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2000sangel · 4 days ago

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MR. ANT TENNA / BIG SHOT SPAMTON X READER - DRABBLE COMMISSIONS

This is the second part to this post!

for @merinomeri ☆ divider at the end by : bronzewasp

Your and Tenna’s laughter echoes through the large bedroom, before you playfully shush him and reach for his shoulder to shake him around a bit.

It’s late, both in the Dark and the Light World, and everyone at the studio has already gone home or settled into their private room, like you and your partner have. Before switching realities earlier, you wouldn’t have thought to have the energy to laugh so loud, considering how tedious work has been for the past few weeks or so…but Tenna somehow always manages to turn things around;

“AHah…-OOF- hey! No shaking your CRT, please!” he lightheartedly hisses, pretending to have to keep his screen still.

You giggle at his antics before a yawn escapes your mouth; Tenna, feeling quite tired himself, takes that as cue to grab the book you have been reading -and reciting- together before bed and place it on his nightstand. He has to grow his size a little to be able to reach the light switch; once the lights are off, only his screen illuminates the room…just enough for you to make out where the pillow is and lie down.

“You gave me a headache…” you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

Your partner’s antennas straighten up in worry;

“Really?” he asks; he’s aware that, after all, staring at a screen for too long is no good for Lightners. Maybe he should dim his brightness when he’s around you at night. Or perhaps he should stand a bit more far away from you…a very hard task, considering how much reassurance he finds from simply being in your proximity.

But your gentle laugh, once again, breaks his train of thoughts and reassures him that you’re just messing around.

“Nah…I think it’s retail making my head hurt. I told you already, it’s been a struggle lately. Good thing tomorrow’s my day off…”

Tenna listens attentively, before taking notice of your position; you’re lying on your back and, by what your relaxed expression suggests, you’re not far off from falling asleep right then and there.

Carefully, he places his hand on the side of your waist, and slides it forward until it’s on the small of your back:

“Sleep on your side, darling. Wouldn’t want any monsters under my bed to get you!”

You’re once again amused by his jokes, and follow his guidance until you’re positioned comfortably enough. Tenna doesn’t remove his hand; instead, he decides to lie down next to you and almost cage you with his broader figure. It’s fine by you, his room is not too cold but also not hot enough for closeness to be a bother, and besides, you’re used to his clinginess when it’s around bed time.

The soft buzzing of his screen lulls you to sleep soon enough, just as the softness of your breath helps him easily drift off, all the worries from your jobs and personal lives dissipating if just for as long as a short night spent in the comforting company of each other.

Spamton shifts so he's completely facing away from you, knocking a few painting supplies off the couch; they roll around your shared living room, making your head jolt up.

“Spam, I'm not looking! Relax!” you chuckle at his behavior, it seems this activity you've chosen to do together is as serious as can be for him.

He rolls his eyes in defeat, and picks up the luckily clean brushes and small paint tubes scattered on the floor -still keeping his canvas from facing you, of course-.

After this short interaction, you go back to your paintings of each other in comfortable silence, only occasionally asking the other for a specific color you're missing or such small things.

It's cute seeing Spamton so concentrated on something so simple; Spamton, who is always so put together and professional in his role of businessman…now deep into the task at hand: painting a portrait of you, his partner, in his endearingly simple style, which has always reminded you of those illustrated children's books.

You're pouring all your efforts into his portrait, too, making sure you paint his neatly slicked back black hair right and that you add the right amount of saturation to his pink and yellow glasses, currently resting on the bridge of his nose, sliding down once in a while due to his posture as he adds every single detail.

You catch each other staring once in a while;

“Like what you see?” he asks teasingly, and you reach for his folded legs with your foot to kick him in a light-hearted manner.

“I know, I'm pretty.” is your go-to comment when he's the one caught staring, and he scoffs as if it isn’t the truest statement he’s ever heard.

Paint and colors mix together on your canvases as the whole afternoon goes by and, just before dinner, you both get your drawings done.

Warmth can’t help but spread through your cheeks as you study the way Spamton has painted you, and he does the same thing with your portrait of him. You’re both standing in a mess of brushes and splotches of paint on the floor as the corners of his mouth turn upright in a genuine smile, not the big-shot one you’re so used to seeing.

“...So, uh…like what you see, mister?” You ask, playfully imitating his words from earlier.

Your boyfriend gives a hearty laugh, before correcting himself with a cough and going back to being more composed.

“Quite. I also notice you find me very [pretty cool, huh?].” his speech quirk makes him wince as it often does, even though he knows you don’t mind it at all.

“Touchè.”

You both give one last laugh and gaze at the portraits before taking notice of the chaos surrounding you. Seems like you and Spamton will be busy with something after dinner, before you can finally get to hanging up the canvases…once you’ve made up your minds and agreed on where to put them in the first place, that is.

#deltarune #x reader #deltarune x reader #tenna x reader #mr. ant tenna x reader #mr. ant tenna #tenna #spamton #spamton g spamton #spamton x reader #big shot spamton #big shot spamton x reader

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1dmonthlyficroundup · 5 days ago

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— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2025! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Finding Pieces We Can Fit by larryftnoctrl / @the-larry-way [E, 119k, Louis/Harry]

At 32 years of age, Louis admits defeat in the search for a life partner. His mother introduces him to a similarly disillusioned but still hopelessly romantic Harry. These two forces collide and collude in the best and worst of ways, determined to make things work.

Miso cannot be bothered by their shenanigans. She can see the writing on the wall.

＊ Radiant by larryftnoctrl / @the-larry-way [T, 270 words, Harry/Louis]

Harry calls Louis after Soccer Aid.

＊ sun (series) by @disgruntledkittenface [NR, 300 words, Louis/Harry]

Girl direction, exes to lovers, American au

＊ red by @tracksuitponytail [T, 100 words, Harry/Louis]

A Glastonbury drabble feat. one very special garment

＊ grip by @tracksuitponytail [T, 100 words, Louis/Harry]

A thigh, a grip, a boyfriend on the phone.

Or: Louis climbing the barricade, a drabble.

