, if that’s what they want. As long as they promise to eat actual fruit after. And hell, maybe even a vegetable or two when he makes dinner that night. Did you know that eating right and exercise are actually primary solutions to poor mental health—? That’s what Dr. Dorian said— No, potatoes don’t count as a vegetable— no, especially not if it’s fried— NO, FRENCH FRIES DON’T COUNT, BABY—

Sam:

Sam takes a bit longer to warm up to discussing anxiety than Nathan does, mostly due to struggling so deeply with it on his own. It’s not like prisoners (or Shoreline guards) made the most comforting companions.

The better he could keep secrets, the less he could reveal, the safer he’d be.

So it makes sense that it’s both his greatest strength and weakness when it comes to emotionally turbulent times.

In his younger, more avoidant years, he’d be the first to leave the room, leave the building, hell, sometimes even leave the city after a particularly heavy cry or confrontation with his then-partner. Only to come back the next morning and act like nothing ever happened.

But now, he doesn’t run. After prison, after Rafe, after Madagascar, all he wants is to be allowed to stay. To be wanted to stay by someone who loves him.

Is happiest to just sit with you in the silence. His biggest skill is his ability to weather the storm. And whether you need to scream bloody murder, or need to sit and decompress and just fucking feel, but can’t do it alone, Sam’s there. Listening.

Once you’re done talking, he takes one last, long drag of his cigarette, stubs it out onto the pavement, and asks simply: “So do you want solutions… or something else, sweet’art?”

You can see in his eyes— darting less than solid, certain against your own— that he really means it, in every way that he was too afraid to when he was younger.

The wonderful and terrifying thing about having anxiety while Sam is there is that it’s a vulnerable experience for the both of you. He’s learning, discovering, trying right along with you. And he may not be able to lift you up so easily, but he’ll be able to sink into the dark places with you, and not be afraid to see what’s down there.

And maybe seeing someone he loves so deeply, sees as so beautiful, so smart, so kind, so wonderful, so absolutely perfect to him feel the same ways he does about himself… maybe it makes him think that he’s not as terrible as his brain tells him, either.

Helps you take action by letting himself (finally) not be the smart one: “When ya… get like this, what do you usually do first, sweet’art? Paint me a pit’chure.” Gives you complete control, and smiles softly when you wipe your tears and the logical, the archaeological mind awakens. Mimics unraveling an ancient map when you begin to explain, and you inadvertently hiccup out a laugh.

At times, it’ll feel like he’s trying to run again, but when he stands up and walks across the room— he always returns. This time with your favorite of his jackets, the denim one that smells like him even though he just cleaned it, and drapes it protectively over your shoulders. Clasps his palm at the back of your neck and rubs out the knot he always finds there. Smiles toothy and wide when your words are broken up by sighs of relief. Only to be filled once again with silence, gazes meeting sweet and safe.

“Remember Indonesia?” He offers with a smirk, despite your furrowed brow.

“I guess? What about—?”

“I read the runes’ instructions and ran us in circles all around Bali, only to reread the transcript and realized I got three letters completely wrong. J—V—A. Java. It was goddamn Java the entire time.”

“Your point being?”

He smiles and shrugs. Trying. Maybe he’s wrong, a foreigner in some ancient, uncertain land, but he tries.

“Sometimes our brains are just wrong.” He tries for you. “That’s all.”

You sniffle, and he leans in to press a prickly kiss to your cheek. His jacket is still warm from the dryer, wafting with the residual sting of cigarette, Old Spice Captain, cheap mouthwash, even cheaper aftershave, and something else completely unnameable.

And maybe some others would think the scent appalling, but it’s the strangeness, the specificity, and yes, the stank— everything that makes Sam him— that makes you love it. Love him. The depth. The difference.

The pain, and what he chose to do with it.

Another kiss, this time down your neck. This time, the sigh of relief is his own.

What he chose to change it into.

“So… any chance sex therapy might be a thing?” He asks grinningly.

“Why don’t we find out, ‘sweet’art’?”

#uncharted #uncharted 4: a thief's end #nathan drake #sam drake #nathan drake x reader #sam drake x reader #happy christmas yall!!!#and for those are yall who struggle today. you arent alone #feel free to jump into my inbox and geek out with me #sometimes family is just someone you share blood with #and that's allowed to be it #shea out

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Note

Hi there Bug! May I request one where Eddie and FemReader are in a committed relationship and Eddie’s breeding kink has been full on big time in overdrive because he really wants a kid and the more sex the better! Plus it’s around the holidays and they keep looking at baby stuff and Santa stuff etc which for some reason is making it worse But femreader finds out she can’t have any kids for whatever reason and is convinced Eddie will leave her because of it so heartbreakingly she tells him what’s going on and tells him if he wants to go and be with someone who can give him kids she would understand? Not being able to have kids myself and giving away little things I had gotten for the someday that never will come made me think of this one. (And No, I am not sad anymore about it- it just lets me help care for the little lost sheepies who don’t have anyone really. ) Thank you 💖

I hope I did your request justice. Thank you, from a little lost sheepie, for looking out for us 💚

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), breeding kink, infertility, mentions of abortion, angst, hurt/comfort

WC: 3.1k

Dividers from @firefly-graphics

The First Christmas

The Starcourt Mall around Christmas time was always a nightmare, packed wall-to-wall with busy, irritated shoppers. You were one of them; your husband was too busy pointing out every item he wanted to notice your misery.

“Babe, check out that leather jacket!”

“That notebook with the dragon on the front would be perfect for writing lyrics.”

“Holy shit! A collector’s edition of the new Metallica album!”

After years of dating and a few more being married, you’ve gotten pretty good at ignoring him when you need to. But when he drags you towards his next find, you can’t help but pay attention.

“Maybe we could get this?” It’s a thick, hardbound book of lullabies and bedtime stories. Drawings of barnyard animals adorn the cover. Eddie runs his forefinger over it gently, caressing it while deep in thought.

“Don’t you think it’s a little below your reading level?” you tease, threading your fingers through his free ones.

Eddie gives you a wanting look, deep brown eyes meeting yours. His expression is completely sincere. “I want a baby,” he states plainly, as though he’s simply asking for a bag of potato chips at the grocery store.

“Okay, Eds,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “Maybe Santa will leave one under the tree for you this year.”

“I’m serious.”

You sigh, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Can we have this discussion, like, not in the middle of the mall?” you whisper.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” he asks, unable to disguise the excitement in his voice. A hopeful grin stretches across his face.

“It’s a ‘maybe,’” you tell him, but there’s already a buzzing feeling in your stomach. You’ve been waiting for him to bring up the subject of kids. Of the two of you, he had been the most resistant to parenthood. It wasn’t an issue of liking or disliking children; Eddie had plenty of experience being a babysitter (well, co-babysitter with Steve Harrington) to his gaggle of misfits during his high school years. The problem was Eddie’s confidence in himself to be a good parent. No matter how many times you reassured him that he wouldn’t be like his own dad, or that your kid would absolutely adore him, he’d remained hesitant.