＊ Float darling by harrysboy / @calumsboy [T, 1k, Harry/Louis]

Harry’s eyes flutter open, eyes adjusting in the dark to see him. Louis. His eyes are gazing sleepily at him, pupils dilated and a star of love in each of them. Harry smiles.

The world feels a lot different right now. There isn’t anything to worry about or think about outside of this bedroom. It’s just him and, more in the focal-point of his mind, Louis. Harry likes it this way. He likes feeling this way. It’s warm.

or, a little drabble about louis giving harry aftercare and it meaning the world to him.

＊ Cannonball by @haztobegood [G, 100 words, Louis/Harry]

Harry reads by the pool.

＊ Roller Coaster by @kingsofeverything [G, 100 words, Harry/Louis]

Harry’s afraid of roller coasters, Louis holds his hand.

＊ Nothing's Ever Set In Stone by @lululawrence [NR, 8k, Louis/Pedro Pascal]

Unknown: Hey, is this Louis? I’m Pedro, the owner of the car you hit this morning

After a quick back and forth during which Louis apologized repeatedly, he thought that would be it. He was glad that Pedro was being so nice about it, but he figured they'd said everything they needed to and it would probably come to a close soon with Louis never hearing from him again. Which was fine.

Maybe if they ever ran into each other and figured out who the other was while in the neighborhood, they could be somewhat friendly. They weren’t incredibly close to each other, but Louis walked past the guy’s house at least a few times a week with Clifford, usually in the evening before bed. It wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility.

But the conversation didn’t end. At least, not the way Louis expected it to.

＊ all we need is music by localopa / @voulezloux [T, 4k, Harry/Louis]

in honor the 40th anniversary of live aid, solo artists harry styles and louis tomlinson decide to recreate the dancing in the street music video done then by mick jagger and david bowie. the only problem is harry and louis don’t exactly like each other all that much.

＊ Loss Prevention by Anonymous [E, 5k, Louis/Harry]

There's a price to pay when you're caught stealing, and Louis makes sure Harry pays it.

＊ Some Things Just Make Sense by @louislittletomlintum [E, 21k, Zayn/Harry/Louis]

“What do you reckon?” Zayn asked him curiously.

“What? About you?” Louis countered, raising an eyebrow and rolling a bit of the beer sticker between his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Zayn shrugged. He squeezed his ankle, causing a small shiver to run through Louis’ leg.

“Reckon you could be,” Louis shrugged back, side-eyeing Zayn and smirking a bit cheekily when he saw that his joke landed, still pretending like his beer label was much more interesting than Zayn.

“Reckon I could be what?” Zayn pressed, clearly willing to play.

“Could be lovely,” Louis answered, looking back up at him. “Could be an arsehole, dunno. Would have to know you a bit better before I could say,”

or the one where louis winds up dating zayn whilst also dating harry. it's okay though, since harry is also dating zayn. maybe they should all just date one another and be done with it.

＊ Don't Delete The Kisses by @louislittletomlintum [T, 5k, Louis/Harry]

The first time that Louis realised he was in love with Harry it was with a fag hanging half out of his mouth and staring in through a grubby kitchen window, caked in years of debris.

five times louis is longing and one time he isn't

＊ The Sun Knows We're In Love (series) by @homosociallyyours [G, 600 words, Harry/Louis]

At his family's new beach house, Harry meets Louis for the first time.

＊ Let Me Put Some Country (In You) by @wishingforloushair [E, 10k, Louis/Harry]

“Tarnation. That was mighty rude of me.” Louis stares at him for a long moment, his eyes dragging across Harry’s hat and down to the decorations on the table. “Say, Harry, is it? You seem like the kind of guy who would go buck wild for a pipe of onion rings. D’y’all have a hankering? On the house?” “Uh,” Harry frowns, trying to make sense of what Louis is offering. “What?” Louis’ smile falters for a fraction of a second before it comes back just as strong. He cocks his hip slightly, hooking his free thumb over his belt near the alarmingly large buckle depicting a bronze Texas longhorn bull head. “Pipe of onion rings, on the house, darlin’.”

Harry as the Man of Honour has planned Eleanor’s hen do at The Steers and Stripes, London’s number one Wild West themed restaurant. Their waiter, dressed in his tight jeans, chaps, spurs, and cowboy hat with a dubious at best grip on the grammar of slang, makes Harry think he might have a little bit of a thing for country boys after all. Of course, there’s only one way to prove it when the bar has a mechanical bull…

＊ Forget The Time by Worldsofdreamers / @defences-down [M, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Greece! is the word and the destination.

Or The band travels to Greece to play a festival, and if there were any hinges left, the bag got lost between London and Athens. Part 20 of Chasing The Clouds

- Fic Fests -

＊ 1D Aro/Ace Fic Fest / ao3 / Masterpost / @1daroaceficfest

A One Direction Fic Fest centred around all the identities on the aromantic and asexual spectrum

＊ 1D Drabble Challenge / ao3 / Masterpost / @larrydrabble

100 word stories. All 1D pairings welcome

#28th appreciation #trackinghome #1dficvillage #july2025

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leclarifies · 9 months ago

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mon ange (CL16)

✰ charles leclerc x !childhoodbestfriend !raceengineer reader ✰

summary: you've been there for charles since day one, even when you think he doesn't notice it, you're always there. supporting him from the sidelines.

wc: 1.6k

genre: lots of angst, drabble

aria's note: short but angsty draft i've had since last year. only gotten around to editing and posting now. not sure if i'll ever extend this or do a part 2, HAHAH. this is also written in third person bc it was from so long ago. no mentions of y/n either. enjoy the angst masochists <3 (also mon ange means my angel)

“are you ready?”

she stopped staring out into the open and finally looked at her colleague, head was elsewhere.

she gave a brief smile, and a nod and the race commenced.

race engineer, not a bad title right?

her mind wanders off a tiny bit to the past as the cars raced off into the distance.