But now here he is, in a Borders bookstore, damn near begging you for a baby.

Eddie refrains from talking about it for the remainder of your shopping trip, save for when you passed by Santa’s Workshop. He’d taken one look at the kids running around joyfully and murmured, “that could be us with Baby Munson next year.”

The moment you close the car door, Eddie looks at you, beaming. “So,” he starts, rubbing your thigh, “can we talk now?”

“Since when are you ready for a baby?” you question, glancing over your shoulder as you pull out from the parking spot. “I’m not complaining, but I don’t wanna get my hopes up just for you to change your mind.”

Your husband pauses before he speaks; you know from experience that this is a rare occurrence. “This might sound dumb,” he chews on a fingernail while he speaks, “but when I saw that book, I could just picture reading it to a little baby. Our little baby,” he amends. “And I’m still scared, but I–I think I can do this. With you. Feel like I can do anything with you, sweetheart.”

“So, when do you want to start trying?” you ask coyly, though you have an idea of how he will respond.

“As soon as we get home,” he affirms, and you laugh at his intensity and at your correct prediction. “If it wouldn’t cause a wreck, I’d start right fuckin’ now.”

You grip his left hand with your right. “We’re really gonna do this?”

He squeezes your hand back, and there’s a slight tremble to it. “Let’s start our little metal family.”

As soon as you get through the door of your apartment, Eddie is weaving his hands through your hair and kisses you deeply.

“Eds, the presents,” you manage, but he just drops them by the couch before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

“Don’t care about ‘em,” he mutters, plopping you on the bed with a gentle thump. “Just need you.” His tongue parts your lips as he climbs on top of you, knee nudging against your sex through your jeans. “You have no fuckin’ idea how badly I need you.”

You trace your fingers over the obvious bulge straining against his zipper. “I think I have a clue,” you murmur, giggling when he moans at your touch. “Sensitive, are we?”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra, “you just gave me permission to give you a baby. What did you expect?”

You press your lips to his exposed collarbone before undressing him. “Want your baby, Eddie,” you whisper into his skin. Your fingers toy with his belt buckle and pants button until they’re both undone.

His strong hands slide beneath your panties; you can feel him grin as he glides his fingers along your folds. “Y’got this wet thinkin’ about me filling you up?” he teases, and you can only nod your response. “Ready for me to cum in you over and over until you’re pregnant with my baby?”

“P-Please,” you stammer, and in an instant, you’re taking him in. His thick cock stretches you in a familiar way. You hiss at the pressure, his thrusts speeding up as he lets himself get deeper inside you.

“You’re s’fuckin’ gorgeous, babe,” Eddie muses. “Can’t wait to see how beautiful you look, all round ‘cause you’re having my kid.” He gives you an incredulous look. “I just remembered—your tits are gonna get huge, fuck.” As if to emphasize his point, he sucks a bruise just below your left nipple.

You whimper as he grows even harder, tip rutting against your g-spot and pushing you towards your own release. “Gonna cum,” you choke out. You clench around him as you finish, crying out his name while digging your nails into his back.

“Good girl,” he praises you, which only turns you on more. “I c-can’t hold out; y’feel too good.” He spills into you with a groan, using his softening length to push everything in. “Gotta make sure it takes, y’know?” He kisses your cheek as you both come down from the high.

“If it doesn’t, we just get to keep trying,” you smile, catching your breath. At the time, it doesn’t seem like a bad thing.

The Second Christmas

You didn’t get pregnant that first month. Unsurprising; it rarely happened that quickly. You were disappointed when your period came, but you and Eddie had no problem having copious amounts of sex.

But after ten months without success, you decided to consult a doctor. “Maybe there’s, like, medicine I can take to help,” you’d told Eddie before you left. Still, a bad feeling gnawed at your insides as you’d said it; a feeling that was only confirmed by the doctor’s news.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Munson,” she’d said. “It looks like you don’t have any viable eggs.”

She’d droned on about genetic issues, but your head was swimming. It all boiled down to one outcome: infertility. Not giving Eddie the baby he wanted so badly. Not becoming a mom.

You’d practically collapsed into his arms when you came home, apologizing profusely without offering context.

“Baby, baby, what happened?” His own eyes filled with tears, as they often did when you’d cry. “What did the doctor say?”

After slowing your sobs, you’d repeated what you’d been told. “‘M so sorry,” you choked out. “I understand if you don’t wanna be with me…if you wanna be with someone who can get pregnant.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not,” he shook his head, pulling you to his chest for a tight hug. “No, baby. ‘S only you. We can…we’ll figure something out.” A tear slipped down his cheek, though he’d tried to wipe it away before you noticed. “Maybe we were meant to look out for our little sheep, rather than have ones of our own.” But he didn’t believe it, not really.

And now it’s Christmas again. You pulled on a red sweater dress and ran a comb through your hair. The platter of cookies you’d made yesterday was wrapped and ready to bring to Nancy and Jonathan’s house.

“Eds? Good to go?” you call out, frowning when you don’t get a response. “Hello?” You pad out into the living room, finding him standing in front of your bookcase, looking forlornly at the book of nursery rhymes he’d bought this time last year.

“Sorry,” he clears his throat and blinks his red-rimmed eyes. “I was kinda hopin’ for a Christmas miracle.”

“Me, too,” you admit, wrapping your arms around him. You could stay like this forever, safe in his grasp.

“Y’gonna be okay today?” Eddie asks, offering a weak smile. “With, y’know…”

You knew. It has been on your mind every day since Thanksgiving. All of Eddie’s little sheep, now in their senior year of college, were back in Hawkins for the holiday. Everyone was chattering about career plans and graduation vacations. Well, everyone except for Max.

“You all right?” you’d asked her, concern written all over your face.

She’d quickly dragged you into the other room, away from everyone else. “Please don’t be mad at me,” she’d begged.

“Max, you’re like my little sister. Even if I got mad at you, I can’t stay mad at you for long.” You gave her a smile, but it faltered at her words.

“I’m pregnant,” Max blurted out. “I-I hooked up with someone when I first got back to school because I was really upset about breaking up with Lucas, and I was stupid and—and now I’m pregnant. And I was afraid to tell you because I know you…” she trailed off, not needing to finish her sentence. “I understand if you hate me.”

You were stunned into silence. “I don’t hate you,” you whispered. She barreled into you for a hug as you asked, “do you know what you wanna do?”

Max looked up at you with misted eyes. “I waited too long for an abortion,” she explained sheepishly. “Guess I was kinda in denial.”

You’d nodded, knowing all too well how easily it was to ignore the obvious. “Whatever choice you make, I know it’ll be the right one.”

That night, you’d curled up into Eddie’s chest and cried. Cried for Max, facing a daunting decision. Cried for you, trying so hard to have a baby with no success. Cried for the situation, that some people could get exactly what other people want, even when they don’t want it themselves.

You knew you’d be seeing Max again on Christmas, and now that day has arrived. It would be hard to look at her little bump, but she needed you now more than ever. You could suck it up for a few hours.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask her, attempting a genuine smile.

“Better now that I’m in the second trimester,” she started. “Not as nauseous.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. You’d risk nausea every day for the rest of your life if it meant having a baby, but you push on. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Can I…can I talk to you and Eddie for a sec?” Her eyes flit between the two of you. “It’s important.”

You wave Eddie over, who’s listening to Steve ramble about a new car he’s thinking of buying. He nods at you gratefully. “What’s up?”

“Max has something to tell us,” you say, and his face blanches. Sometimes you forget how your infertility also impacts him; seeing Max pregnant wasn’t easy for Eddie, either.

“Sh-sure, yeah,” he mumbles, and the three of you duck into the guest bedroom.

“I’ve been thinking. A lot.” Max fidgets, tugging on a strand of her red hair. “And I realized that, as much as I already love this baby, I’m not ready to be a parent.” She takes a deep breath and blinks back tears. “But you two are.”

You sit forward. “Max, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying—well, asking, really—if you would maybe think about adopting it.” She finally allows her eyes to meet yours.

“Oh my God,” you manage, grabbing her hand. “Are you serious?”

She nods. “I want to be a forensic psychologist. Help solve crimes and keep people safe. But I know I can’t do that if I have a baby. At least, not right now,” she adds. “But I was really anxious about placing him or her for adoption with random strangers. Maybe it sounds silly, because I wouldn’t be the one raising the kid, but I couldn’t stop worrying about it.

“And then after I talked to you on Thanksgiving, I felt a little better. I didn’t have an answer yet, but just…just talking to you made me feel better. And I realized that whenever life got tough for me, I turned to you guys.” She gives you and Eddie a small smile. “And it was, like, why didn’t I think of this before? You’d be the best parents. You’ve already had plenty of practice with all of us.”

Eddie looks at you, slack-jawed. “You would do that for us?” he asks Max. “You really want us to adopt the baby?”

“Absolutely,” she confirms. “I know we have to get lawyers and all that stuff—”

“We’d cover that,” you jump in. “And we can help with doctor’s appointments, too.”

Max pulls you both in for a hug. “I’m still scared,” she admits, “but this makes it a little less scary.”

It’ll be a long road ahead, you know this for sure, but the three of you take a collective sigh of relief. Maybe you and Eddie have gotten your Christmas miracle after all.

The Third Christmas

“Nance, where do you want the green beans?” you call over your shoulder as you pull the casserole from the oven.

“You can put them on the table; should be space for them,” she answers, thinly slicing the ham. “I’m almost done with this, and we can sit down to eat.”

Gripping the dish with the oven mitts, you walk into the dining room and place it down. “Dinner’ll be ready soon!” you tell the other guests.

Hopper flashes you a thumbs-up. “El was just initiating Katie into the adopted daughter’s club,” he murmurs to you. “I heard her saying that they’re both extra special because they were specifically chosen by their parents.”

“She’s not wrong,” you laugh. “Although El’s powers help with that whole ‘extra special’ deal.” You look around the room. “Where are they now?”

“Diaper change,” El says as she passes by. “Eddie took her to Nancy and Jonathan’s room.”

You nod gratefully, walking over and lightly rapping on the door. “Is it safe for Mommy to come in, or is it a toxic waste zone?”

“You’re clear!” Eddie calls back. You hear the diaper bag zip up, accompanied by the sound of baby giggles. “This just in: Katie thinks zippers are the funniest things in the world.”

You bend down and scoop her up in your arms. “That’s only because she hasn’t heard any of your fantastic dad jokes.” Your body fills with warmth when your daughter rests her chubby little cheek on your chest. Your daughter. You still can’t get over it even though she’s nearly seven months old. Max gave birth a week after her graduation, and after fifteen hours of labor, a six pound five ounce Katie Munson was born. Once you found out that Max’s middle name was Katherine, you knew exactly what your baby girl would be called. You’d been worried that you wouldn’t bond since she’d spent the last nine months in a womb that wasn’t yours, but you’d felt an overpowering love from the moment the nurse placed her in your waiting arms.

Watching Eddie get to be a dad was nothing short of amazing. The way he peppers her face with kisses, or wakes up for middle of the night feedings, or picks out her clothes. Sometimes, he juts out his lower lip and holds up a tiny dress, cooing, “I didn’t even know they made clothes this little!”

“Let’s go get some food,” you say to your husband, bouncing Katie on your hip. You walk out of the room just as Max is walking out of the bathroom. Her face lights up when she spots Katie.

“Hi, Katie-girl!” she exclaims, reaching out to hold her. “Can Auntie Max get a hug?” You hand her over, watching Max inhale sharply.

You place your palm on her back. “You okay? If it’s…if it’s too much to see her…”

“No, no,” she reassures you. “I mean, it’s hard, but…I know I made the right decision.” She starts making funny faces at Katie. “Look at you with your red hair! It’s a blessing and a curse.”

“I can’t wait until she’s old enough to understand what her Auntie Max did for her…for us,” Eddie ruffles her hair as though she’s still fifteen years old instead of twenty-two. “We seriously cannot thank you enough, Red. You…you made us a family.”

The four of you are silent, absorbing all the love that flows between you, until Katie starts babbling and sends you all into a fit of laughter. “She says, ‘it’s time to eat!’” you joke.

And after a long day at Nancy and Jonathan’s, you finally arrive home. You try not to wake Katie when you take her out of her carseat, but she stirs and starts to wail. Muttering a swear word under your breath, you try rocking her back to sleep, but she keeps crying.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, lifting her from your arms. “I know what she wants.” He walks over to the bookshelf and plucks the book of nursery rhymes that he'd bought at the mall two years ago. He sits Katie on his lap, a big hand on her pudgy tummy. “Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall,” he starts, speaking in singsong, “Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.” He raises his eyebrows and gasps dramatically. “Oh, no! What’s gonna happen to Humpty Dumpty?” You smile as he finishes the rhyme, Katie now fully enthralled in the story. Her cries have completely subsided.

Maybe this wasn’t how you intended to become a mom, but now, you can’t imagine life any other way.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson angst #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #requests

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ratskinsuit · 4 months

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I’ve been thinking, since Velvette is something of a third wheel in Vox and Valentino’s relationship, I’d be nice for her to have someone to vent to about the drama that happens with them, or her frustrations with her own job?

Velvette and BestFriend!Reader

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A/N: Hello! So I didn’t know if they had wanted like headcanons or a story so I did headcanons and a short drabble, so i’m so sorry if it’s not what you wanted but I tried! Also I feel like Velvette is such an underrated character, so I am here to give her more love.

———————————————————————

Velvette is one of those friends that you can go to anything with.