“when i’m old enough, i’m going to race for the top teams in the world!” she could hear charles’ big laugh as she was sitting on the grass.

transported back in time, they were spending time with each other, just the two of them. it was a normal occasion for them to just sit in the dark, together sharing laughs and stories after a karting race.

she just looked over fondly at charles as he zoomed around, pretending he was in his kart, “did you see me, mon ange? i was zooming like this— and WHOOSH, i was like this!”

she cocked an eyebrow, “are you sure? i thought you crashed into a wall,” she joked, pretending she wasn’t there but she was there for every moment of the race. not wanting to miss her best friend’s races.

she was his biggest supporter and he knew it.

time flashes again as you two have your first big argument.

“you don’t get it!” charles yelled as he turned his back to her, “you will never get the pressure of any of this! you just tell me what’s good for me and you never understand! you’re not my anything! you don’t mean anything to me!” as those words left his lips, he instantly regretted it.

he turned around to face her.

the look of hurt on her as she began to turn around and walk off without a singular word, “i didn’t mean it! i didn’t mean it!” charles follows her, tears start streaming down her face. she only wanted what was good for him, racing was taking a toll on him and he didn’t realize it but the more she cared, the more she felt like he pushed her away.“i swear, i didn’t mean it. please-!” he begged as he grabbed her wrist, finally turning her around to see her tear-streaked face, flushed with hurt and anger, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he repeated again and again as he took her into his arms, patting her head as they embraced each other.

“racing has changed you, charles…” she mumbles, sniffling.

“ever since ferrari took you under their wing…”

“i-i haven’t changed… it’s just the stress from all these people and all these investors wanting to see me win-“

“and it’s changed you,” she had said, eyes still red from the crying, speaking the term of endearment softly, “you are no longer the soft and kind-hearted charles i knew before all of this happened.”

“maybe it’s best if i stayed away.”

and as her flashback ended, she heard charles speak on the radio, “radio check,” he mutters, trying to focus on his race but still wanting to hear her voice after what happened earlier between the two of them.

“loud and clear,” she replied back as she monitored the first few laps of his race, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander off again towards their childhood.

after their big argument, she did distance herself away from charles but never missing his races. always there, even though she didn’t make it obvious or even told him that she was coming.

she was still his #1 biggest supporter, he just didn’t know it anymore.

podium after podium turned into win after win and she was there to witness it all.

she distanced herself from charles and he didn’t even try to stop it. it was like he meant what he said when they last spoke to each other.

she didn’t mean anything to him.

but god, did he mean something to her.

her mom had told her countless of times to just go up and talk to him after his race win but she knew to keep her distance. it had been a few months since she had last talked to him, it’d be useless to come up to him now but she made it her life’s mission to continue supporting him from the sidelines. she had dedicated her life to become a ferrari race engineer, one day be his race engineer.

she didn’t notice it either, but charles knew. he knew she was always there to support him, he knew she cared.

he would give anything to just come up to her and just hug her, apologizing a million times but he didn’t want to force her to talk to him when she wasn’t ready.

“hello? is everything alright there?” charles’ voice comes through the radio, she snaps out of it before replying, “yeah sorry…” she silently cursed herself before paying attention to the monitor, realizing what he had asked, for positions and plans, “sainz is behind you. try to keep pace and defend each other,” she had spoke softly as charles listened closely.

following her orders, and finally focusing on the rest of the race, she helped them win a double podium.

she was so proud of the two drivers, she watched from the garage as they celebrated at the stage with the rest of the ferrari crew.

her mind wandered off to their earlier argument.

“all i’m saying is that you have to take care of yourself, get yourself a new hobby,” she had started, “circulating your whole life around racing isn’t healthy—“

“i am nothing without racing!”

“yes, you are a beautiful person without racing, you just have to realize that.”

“no one will love me without racing!”

“i have always loved you even before racing…”

“you know nothing! you have always been like this! since we were kids,” charles threw words at her, eyes sharp, unforgiving, “you always tell me what’s best for me like you know me so well— we haven’t talked to each other in years! what do you know what’s good for me???” he growled as she stayed silent, she shouldn’t have opened her mouth in the first place.

she felt defeated and just sighed and muttered out, “i’m sorry, okay? it won’t happen again,” quietly as she left the hotheaded charles, he always regretted what he said when he was mad to her, ever since he started racing, the anger was uncontrollable. the amount of hurtful words he’s thrown at her was unforgivable at that point.

she was snapped back into reality as she realized that the interview session was over and everyone was retreating for the night, the event was finally over.

her brain was on autopilot the entire day, not being able to focus properly and she wanted to be the first one out of there, she packed her things as she saw the others coming over from their celebration as they talked about going to the party being held by ferrari in a club reserved just for them.

she she was grabbing her things to go, she felt a hand on her shoulder, charles.

“hey,” charles smiled apologetically at her as she packed her stuff, she only glanced at him for a little bit before continuing to gather her stuff, “do you want to come to the celebration with me?”

she shakes her head, “i’m quite tired,” she says simply before finally having all of her stuff and walking away, but charles caught up towards her, “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, i forgive you,” she says quietly as she continues walking, she was used to it at this point, charles getting mad at her because she said something that he didn't like and she just took it, but he didn’t want her to go away.

he wanted to talk to her.

“stop walking away, let’s talk, please,” he pleaded as she stopped walking, back still facing towards him, she just couldn’t when it came to him, “what is there to talk about, leclerc?” she asked as she turned around, “you said sorry, and i said i forgive you. there’s nothing to talk about.”

charles felt guilty, she just looked so defeated. so different to the person he knew before shit happened between them.

“i’m sorry for everything, i’m sorry,” he breathes out, he was holding his breath? was he nervous?

“it’s okay, leclerc,” she nods as she tries to walk away again before being held back again by the wrist from a clearly emotional charles.

“it hurts when you do that,” he had a hurt tone to his voice, tears threatening to fall from his pretty green eyes, “when you call me by my last name.”

“everyone calls you that.”

“you’re not just anyone.”

“i feel like just everyone.”

“what happened to nounours?”

“we’re not kids anymore.”

“but you are still mon ange.”

she couldn’t reply back, she hasn’t heard that nickname in so long.

“i love you.”

he choked up, he let his tears out. she didn’t say a peep.

“please say something.”

“what is there to say?” she looked at the ground, away from his eyes. she knew she loved him, more than anything ever since they were kids.

she just didn’t know if she could forgive him even though she had said it earlier.

“tell me you love me,” charles was almost begging, holding onto her hands, “even if you’re lying, just say it back.”

“i love you too,” she knew better than anyone that it wasn’t a lie, it was the furthest thing from a lie, but she didn’t want to appear weak, “is that all? can i go now?”

with those four last words, charles’ heart broke into tiny little pieces.

#charlec leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #leclarifies fic #leclarifies fics

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anzulvr · 2 years ago

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hii could i please request a little hurt/comfort drabble where reader feels sad during christmas season but forces herself to at least pretend to be happy because karma’s birthday is on christmas day :( but karma notices how her smile doesn’t meet her eyes and stuff and asks reader about it!

Summary: You’re sad on Christmas, Karma x reader (except it’s his birthday.) hurt/comfort GN!reader HUGE SPOILER WARNING FOR ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM

(this is so cute I LOVE THIS REQUEST thank u! Had this in my drafts for a while but waited for Christmas to post)

It had been two years since everything ended. Two years since Korosensei died and all of End class were labeled as victims with some weird-Stockholm attachment to the monster who blew up the moon.

It was strange, seeing everyone care about you when you didn’t need it and remembering how low they thought of you when you were only the reject class of kunugigaoka.

A lot happened in two years, not a long time but considering how quickly everything was moving you hadn’t had time to catch up. Like any special day Christmas wasn’t a good time anymore- something your classmates agreed on. With the impact Korosensei had on your lives it was impossible to celebrate anything without wondering what would have been if you managed to save him. That was only wishful thinking, you couldn’t change the past.

Regardless, today you tried to keep a smile on your face. It was the most important time of the year, Karmas birthday- and Christmas too.

You stared at your poor attempt to decorate the cake you baked with Karma, the frosting written birthday note was almost illegible.

“What’s with the look, you’re writing isn’t that bad.”

You looked up after hearing Karmas voice as if you were pulled out of a trance.

“What look? I know it’s not that bad I was admiring our hard work.”

“More like my hard work, you kept dropping everything! Seriously though, what’s wrong? The whole day I’ve been catching you teary eyed.”

You turned your back to the counter to face him as you set the frosting bag down “I’m fine, today’s your day I’m not going to bother you with my problems. You should enjoy everything to its fullest.”

“I’m not going to enjoy anything if you’re not happy, ‘m not budging tell me why you’re upset.”

Karma was stubborn, you knew him well enough to realized this wasn’t negotiable.

“I don’t know… I was just thinking about how Korosensei can’t spend Christmas with us, and he can’t be here for your birthday. Ever since we killed him, Ive felt so helpless? Like we never did enough.”

He nodded slowly breaking eye contact for a second, “my parents haven’t answered my call today, they’re in Italy right now, all I got was a text saying they were busy and that they’d talk later. I know they haven’t forgotten, it’s kind of impossible when it’s Christmas but still- I hoped they would have time for me today, I know they have more important things to do but It made me think about how Korosensei would’ve been here.”

you nodded in response, “They could still call the days not over… and if they don’t they’ll try to make it up to you…” You could bet they wouldn’t call until the next day but you wanted to reassure him, there wasn’t a lot you could say in this situation that would make him feel better.

“It’s fine, you’re here- and you’re the best company, I had fun today. I just meant Korosensei has done a lot for us he’s proud we pulled that off, he wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over it.”

“I know you’re right, still I wish I could’ve done more, we should’ve tried harder to save him.”

“We did what we had to. I miss him too, there’s a lot of things I could never repay Korosensei for—”

“Like getting you through senioritis? Or always bringing money in his wallet even though he knew you’d steal it?”

“I meant setting us up together, but sure those were good too.” Karma smiles breaking tenseness of the conversation for moment, “at the time I thought he was being a hassle but without him im not sure id have you right now.”

Suddenly you felt shy laughing it off and covering your face for a moment while you composed yourself, “Yeah he did push for us a lot but I was obsessed with you far before we even ended up in 3-E so you would’ve had me regardless.”

“Yeah? Tell me more.”

“No way in hell, I don’t trust you to not make fun of me. Anyways I didn’t mean to bring up something depressing, we should be smearing cake all over your face right now.”

“Try all you want but it isn’t possible to mess up my face.”

“Wanna bet?” You shake the smile off your face.

“See that’s more I like it, we can enjoy our ugly cake now. And more importantly you can open your gift.”

“What do you mean my gift? It’s your birthday you’re not supposed to buy me stuff!”

“It’s also Christmas … I couldn’t help myself I really wanted to get you something.”

“But now I’m worried my gift won’t live up to yours!”

“[Name] you could give me rocks for all I care and I’d keep them in a safe with multiple locks.”

You gently shoved his shoulder suppressing your laughter, you leaned in to kiss him.

It was impossible to not feel better with him around. This morning you had woken up wishing time could stop for a moment and you ended the day hoping for the same thing but for a completely different reason.

#ansatsu kyoushitsu #karma akabane #karma x reader #assassination classroom x reader #karma akabane x reader #akabane karma x reader #karma akabane headcannons #assasination classroom #assassination classroom #assclass #karma x you

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asilentguardian · 7 months ago

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Fic Masterlist

Realized that I had some fics that aren't cross-posted on ao3, and I wanted a place to consolidate all my stuff. So here we go!

General

Fanzine - A journal entry from Alfred, post-The Batman. 680 words.

foster kittens - Damian finds a home for a kitten. 943 words.

Alfred and Bruce and fatherhood. 244 words.

shifter jason - Cat!Jason demands some attention from Bruce. 529 words.

holding hands in the rain - Bruce and a young Dick. 168 words.

tiny hand in big hand - Bruce and Damian. 270 words.

Just Before the Dawn - Clark attends Bruce's funeral. 647 words.

Jim Gordon Knows - Gotham!Jim Gordon contemplates Batman's identity. 446 words.

Superbatlantern

the air from my lungs (Explicit) - Hal in a Superbat sandwich :) 5,351 words.

the list (Explicit, WIP) - continuation. smut anthology of sorts. 2,678 words.