Like love struggles? She got you. Need to vent? She got you.

She will try to give advice (may be kind of shitty) but will always try.

But also expect that in this friendship you get to hear all her drama, and please listen to her

Will often come to you complaining about whatever bs Valentino and Vox are in that day

GIRLS NIGHT GIRLS NIGHT (and if you are not a girl or identify other wise it’s just a besties night :) )

During those nights you two will probably be in her apartment (or where ever she lives idk)

Will probably make a nest of blankets and pillows and plushies in the living room, grab a bunch of snacks and shit and just talk about drama with each other

She will get you friendship bracelets

Was kind of embarrassed giving them to you, but if you wear it and rarely ever take it off she will be so happy

She will also spoil you so muchhhh

Need more clothes? Shopping trip. Hungry? She will take you out to eat. Just wanna hang out and cause chaos? Mall.

Body positivity all the way.

If you insult yourself in ANY way, she will immediately start complimenting you and (in an affectionate way) yell at you for putting yourself down.

You two will just boost eachother up, like good vibes all the way.

Will constantly bring you new clothes, makeup (if you wear it) jewelry (if you wear it)

if you ever want like your hair done or nails done, she will do it.

If she has a shitty day at work or is just annoyed, expect her to come over or to be on a call for hours.

And if you also have problems call her she will listen.

I don’t think that she has many friends, and with Valentino and Vox constantly making her the third wheel, having you just makes her so happy

Like you are her person, you are her best friend

And knowing she has you as her best friend makes everything so much easier because she has someone to hang out with, and go to for random things.

She will constantly text you about random things

She won’t be mad if you don’t always text her back but will appreciate it so much if you do

Expect to take so many pictures together (if you don’t like taking pictures she won’t however she will beg, and cherish the ones you do let her have)

She has like a folder of 200+ photos of you together

If you actually listen to her when she is telling you about drama, or his random stuff she will love you forever

If you two ever stop being friends she will probably fall into a very very deep depression, because it’s hard for her to make friends and she was so close to you (please don’t leave her)

SHORT DRABBLE

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You were invited over to Velvettes apartment while she was working, so you two could hang out when she got home.

You are chilling on the couch, scrolling on your phone, when the front door slammed open. You peek over the back of the couch to see Velvette, looking pissed.

“Girl you would not BELIEVE the day I had!” She says, stomping over the the couch, standing infront if you.

“What is it today, Valentino and Vox, shitty models, or just a mix?” You ask, turning off and putting down your phone on the side table, before turning back to look at your best friend.

“Oh.My.God. So first, I come into the Vees headquarters right? And you know what the very first thing I see is? That fucking prissy little bitch VALENTINO and the fucking TV screen whore GETTING AT IT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GODDAMN FOYER.” She says, throwing her hands up, pacing infront of you.

“Seriously? In a public space, first thing in the morning? Those two can’t take a fucking break can they.” You say, a disgusted look on your face.

“I KNOW RIGHT?! And it gets worse. Because my top model apparently got hit by a fucking truck and so she “couldn’t come in today” CAN YOU BELIVE IT. ON THE DAY OF HER PHOTO SHOOT?!” She yells, her hands expressively all over the place.

“Did you manage to get another one in place before the shoot?” You ask, hoping they did because otherwise she will be in a pissy mood for the rest of the day.

“Just barely. Had to take one of the lower ones and make them look less shitty. Luckily I managed.” She says with a sigh.

“Girl you can make a hedgehog look model worthy.” You say, earning a smile from her.

She pauses for a moment, before grabbing your hand. “Come on, we are going to the mall to fuck shit up.” She says, smiling mischievously, and you smile back.

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A/N: I had so much fun making this not even kidding, I feel like Velvette needs a lot more love because she’s such a fun interesting character. I do hope she finds a best friend in the show. Also I love hedgehogs, no insult to the little babies. Hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

#Velvette #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #Velvette and bestfriend!reader #hazbin hotel #Drabble #headcanons #velvette headcanons #velvette Drabble #the vees #vees #hazbin Vees #hazbin hotel Vees #hazbin

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lovebombs4life · 5 months

Text

tis’ the damn season - l.r.h.

a/n: heyyyyyyy… i’ve been gone for a while and i’ve had this in my docs for a while. i thought about making a part two but i think ill keep it like this for now :)

cw: SMUT!!!! car sex, maybe some angst, fluff, pretty cute, involves some drinking/slightly drunk

wc: 3k

not proof read.

———

i shivered slightly as i stepped out of my car, the cold december air nipping at my cheeks and nose. i forgot how cold it got here. i had decided to visit my parents for christmas this year. i hadn’t been in my hometown since senior year of high school. i stepped to the back of my car, grabbing out my suitcase, then closing the trunk.

i rolled my suitcase up the driveway behind me, softly opening the front door of my parents house. i was quickly consumed by the warmth of my childhood home, and the scent of cinnamon and pine. “y/n! i’m so excited that you’re here!” my mother squeezed me into a hug. i smiled and placed my head on her shoulder, taking in her warm embrace.

“i’ve missed you, mom! where’s dad?” i asked, shrugging my coat off. she rolled her eyes, smiling softly. “watching football in the basement, of course. he’s probably fast asleep in his recliner.” she chuckled. i laughed, bringing my suitcase to my old room.

it looked exactly as it did before i left for college. my mother followed behind me, smiling wide. “we kept it all the same. figured it would be a nice trip down memory lane.” she nudged my shoulder. i smiled seeing my room again. id experienced so many things in this room, some good, some bad. i examined the photos sitting on my dresser. i bit my lip seeing one of the photos. i grabbed it, running my thumb over the frame, smiling sadly.

“i didn’t know if you wanted to keep any of those pictures or not,” my mom rest her hand on my shoulder. i shrugged, grabbing her hand. “it’s still all very bittersweet to think about.” i sighed, setting the photo back down. my mom held onto both of my hands, smiling warmly.

“his mom keeps in touch still, every so often we meet for coffee or tea.” my mother spoke, leading me into the kitchen. i sat down a the counter as she looked through the cupboards. she furrowed her brows, moving things around.

“well damn,” she breathed. “thought we had stuff to make homemade hot chocolate. wanna run with me to the store?” she asked, turning around to look at me. i nodded, getting of the stool i sat on. i slipped on my coat, and pulled on my boots, waiting for her to get her boots on too.

“alright, lets go!” she spoke, grabbing her keys off the hook. i smiled at the feeling of christmas nostalgia as i sat in her car. she started the car, cranking up the heat. she turned on the radio, the soft sounds of christmas music playing. as we drove to the little store in town, we reminisced on when i was younger, and how excited i’ve always been for christmas. we pulled into the parking lot of the small grocery store, making our way inside quickly to avoid being cold.

i rubbed my hands together to warm them a bit as my mom grabbed a shopping cart. “okay, first on the list is coco powder, then vanilla extract. those should be pretty close to each other.” my mother spoke as she lead the way to the baking isle. i scanned the shelves, getting distracted by one of my favorite drink mixes. i stopped quickly, grabbing the apple cider mix off the shelf. i walked quickly to where my mother was in the isle, seeing she was talking to someone.