Batlantern

Golden Opportunities (And Their Consequences) (WIP) - Hal sees an opportunity to get back at Batman and falls in love with him instead. 8,968 words.

spying batkids prompt - Bruce and Hal try to have a private conversation. 727 words.

step dad hal prompt - Hal gives Tim some advice. 1,655 words.

it wasn't Hal - Jason is protective over Bruce. 1,007 words.

Chronic Pain - Hal helps Bruce with an old injury. 1,426 words.

Rituals - Bruce, after a night of patrol. 3,270 words.

endless gravity (Explicit) - subtop!Bruce and dombottom!Hal. 2,121 words.

Tim's wedding - Bruce and Hal, after Tim gets married. 403 words.

broken bones - Hal returns home. 776 words.

Jurassic Bats (Abandoned) - Jurassic World but batlantern. 4,193 words.

coming back - Hal runs into Tim in the kitchen. 399 words.

trying again - Bruce is injured and Hal doesn't deal well. 924 words.

a long time - On Bruce and Hal and marriage. 295 words.

wrong times - On Bruce and Hal and timing. 310 words.

I've been waiting for, waiting for your touch - An afternoon nap. 598 words.

alright - Bruce checking on Hal. 191 words.

The Pleasure's Mine - Prince Bruce Wayne meets a rather peculiar man in the stables. 1,256 words.

Madness or Brilliance - Pre-slash pirate AU. 1,510 words.

Creatures of the Knight (Abandoned) - same pirate AU. 1,936 words.

unrequited - Hal is in love with Bruce. 199 words.

My Dear, My Dear, My Dear - Musings on Hal. 189 words.

Willed Together - A proposal. 748 words.

flowers - drabble prompt. 109 words.

Hey Baby - Hal calls every one but Bruce baby. Bruce is annoyed because it’s unprofessional and childish. No other reason, no sir. 1,250 words.

surprise - drabble prompt. 104 words.

future - drabble prompt. 107 words.

coffee shop - drabble prompt. 98 words.

To Love You - Loving Hal Jordan. 179 words.

Wash My Eyes, Switch My Focus - The classic “oh shit that’s my ex, quick pretend to be my boyfriend please I’ll owe you forever.” 1,581 wordss.

Police Commissioners and Shovel Talks - Hal thought meeting Bruce’s kids was scary, but it was nothing compared to staring James Gordon in the face after he’d just caught Green Lantern kissing Batman. 694 words.

take me in your tender arms (Explicit) - Birthday sex. 1,191 words.

comparing hand sizes - drabble prompt. 159 words.

you found home right in my soul - Grandpa Bruce on his birthday. 924 words.

Winters in Gotham are cold - Bruce in a turtleneck and glasses. 788 words.

Undeniable - It makes sense when Bruce Wayne is seen kissing the Green Lantern. 1,317 words.

i love the way you let me breathe instead (Explicit) - Bruce and being called beautiful. 413 words.

your heart in my soul - Bruce and affection. 251 words.

Can't Get Control of the World - Hal struggles with the fact that he can't save everyone, and Bruce is there to wash the blood off of his hands. 1,318 words.

Timbern

A Date - Tim and Bruce and honesty. 364 words.

#my stuff #my writing #aspeaks #fic #ill add descriptions later probably #pinned posts #batlantern #timbern #batfam

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ria-writes-stories · 16 days ago

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Romance writing sample

(Skip to the 'read more' for the actual drabble/sample)

The contest of this post contains a monologue said by Y/n (the reader) to their love interest. A bit more details: Established relationship, marriage, Jon Snow x Reader, childhood friends to lovers.

Now all of these details do not make their way into the contents you are about to witness, at least not in a direct manner, but they are there if you squint your eyes and think about it.

Once more the purpose of the samples is to give you, the audience, an idea of my writing style and how I am able to approach various genres from different angles.

I'd like to give a special thanks to @sins-of-the-dragons, a HOTD content creator I have discovered rather recently after I have found myself pulled into the ASOIAF universe, with GOT and HOTD alike (though I admit that I mostly got in it for the men, and mythical creatures: dire wolves, dragons, etc. Amen. The universe itself leaves room for a great deal of creativity and that's mostly what I like about it). The owner of this account was the one to kindly encourage me to post my ASOIAF fandom work.

Please enjoy my humble work and feel free to tell me what you have thought about it, either in the comments or perhaps in the dms/ask box anonymously if you feel better that way. Every word matters, truly. Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Without further a do, enjoy.

Note from the writer(me): for y'all who don't like fancy shmuck words, hardcore simping is coming from the reader to Jon Snow, cuz we all know this sad puppy ain't getting enough of it. Jon Snow appreciation post.

"You are a dangerous man Jon Snow." She cooed out softly as she slightly interrupted their kiss, running a thumb across his cheekbone.

"You make me so greedy. I can't look away from those handsome faces of yours and all that long I wait to get my hands into your hair and tear out that cursed hair tie so I can see your beautiful curls laid out as they should be. Yet again, we both wear one each for practical reasons during our dutiful tasks in the daytime. It doesn't mean we don't both appreciate when the other one has their hair let out freely." She murmured before kissing his jawline with a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"I'm not supposed to fall in love more than once. Who are you brute to make me fall in love outside of just my husband?" These two were married, yet she always had the tendency to say how a man, no matter who he was, had more than one face, and by the Old Gods and New, she fell in love with each of his faces, unable to look away or bring herself to step back. Each time taking a step closer to an 'unfaithful' dance, too tempting and crude to be left out of, for her to just sit idly by as a wife to her husband instead of joining this game of deadly vice and changing her own face to match or complete the one he had masked himself with.

"You cannot give me peace can you?" She asked while she pushed her face into his neck with a heavy exhale.

"Every time I think that it's over and I can come to rest, you come to stir me awake. Each time my heart beats normally once more you make me feel like some young foolish girl knowing no better but to fall in love as if it weren't the last of her concerns for her well-being. I sit still and pray quietly, speak as gently and please as sweetly to have my own beating heart back in control of mine but for naught, I do any of it. You come back to torment me, pretending to do nothing when those lingering gazes of yours open right back up the old wound I tried to stick up from which my heart has found its escape through all the other times. It starts to beat faster and I don't know what to do to calm it. The coldness of the snow does nothing to tame it anymore, it has grown numb to tame it anymore, it has grown numb to its effects because of you. It's pumping too fast, too full of life for me to contain. It jumps and I too leap powerlessly trying to hold it down with the helplessness of a poor battered dog. Then it breaks out of the shackles I have word meticulously to tie it down with and bursts right out into your arms, letting itself so easily awe-struck and vulnerable it almost makes me want to laugh at the stupidity of it if it weren't for the fact that it was my very heart to act so irrationally. How cruel can you be to me my dear? I am yours, my heart which I cannot live without has been given to your loving arms more than once. I merely ask for you to let it beat for me as well, so that I may find joy and content as you do. But you are a selfish man. I do not have a moment's mind of peace for it to settle back into its old home within the secluded walls of my body for you come to tempt it back out so effortlessly it should be a crime. My dear, are you not tired of being so restless with me? I play into your game however much you want me to. I lay by your side or stand still and watch from afar, the knight, the king, the son of a lord, the bastard with no name or malice within his being. Yet time and time again you fool me, twisting those names, changing the old faces for new ones they are all the same. And I fall once more, unable to tell apart what is old and reshaped and what is new and transformed. My breath you have stolen. My heart you've tamed to follow only you. My feet ache for all the steps I have taken to search for what was mine and what you have taken from me yet you cannot be satisfied. A wolf like you, forever starving yet so bright to know to not need to seek and hunt some other poor creature for you already have one mindlessly following you like a lamb to slaughter."

"My love, do you not tire of the torment you give me?" True and loving were her words, yet she had no strength and will in mind and body to stop herself.

"How can you trick me so? Or perhaps is it that you punish me? You shed your old skin and take a new one just like a wolf does when the seasons change. I watch from afar, awake as I can be yet you always shed your coat when I least expect it. When I look away or when I blink, you let it fall from your shoulders and hide it away from my prying eyes. You leave me searching for the one I grew accustomed to, searching for him with no real possibility of ever finding him, and then you walk by. With your brand new coat, shinier, better kept, groomed and taken care of. You impose your presence over me again and I step back startled, looking left and right for the previous one that was supposed to keep me away from such temptation but he's nowhere to be seen. Then you walk away and make me realize how alone I am, without anybody to keep me company. To be afraid is one but to lonely? So then I follow you hesitantly, meekly and shyly, hoping that when I approach meekly and shyly, hoping that when I approach you I will not be struck down upon the ground, and you wait. You take your grand effortless steps and let me suffer with my tinier ones, trailing behind you, letting the guilt and remorse seep in of not waiting for the other one to come take me. Then it fades away and I allow myself to think I might be welcomed in your presence. That is when you turn around to finally look at me too, and show me it is still you whom I was following all along. I cower down in fear of punishment and you simply tell me to stay put and wait, for if I will, then you shall forgive me. I do as told, looking at the ground in shame, while you walk away. Then I grew uneasy and unsteady with myself. I look up to gaze upon you, to try and better recall you to my memory so that I won't be a fool and repeat the same mistake twice. But my eyes grew tired and heavy. I cannot look at you for long, it overwhelms me greatly. I look away or blink for a moment longer than down in fear of punishment and you simply tell me to stay put and wait, for if I will, then you shall forgive me. I do as told, looking at the ground in shame, while you walk away. Then I grew uneasy and unsteady with myself. I look up to gaze upon you, to try and better recall you to my memory so that I won't be a fool and repeat the same mistake twice. But my eyes grew tired and heavy. I cannot look at you for long, it overwhelms me greatly. I look away or blink for a moment longer than I should and that's when you shed your skin again, and we start all over. Have you no mercy for my soul my love?"

"Won't you give me anything in return? Not even a taste?" She asked seemingly pleadingly, as she arched her back subtly with her chest pressed against his, letting him feel the radiating heat from her body upon himself. Letting him feel the effect he had on her, and her eyes were far from innocent and meek.

#got #game of thrones #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #jon snow x y/n #established relationship #asoiaf #asoiaf universe #got universe #got fanfic #game of thrones fanfic #got fanfiction #got fandom #got writing #game of thrones writing #W.Ria

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sashiimee · 1 month ago

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🩶 Your Love Settled Into Me Too Well | Part 3

💬 ask | ✨ masterlist | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Drabble

pairing: namjoon x reader | oc

genre: angst, past established relationship, jealousy, unresolved tension, second chance vibes

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: tension, jealousy, subtle possessiveness, emotional spiraling, slow burn

summary: It’s messy—and he knows it. But love always is, isn’t it? Enjoy

⸻

A/N:

I forgot to mention last time, but this is my first fic + first post, so please be gentle and kind 🫶.

Comments are super appreciated—good or bad, I’ll take it lol.

Don’t ask why my links might not be working, I literally have no idea 😭.

Oh, and yeah… I changed the title (again). Oops.

✧˚. 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 — 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ✧˚.

Namjoon sees it before he hears it.

The way Charlie leans in, elbows brushing yours.

The way you swat his shoulder and laugh, “You’re stupid,” in that voice—the one Namjoon usually gets all to himself.

He was just walking by. That’s what he tells himself.

Until he isn’t walking anymore.

Until he’s staring.

Your head tilts back when you laugh. Charlie watches your mouth. His fingers ghost over your wrist when he hands you your phone like it’s something delicate.

Namjoon’s jaw tightens.

Charlie says something else. You laugh again.

Softer this time. Like it was meant to be private.

Namjoon’s done.

He walks up—cool, collected, unreadable. That practiced calm that only makes people more nervous. The kind of calm that feels like a lit fuse right before the blow.

“Hey.”

You turn, blinking up at him like you forgot he existed.

That stings more than he’ll ever admit.

“Namjoon? Didn’t think you had class today.”

“I didn’t.”

You guys studying or…?

His gaze flicks to Charlie.