“y/n, god i was just talking to your mum here, i haven’t seen you in years, how are you?” liz pulled me into a hug. i giggled at her happiness. “i’m real well, liz. how’ve you been?” i asked, pulling away from her. i looked into her kind eyes, missing that comfort.

“i’m great! all the boys are home for christmas and-” she was cut off. “hey mum i found the stuffing mix you needed,” his voice was as beautiful as i remembered it. i stood there fiddling with my hands as i watched him speak. sure i’d heard his voice on the radio when his band’s songs would play, but it wasn’t the same as hearing it over the radio. he glanced over at me, doing a double take when he realized it was me.

‘y/n? wow, uhm, hey.” he spoke nervously. i smiled softly, looking down at my feet. we had broken up just before i left for college. his music career was taking off, and we both knew it would be better for us to break it off. i never stopped loving him, hell, if i’m being honest, i never stopped thinking of him.

“hey, lu.” i spoke. his cheeks flushed at the old nickname. our mothers both chuckled at us, seemingly acting like kids again. “why don’t you kids go next door to the little cafe, yeah? we’ll do our shopping and catch up while you two go and get a coffe for yourselves.” liz smiled, nodding her head towards the direction of the cafe. i nodded, smiling at luke.

“y-yeah, okay.” he said shoving his hands into his pockets. i did the same, walking quietly to the cafe with him. “so…” he trailed. i nodded, smiling. “so. how have you been?” i asked, looking at his rosy cheeks. he was always one to get cold quickly. the tip of his nose had already been the same color. he bit his lip, making me notice the lip ring he once had was gone. he breathed in as we sat down at a table together.

“i’m good, erm, we just finished our fifth album a few months ago, were gonna start touring pretty soon.” he twiddled his thumbs around as his hands rested in front of him on the table. i smiled, pushing my hair behind me ear. “i’ve uh, actually been thinking about you, a lot.” he admitted. my cheeks grew warm.

“yeah? ive been thinking of you a lot too.” i spoke softly. he shifted in his seat, his leg bouncing under the table. i put my hand out on his knee, stopping the bouncing. his face grew bright red at the small gesture. “nothing to be nervous about, lu, relax,” i giggled. “it’s just me.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “that’s the thing, its you. i’ve been thinking of you nonstop. i’ve honestly never stopped thinking of you.” he huffed. i lifted my hands to the table, reaching over and grabbing his. he looked up into my eyes. his baby blue eyes twinkled as he watched me. “i haven’t stopped either, lu.” i reassured him. he nodded, his blonde curls bouncing. “you think my mum would be mad if i asked her to ride home with yours so we can take my car and drive around town like we used to?’ he laughed lightly. i smiled, pulling out my phone, texting my mom to ask if they would mind. she quickly replied, telling us to go ahead, and that she'll see me later.

“so, riding around town?” i asked, standing up. he smiled, getting up after me. he lead me to his car. he opened my door for me, making me laugh. i slid into the seat, shivering at the still, cold air. he quickly scurried to the drivers side, starting the car. warm air blew at my face, making me relax. i looked at the buttons on the console, turning on my seat warmer. he chuckled at me. “not used to the cold anymore?” he teased. i tapped his shoulder lightly, rolling my eyes.

“oh hush. cause you’re so used to it still?” i poked at him. he chuckled again. we pulled out of the parking lot, driving through the empty streets. christmas was only a few days away, and i was only staying for a few days. i’d only been with luke for less than a day, but it felt like we’d never been apart.

“no, i swear on it, ashton really thought tadpoles were baby turtles! there’s even a video!” he laughed, i shook my head, gasping for air. we had been driving around for over two hours now, just talking about anything and everything. luke pulled off the road, driving on a trail. i had hardly recognized where we’d been until he stopped and parked.

i blushed, my heart racing slightly. we used to come here all the time for dates. we’d look at the stars and lay on top of his car, or we’d have a picnic. of course, we’d come here when we wanted to be alone. there’s a lot to the imagination of the events that have happened here.

he unbuckled his seat belt, turning himself to look at me. i did the same, looking into his eyes. “i never stopped loving you, y’know.” he spoke shyly. i nodded. “i never stopped loving you.” i grabbed onto his hand. he squeezed it, looking at our intertwined hands.

“a lot of songs were about you.” he blushed, playing with my fingers. i cocked my head. “how many?” i asked, playing with his fingers too.

“all of them.” he spoke flatly. he looked back up at me, his eyes glossy.

“i know that it was a mutual decision, but i always regretted leaving.” he sighed. i watched him as he tried to explain his thoughts. “i thought of you constantly, i still do. every song ive written, it’s been about you. it’s always been you.” he blinked, letting a few tears fall out. my hands lifted to his face, wiping the tears off. i moved my face closer to his, placing a soft kiss on his lips. his breath hitched, his hands traveling to my face.

the kiss was soft, full of passion. our lips melted together, just as they used to. i finally felt whole again, but i knew that this was temporary. soon i would be back home at my own apartment. as i pulled away, my eyes welled up with tears.

he wiped my tears away this time. “luke, i-” he cut me off, kissing me again. “i know. we’re both leaving in a few days. let’s make the most of it, yeah?” he kissed my forehead. i nodded. leaning my head against him. he snaked his arm around me.

“let’s remember the good times.” he pulled me out of my seat, making me giggle. i was on top of his lap, his face was red. he pushed his seat back, my hands falling atop of his chest. he grabbed my waist. my heart fluttered. i shifted my waist around on top of his. he groaned softly, guiding my waist to grind on him. i gasped as he pressed me down, the pressure making me shiver.

“fuck, y/n, been so long, keep that up and i’ll cum soon.” he whined, lifting my hips. i moaned at his words, my hands making their way to his waist, fumbling with his belt. he lifted his hips allowing me to slide his jeans down.

his hands found the button to my jeans, his hands sliding inside. i gasped as he pressed his hand against my bundle of nerves, my thighs trying to close against his hand. i pulled down his boxers, letting his cock free. i swiped my thumb along his tip, making his hips buck.

“no more teasing from now on, just wanna be inside you.” he moaned, pulling my jeans down my thighs, moving my panties to the side. he guided himself to my slit, rubbing against my clit as he did so, making my hips jolt. his other hand grasped my waist, making me stay still.

i moaned softly as his tip pushed inside me, both his hands now on my hips. i lowered myself on him, my head throwing back as he filled me up. “shit, feels so good, lu.” i cried, slowly rocking my hips. his grip tightened as i moved, his hands encouraging me to go faster. i began gasping for air as i bounced on him, his hips thrusting up to meet mine. “gonna cum, feels so fucking good, luke.” i choked. he groaned, pulling me down so my chest was to his. i hid my face in his neck, sucking and biting at his skin. his pace got faster as he fucked into me, my moans coming out in small gasps and sounds.

“come on baby, doing so, fuck, so good, love how you’re squeezing my cock,” he praised, my walls clenching around him as i got closer to my release. “cum on my cock, darling, wanna know how good i make you feel.” he kissed my shoulder. my orgasm washed over me, screams of pleasure erupting from my lips. he helped me ride out my high, pulling out from me soon after.

he kept my hips moving, grinding against his cock. he bit his lip and rolled back his eyes as hot ropes of cum shot from his cock onto his stomach and shirt. he slowed my pace, holding me as our bodies stilled. his hands traveled to my back, rubbing it as we tried to catch our breath. his fingers traveled to my hair, playing with it, stroking my head as i nuzzled into his chest.

we laid there for a few minutes before shuffling around, pulling our pants back up, and getting situated. he quickly pulled me back to him afterwards, holding me tight. i knew he was scared of losing me again too. i allowed myself to enjoy what time i had with him, even if it would only be a few days.

i looked at the window, seeing it was fogged up. i lifted my head to look at the other ones, seeing that they too were all fogged up. i giggled softly, thinking of how we caused that.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, smiling at me as i looked at him. i swiped my finger across the window. “we caused that.” this time he giggled, pulling me back into his chest. he kissed the top of my head before letting me get back into my seat. “what are we gonna do after our short time together is gone?” i questioned. he bit his lip, his eyes filled with sadness.

“i don’t know. i don’t want to say goodbye again.” he sighed, grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers. i wracked my brain trying to find ways we could keep seeing each other. “me either. know what? let’s not think about that for tonight, okay? we’ll figure it out later.” i spoke, squeezing his hand and giving him a soft smile.

he nodded, grabbing his seatbelt and buckling himself. i did the same before he put the car back in drive, making our way back to town. we were only about fifteen minutes away from my house, and ten minutes away from his. we sang along to the christmas songs on the radio, holding one another's hand. “would you like to stay for dinner?” i asked him as we pulled into my driveway. he smiled, unbuckling his seat belt and turning off the car. “i’d love to.” he said, getting out of the car quickly so he could open my door for me. i rolled my eyes at him playfully, leading him to the front door. i swung the door open, hearing soft music playing in the kitchen and laughing from my mother. we walked to where she was, seeing that my parents and luke’s parents were both sitting at the kitchen table, each with a glass of wine in hand,

“well how wonderful it is that you two are here! would you like some wine?” my mother asked, standing up to grab two more glasses. i smiled at her, nodding. she poured the dark maroon liquid into the glasses, handing them to luke and i. we sat down with everyone, getting lost in conversation. once dinner had been done, and we’d all eaten, luke’s parents had gotten in their car and drove down the street to go home. my parents went off to bed, leaving luke and i alone in the living room, sipping on more wine.

we were sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch. my feet rest in his lap, giggling as i started to feel the effects of the alcohol running through my body. “your face is cute.” i said, stroking luke’s cheek. he nuzzled his face into my hand, his skin flushed from the wine.

“you’re drunk.” he giggled, kissing my palm. i smiled lazily, leaning my head against the couch. i stared at his features, taking in his beauty.

“so are you.”

he nodded, a goofy smile on his face. i downed the last bit of my wine, setting the glass on the floor next to me. “time for bed?” i asked him, slowly getting up. he nodded, rubbing his eyes. i grabbed his hand to lift him up, but he lost balance while doing so, the last of his wine spilling onto my white sweater.

he gasped, immediately apologizing. i giggled, waving it off. “doesn’t matter, just gives it character.”

i pulled him to my room, grabbing out a new sweater for myself. i found an old pair of his sweatpants, throwing them to him. he thanked me, sliding his jeans off, and pulling on the gray fabric.

i gripped the hem of my sweater, pulling it over my head. i threw it into the small basket in my room, and unclipped my bra, throwing it where my sweater was. i pulled the new clean clothing over my head, and threw on a pair of leggings.

luke already crawled into my bed, curled up under the blankets. i smiled at the site, crawling in next to him. i wrapped my arms around him, spooning him. he smiled softly, grabbing one of my hands and kissing it. we drifted off to sleep, enjoying the warmth from each others bodies.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings smut #luke 5sos

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iamthecomet · 6 months

Note

-flops down in your inbox and rolls around-

Happy the day after Christmas (not to date this ask lmao), I come bearing the gift of "and there was only one bed" style Dew/your ghoul of choice shenanigans.

So, set-up: Dew and -insert ghoul here- had to go away on some ministry business, maybe they went with a whole group of people or it's just the two of them alone, but either way they wind up having to stay a couple days longer due to the weather being shit back home, making it kind of risky to head back now as they'd be driving into a storm or something.

Anyway, they wind up having to move hotels since the one they're at is booked solid past their original check out date, and they wind up at a smaller hotel -paid for on the ministry's dime, because neither of them feel like they should have to given the circumstances- which leads to the whole, "and there was only one bed" scenario.

Originally, they both had separate rooms, it was a small enough group that the ministry was like, "Yeah, sure, have as much space as you need." but now they've only got one room, and, man, is it weird sharing a confined space with someone else, especially if the two are maybe not on great terms at the moment.

Maybe they fought or they're just not sure about each other yet so it's uncomfortable, but either way one of them is constructing a pillow barrier in the bed on day one... which eventually turns into them spooning on day three or four depending on how long you wanna drag it out for.

Added bonus: Since they're technically not working or on call for anything, they have time to do some shopping/touristy things they didn't get to chance to do on the initial trip, and keep getting asked if they're a couple, because they're carrying each others bags, giving opinions on outfits along the lines of, "Yeah, but it covers up your ass. You have a nice ass, you should flaunt it more." and, "Oh, shut it, you look lovely. Blue is a good color on you!"

Also sharing their food, holdings hands -"SO WE DON'T LOSE EACH OTHER IN THE CROWD!"- and watching other people on dates and going, "Aw, I wanna do that..."

Something, something, Dew doing cheesy romantic gestures to feed into the "joke" that they're on a date, getting the same cheesy romantic gestures in return as a "joke" and both of them catching feelings and nervously realizing that maybe they... they like that kind of stuff when it's that person doing it.

Anywho.