“Just hanging,” Charlie says with a shrug.

“Yeah?” Namjoon’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Looks fun.”

You feel it now—the shift.

The way he stands a little taller.

The way his hand accidentally grazes your back when he leans to grab your water bottle.

The way his voice drops an octave when he turns to Charlie again.

“Didn’t know you two were this close.”

Not a question.

A warning.

Charlie raises an eyebrow but stays quiet.

You clear your throat.

“We were just talking.”

“Right.”

Namjoon nods slowly. “That’s what I thought.”

But his eyes never leave Charlie.

And when he walks away—slow, smooth, like he’s not rattled—it’s only after brushing his fingers along the back of your neck.

Just once.

Just enough.

So Charlie sees it.

So you feel it.

And when you turn to look at him again—

Namjoon’s already gone.

But your pulse is still racing.

⸻

✧˚. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 — 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐧𝐢𝐜 ✧˚.

It’s one of those university-organized “community building” events.

Too many flyers. Free snacks. People pretending they’re not just here for extra credit.

You’re sitting with Jimin and Hoseok, ankles crossed on a faded blanket.

Your lemonade’s watery, and your sunglasses keep sliding down your nose—but none of that matters when you hear—

“Is this spot taken?”

Your head whips around.

Namjoon stands there, haloed in sunlight.

White button-down, sleeves rolled, collar open.

Forearms out. Day ruined.

He’s holding two drinks.

And beside him—Sohee.

Sohee, in a ribbon-tied sundress. Fake-laughing too loud at something he didn’t finish saying. Her hand rests on his arm like she owns the lease.

“We can sit here, right?” she chirps, like it’s already decided.

Jimin offers a tight-lipped smile. Hoseok shifts.

You don’t say anything. Not yet.

You’re too busy staring—because why does he look hotter now?

Why does he look well-rested? Relaxed?

Like he’s not still lodged in the back of your throat?

Namjoon drops to the blanket across from you.

Stretches his legs. Jeans ride up just enough to flash a sliver of ankle. His watch catches the light. His eyes catch you.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You shrug. Sip your sad little drink.

“Didn’t think you’d come.”

He smirks. Just one corner of his mouth.

“I told him he should,” Sohee says brightly.

Namjoon doesn’t respond.

His gaze doesn’t leave you.

⸻

The picnic carries on.

Voices blur. Laughter floats. Sohee giggles beside him.

You tell yourself you’re fine.

You’re so not fine.

You notice everything:

—The way his fingers tap against his cup when he’s thinking.

—The way he listens to Jimin talk, even while Sohee whispers in his ear.

—The way he glances at you. Fast, but often.

And then—

“You look good,�� he says.

It’s quiet. Not meant for the group.

Your head snaps up.

“Excuse me?”

His voice is low. Unbothered. Casual. Dangerous.

“Didn’t say it to start anything.”

He leans back on his hands. “Just figured you should know.”

You blink.

Sohee is still talking. But Namjoon?

Namjoon is looking at you like he never really stopped.

Like he never will.

Your heart hammers in your chest.

You look away.

You hate how much you want to kiss him right there.

You hate that he knows.

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beatsblossomsnbliss · 4 months ago

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TxT Drabble #1 Prompt: Boyfriend

(Taehyun - ♡ | ♡ | ♡ | ♡)

Disclaimer: This is a series! I made one for each of the boys that I'll be posting over time! I intend to link the others by the hearts above. Constructive criticism is welcome, but please be gentle. I've been writing for a long time, but I haven't really grown much in the fiction department. Thank you and enjoy!

Content Warnings: bsf!Tae, boxer!taehyun, boxer!mc, minor self inflicted wounds, careless caution, bi!reader mentioned, ghosting, etc.

Pft, pft…pft, pft, pft

The punching bag swung to and fro with each fist full of power thrown. If it was a living breathing human being you were sure they would have been pummeled by all of your relentless blows. If only it were that stupid boy’s face.

Huffing and puffing with sweat dripping down your brow your emotions steamed and brewed leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. How dare he humiliate me in front of my friends? You’d already drowned out the noises of all the other boxers in the gym, focused solely on giving this bag absolute hell.

“Y/N…”

1 punch, 2 punch…3,4

“Y/N!”

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder trying to snap you out of your zen space. You growled, sending one last burst of energy against the leather of the bag. Sighing and wiping away some of the sweat you turn to meet your irritating interruption. The glare on your face melted away quickly as soon as your eyes met with Taehyun’s.

“What on earth are you doing here so late?” He asked, concern evident in the way his brows creased.

Taeyhyun had been your best friend for years, he’s actually the reason you got into boxing in the first place. He’d always been sugar sweet and this evening was no exception.

“Weren’t you supposed to go on that double date with Kai and his girlfriend?” He asked, leaning against the wall to your left with his arms crossed.

You shrug nonchalantly, turning back to the bag hanging behind you, Taehyun had other ideas though. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, carefully guiding you away from your target and down onto the mat against the wall.

“Don’t do that.” He said gently. You couldn’t help but notice how his hand hadn’t let go of your wrist. “You always try to shrug things off when you’re upset. Don’t pretend like I don’t notice.”

Silence fell over the two of you and you sigh softly.

“Not to mention that bag has seen better days. Let me see your hands.” He mumbled.

You knew better than to argue, you’d lifted your haphazardly bandaged hands, your knuckles visibly red and bleeding.

“What the hell am I going to do with you, hm?” The boy sighed and stood, walking hastily toward the reception desk to find some supplies to properly tend to your wounds.

“Listen I- You know this is how I take out all of my stress.” You vented, as the boy came back with gauze and a wet cloth. Before he started working to patch you up you pull the messy locks on your shoulders to rest behind your back.

“You’re right however,” He carefully takes one of your hands, unwrapping the bands of gauze that did very little to protect your hands. “You didn’t wrap properly, not to mention the fact that you should’ve been using gloves anyways.”

You hiss softly as he crouched down in front of you and dabbed your knuckles with a damp cloth redressing your binds. “What has you so upset?”