-flips onto my front and sleeps-

*tip-toeing around, trying not to wake you* You're giving me Aeon/Dew thoughts. Dew not so sure about the new quint ghoul. Being stuck with him on this trip to begin with has been frustrating and difficult. Trying to navigate his feelings about there being a new quint at all AND trying to make sure Aeon doesn't do anything stupid since he's still adjusting to life topside. (His glamor only slips once though, Dew has to give him that). And I think Aeon's inexperience is what leads Dew to be like "ok fine let's go do some stuff". Might as well take advantage of their time. But also show the new ghoul a thing or two. Let him buy himself some stuff he actually likes. But also, Dew is glued to him. He's not losing the new ghoul. He's not having that over his head. So they are attached at the hip. Whispering to each other and sitting close together at restuarant tables. Always touching. Less and less pillows in the barrier every night. You could even throw my favorite part of the "one bed" trope in there. Aeon shivering on his side of the bed. Curled up tight, but so cold he's shaking the bed and keeping Dew up. So, Dew just grabs him. Curls an arm around his waist and hauls him backwards, his back to Dew's unnaturally warm chest. Dew ramping up his heat little just to make sure the other ghoul stays warm.

He tells himself it's just because he can't have Aeon freezing to death on his watch--he doesn't want to get sent back to the pit. But really, it's just nice to have someone to hold.

#comet comments #lamp #aeon/dew #dewdrop ghoul #AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

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gloomzi · 5 months

Note

THIS MAY BE BASED OFF A SAM C AI BOT I TALKED TO BUT OML ILL LOVE TO SEE YOU WRITE IT

This will take time after Sam escapes and is in readers dorm.

The reader ends up taking Sam out to a local place like Walmart because earlier Sam said he wanted to get out for once a be a normal person. But the reader wasn't one to get out themselves or evening party, so they did the best they could. Take sam to Walmart. Once arriving the reader pulls out a shopping cart, looking over at sam with a half smile "wanna get in and I push you around?" Which leads sam being pushed around a Walmart in a shopping cart by the reader. So they takes him down different isle with the frozen snacks, spicy chips, drinks, etc and this kid looks like he is in mfing disney land but the characters are actually the characters.

(I ended up taking sam to the toy isle and he picked out a monster high doll and I educated him on the lore to which he picked frankine. Boy got taste)

waaah thank u for the request! sry it took longer than expected, shit just kept coming up in my life TvT but regardless i hope u enjoy it!

WORD COUNT 2622

WARNINGS is primarily fluff but ends on a bit of a hurt/comfort note (sry), prose heavy

Ever since Sam had started staying in your dorm, he had been asking to go out and do something normal for once—nothing big, just something to get him out of the building, like grocery shopping or going to a party. Something where nobody would be paying attention to the people around them or would be too drunk to remember anyways.

Unfortunately for him, you were a bit too paranoid about your current predicament to want to bring him out in public—you wished that you could, but you knew all too well the lengths others would go to to hurt Sam, to bring him back to the woods, and you didn’t want to risk that—and you didn’t really have friends that were the partying type anyways. Or well, not anymore. Not since that last party where Andre nearly killed someone and Marie was almost expelled.

So, that left you with two options: keep telling Sam no while he gets more and more frustrated at being stuck in your cramped dorm room with little entertainment, or drive him far enough out of town that there was a decreased chance of him getting caught.

You chose the latter.

As soon as you came back from classes that Friday, you were throwing an oversized hoodie at the boy and a plastic package containing black face masks, “C’mon Sam, we’re going on a trip!”

He was ecstatic, immediately dropping whatever it was he was holding—upon second glance you realized it was a few of your minifigs, embarrassing—to get dressed.

Seeing him struggle to change into his not so stellar disguise, you giggled, helping him tug the edge of the hoodie off his elbow where it had been stuck and over his stomach, flattening the fabric for him before handing him a cheap pair of readers off your desk and the masks which had fallen to the floor.

“Ground rules, Sam, okay? We’re going to be heading out of town, but until we cross town lines you have to keep all of this on, got it? And when we get there you can’t leave my side, you gotta stay where I can see you.” You said, watching as he slipped on the glasses, which were, admittedly, a bit silly looking on him, but it was endearing in a way.

Sam nodded quickly, grinning down at you, “Yeah, yeah, of course! Whatever you say!” Sam paused, tearing open the packaging on the masks before looking back up at you, “Where are we going again…?”

You chuckled, turning on your heel to switch your school bag out for a smaller one, stuffing your necessities in it, “Walmart, honey. You been before? When you were younger maybe?”

Sam hummed, thinking for a second before shrugging, “I mean, probably…the name sounds familiar, but I don’t really remember.”

You found that Sam didn’t mind talking about stuff he remembered from before The Woods or Sage Grove Center, in fact he usually recalled those times fondly, but his memory seemed pretty spotty before then.

“Fair enough,” You shrugged back, “Ready to go?” You held out a hand for him to grab, tugging your bag onto your shoulder with your other hand.

Sam nodded, smiling softly and taking your hand, allowing you to lead him out of the building and to the parking lot.

Not many students on campus had cars, you yourself having only got one from your parents which you pay them back for monthly, meaning it was fairly easy to find where you had parked earlier in the week. Your car was on the older side, nowhere near glamorous—the thing didn’t even have an aux cord, so CDs were practically your life line now—but it ran well enough and you kept it clean and nicely decorated, from bumper stickers to stuffies in the backseat.

Sam peaked in the window, seemingly intrigued by the unreasonable amount of plush toys taking up space, but quickly snapped out of it when you pulled open the passenger door, waving him in.

You rounded the car quickly, hopping in and starting it up so you could show Sam how the radio worked and help him readjust his seat until he was comfortable.

“See, you can pull this thing right here backwards or forwards to bring your seat closer or further away from the dash, and if you pull this other one behind it it’ll adjust the back of your seat to recline more.” You guided him, holding your hand over his to make sure he felt where everything was, “And if you want to change any of the CDs, I keep all of mine right here in the center console, you just need to hit this eject button here to take out one and then the load button to put in the new one!”

Sam nodded along, asking questions about your CDs and which ones you liked best, fiddling with the volume to hear better before settling on one.

“Alright, ready to go now? Seatbelt on?”

“Yeah, let's go!”

Pulling out of the parking lot, you and Sam talked lightly, him mostly staring out the window and asking questions about the town and little stores you passed while you focused on driving, answering with fond amusement.

The drive was a bit longer than you were used to making, but you had to get out of town, so you knew it would be at least an hour, CDs seeming to come and go faster than you remember them being, though you guessed it might have something to do with Sam being there to talk over them.

By the time you had made it to the Walmart Sam had changed out of his sad excuse for a disguise, the hoodie being thrown into your backseat in favor of just wearing a white long sleeve with a graphic tee over it, glasses tucked into your sunglasses compartment and mask shoved into your glovebox. Both of you were getting a bit hungry at this point, so you felt relieved to see there was a Dunkin inside the Walmart as well, ordering you and Sam some hash browns and a vanilla bean coolatta to split.

Just based on his reaction you could tell he wasn’t used to having anything as sweet as that drink, his lips puckering as his eyes went wide, “Jesus christ, this shit must be loaded with sugar!”

“Oh yeah, that’s why we’re splitting it, I’d get sick otherwise,” You laughed, “You like it though, right? If not, I can buy you something else.”

“No, no, it’s really good! I like it!”

You hummed in acknowledgement, starting to walk towards the carts, knowing Sam would follow. Grabbing one of the large carts, you tapped the side, “Wanna get in? I’ll push you around.”

Sam’s eyes lit up, as he practically bounced up to the cart, “Hell yeah!” He cheered, throwing a leg over the side, cart wobbling lightly as you tried to hold it steady before he finally fell the rest of the way in, drink held in the air to keep it safe.

You giggled, holding your hand out for the drink so you could take a sip before handing it back to him, “Do you want to get some snacks for the dorm first? Anything you want as long as it’s not ridiculously expensive.”

Sam nodded, sipping on the drink once more with a small smile. He looked like a kid on Christmas, eyes lit up as he looked at practically every item you came across, trying to decide whether or not he liked the sound of different chip flavors and microwave noodles.

Maybe I should just get him one of those mini stoves that plugs into the wall…does he even know how to cook though? Probably not. You thought, rolling the cart into the drinks aisle and grabbing a case of water bottles.

“Hey, do you know how to cook?” You asked, starting to push the cart again. You had cleared all the food aisles, so now you just needed to grab him some clothes and maybe check out the toy aisles too. You always liked looking for figurines and board games in there, Sam would probably like that stuff too if you had to venture a guess.

“Sort of? My mom taught me simple stuff when I was younger.”

You nodded, “I can show you how to do some other stuff then, I’ll just have to get you something to cook with in the dorm.”

“Thank you…” Sam muttered, pursing his lips like he had more to say, but decided against it. You didn’t push. If Sam really wanted to say something, he’d say it in due time.

Finally arriving in the men’s section, you pushed the cart to the side, motioning for Sam to get out. He looked confused, but got out anyway, clambering over the side with about as much grace as a baby deer.

“You’re gonna have to try stuff on or at least hold it up to your frame to make sure it fits,” You said.

“Ohh, okay.” He said, putting the coolatta down in the cart’s baby seat.

For the next few minutes you watched him pick out clothes and hold them up to himself, pulling them on over his own shirt occasionally, but mostly just sizing up if he was unsure. He didn’t seem too picky, but you could tell he liked the more colorful patterns, only picking up darker clothes for “outings”, as he kept referring to them. He even picked up a few anime shirts, asking if you were familiar with the shows and if they were any good before deciding to just get a Naruto shirt anyways, thinking the design was cute, which got a hearty laugh out of you.

You made sure he picked out some sweaters and sleep clothes as well, boxers and socks, a few pairs of jeans and a pair of sturdy shoes, since his old ones were pretty beat up. The perks of working a part time job while having only a couple expenses meant you could pretty much splurge on him all you wanted and thank god for that, you didn’t know if you had the heart to say no to him.

After he had been satisfied with all his selections he had climbed back into the cart, pushing the growing pile of stuff around until it surrounded him like a nest of clothes and food.

“Do you want to check out the toys now? Or maybe some books?” You asked, lightly pushing him through the rows between the aisles. You figured you would be passing the section anyways and you had caught him reading once or twice in your room, maybe he’d want something newer.

“Could we do both? I think I’ve read through most of your collection already and Emma doesn’t have anything that isn’t from 2013 or earlier,” He groaned.

You huffed a laugh, smacking at his shoulder, “Just because Emma is reliving her YA fantasy doesn’t mean you get to shit on her taste!”

Sam whined dramatically, rubbing his shoulder as if you had actually hurt him, “Owww, careful or I’ll never even make it to the books!”

“‘Owww, careful’,” You mocked, snorting, “go pick out a book you menace!”

Sam rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the grin on his face as he climbed back out of the cart, perusing the aisle, muttering to himself about each book.

As he looked at the books you watched fondly, leaning against the cart until he was finished debating and set two thick hardcovers into the growing pile of items surrounding the empty spot he quickly climbed back into.

“To the toys!” Sam whooped, fist pumping the air as you pushed off in the direction of the aisle.

You giggled, ruffling his hair, “To the toys!”

As soon as the aisles of toys came into view Sam was practically throwing himself out of the cart, tripping over his shoes until he was picking up a couple Barbie dolls, looking them over with excitement, “How many can I get?”

“How about we look at everything and then you pick out a few, okay? I can always get you more if you want.”

Sam nodded, beginning to saunter down the aisles, not checking to see if you were following as he picked things off the shelves to inspect before putting them back. After what was probably 10 or so minutes he started going back through the aisles and making his final selections, at which time you decided to actually look at some of the games and cheaper action figures.

By now you were pretty confident he wouldn’t wander off so you didn’t mind turning your back to him, grabbing a couple packs of cards to replace ones that had been ruined by a drunk Jordan months ago.

Shuffling a bit to the side you crouched down to check out some of the board games, tracing your finger over the price strips as you checked each one. Just as you pulled out one of the monopoly boards you heard Sam’s voice from across the aisle, anger clearly laced into his words, though he was quiet enough that you couldn’t make out the whole sentence.

Standing slowly, you padded over to the boy, making sure you were loud enough that he heard you approaching before you crouched at his side, a hand sliding over his back to squeeze at his shoulder, “You good?”

Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders wracking as he exhaled before a small no fell from his lips, the plastic packaging on the doll he was holding creasing under his hold.

“Did you want her?” You asked softly, your other hand sliding over his wrist softly to ease the toy out of his grip. It was a Ghoulia doll.

Sam nodded shakily, letting you take the doll and place it in the cart before you went back to help him up, “You wanna go now?” You asked softly, already knowing the answer, but wanting to give him the choice rather than just saying you were leaving. He was quick to nod.

“Let’s go through self checkout then, okay?”

Sam nodded once more, shuffling to stand by you, one of his hands looping around your arm as you started to push the cart.

You weren’t exactly surprised the trip was ending like this, Sam was still easily overwhelmed by new things, not to mention his still untreated illnesses. It wasn’t the first time you had taken him out to buy something and he had been triggered or had a hallucination, but you didn’t mind helping him through it in any way you could. He still needed to get out sometimes, if not for him to start to readjust to normal society outside The Woods, then for him to pick out his own things. You didn’t want him to keep living like a prisoner who didn’t even get his clothes anymore, let alone a choice in his dinner or snacks.

As soon as you got to the self checkout Sam let go of your arm, letting you ring up everything and bag it as he watched in relative silence, tugging at strands of his hair in an attempt to self regulate. Once you had finished paying, you were quick to lead him back to the car.

Just as you were pulling open his door, you just barely caught the sound of him speaking, his voice wavering, “‘M sorry, (Y/N).”

Shaking your head, you reached up to cup the side of his face, tucking his hair behind his ear, “You did good, Sam, really. There’s no need to be sorry, these things happen. Let’s just get home now, okay?”

#icky.txt #icky.fics #sam riordan imagine #sam riordan x reader #gen v x reader #gen v fanfiction #gen v imagine #x reader #imagine

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