“It’s just-” You groan in frustration. “He stood me up in front of both of them. I mean come on, he couldn't have called, texted, something? It just sucks. I’ve gone through boy after boy after boy like are you kidding? I haven’t pulled any girls either. It gets to you after a while, Tae.” You vent. “Besides,” You add as he moves from working on one hand to the next. “I really liked him.” you grumble.

“I didn’t realize you wanted a partner that badly.” Taehyun mumbled quietly, before pausing to look up at you as he rubbed the back of his neck. His next few words were spoken just above a whisper with a lopsided grin on his face. “Would you…like a boyfriend?”

“Are you…offering?” You asked, raising your eyebrows as you close and open your fist, testing out how comfortable the bandages are.

“Is it really that surprising?” He laughed, finally leaning back against the wall once again.

“Yes.” You nod.

“Really?” The boy looked visibly confused.

You laugh lightheartedly, one of your hands coming to rest on your stomach as though that would stop the noise from slipping past your lips. “No…like yes, I would. I’d be happy to accompany you on a date.”

Taehyun’s eyes widened, sparkling with joy. “Great, you, me, boxing ring, tomorrow.”

“Oh no, you don’t. An actual date.” You demand playfully.

Taehyun erupted into mischievous giggles. “Alright, alright, you have a deal. We’ll get you your favorite for dinner and then we can go see whichever movie you want.”

“Thank you, you’ve always been such a gentleman.”

#kang taehyun #terry #txt #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together #taehyun drabble #tomorrow x together drabble #kpop drabble #first drabble #writeblr #tomorrow x together fanfic #boxer terry #boxer mc #boxer taehyun #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #choi beomgyu #huening kai

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fellow-travelers-fic-recs · 1 year ago

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Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | Featured WIPs: May/June

Active WIPs with an updated chapter posted in the past two months. Most recent works posted on top. Featuring a Jackson and Tim reunion, not one but two afterlife AU's, a pizza delivery driver AU, some more of everyone's favorite fake dating Disaster, Fire Island, another hospital conversation and even more time travel. Take your pick... There's something for everyone!

Happy reading!

✨ Be sure to show the authors some love and appreciation with kudos and comments on the fics you enjoyed!

right or wrong i can't get along without you by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 3K] Jackson Fuller disappears and everyone fears the worst - until he turns up in San Francisco asking Tim for help.

Almost Paradise by @likerealpeopledo-on-ao3 | Likerealpeopledo [T, 8K] In 1992, Hawk dies and goes...somewhere.

Equal parts apology tour, long-awaited reunions, and reluctant spiritual exploration, Hawk takes a journey through the afterlife and back to Tim.

A Disaster, Beyond Measure by drabbleswabbles💠 [NR, 50K] Hawkins Fuller is a campaign manager with a PR disaster on his hands. The solution involves pretending to date none other than Timothy Laughlin.

Featuring: unrealistic portrayals of the life and job of a campaign manager for the sake of the fake dating trope.

Added Delivery Fees by spiffyyy💠 [E, 12K] Hawk stared at him. Thick black glasses that he adjusted as he turned with a serviced half grin. A goofy red ball cap hat that covered straight brown hair cut in a neat trim. He was cute: in an endearing, somewhat dorky way.

The man laughed. “I was a little worried I was at the wrong place.” He turned back and shuffled over as he unzipped the thermal bag. “This is like some government office, right?” “Senate affairs,” Hawk evenly supplied. Or, Hawk falls hard for a pizza delivery worker despite his best attempts not to.

Within The Heart of Me by drabbleswabbles💠 [NR, 14K] Lucy goes to the hospital to talk to Tim. When she arrives, Hawk is already there.

Otherwise known as a prompt fill that wanders a bit off the mark, but is close enough in spirit to give credit where credit is due as far as inspiration goes.

I Have You by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific [NR, 3K] After receiving a cryptic postcard, and hearing from Lucy that Hawk's in trouble, Tim takes a trip back east to find out for himself.

A different version of the events that unfold in Fire Island, told from Tim's perspective.

Part 3 of FT Talk Hub Sunday Drabbles & Snippets

just like romantic verses, just like a joyous end by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [T, 1K] One day Hawk spots a new handsome teacher. It's a bad idea to lust after your colleague, but Hawk is only a man.

Sands of Time (Turn Backwards) by @brouill3r | brouiller [NR, 30K] 1987 Hawkins Fuller is full of regrets for the life he's lived, though Tim once told him he regrets nothing. Hawk so wishes he could say the same.

In the still night air of a hotel room, clutching a cracked paperweight to his chest like it's carved of the finest gold, Hawk gets his wish.

Or, a time-travel fix-it fic that nobody asked for.

look homeward, angel by @earth-3490s | earth3490s [NR, 1K] Hawkins Fuller died on a rainy Sunday in 2001, at a DC hospital with his daughter holding his hand.

AU based on The Five People You Meet in Heaven.

💠Authors: if your tumblr (or other socials) isn’t linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it! Or, if you’re linked already and would prefer not to be, please contact me to remove it.

#fellow travelers fic recs #ftficrecs #ftfics wips #fellow travelers fics #wips #works in progress #fellow travelers #ftfics jun24

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mediocreanomaly · 2 years ago

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Good Boy - Hybrid!Wolfwood x Reader (NSFW)

Authors Note: Welcome to Wolfwood Wednesday 2: The Wolfoning (also known as Zero started a drabble thinking he could finish by yesterday and then he didn’t)

Anyways this is what happens when I read too much of @demxnscous post and I’m crediting you even though you said you didn’t need it because I got lot of inspiration from your post. (Also I hope you’re doing better :( sending good vibes ur way)

You aren’t sure how you got in this situation or- no, that was a lie. You knew how you got here. It was just hard to believe it was actually happening. It started the day your bleeding heart took in a stray. A mutt that looked more wolf than dog who was surprisingly eager to listen to you and what the hell, who doesn’t want scary dog privileges? That was until two months later you had came home from work to find a full grown man lying in your bed rather than your beloved pet. You had screamed until he jumped up, startled, when you noticed a familiar set of pointed black ears and a fluffy tail. It had been an adjustment to be sure to find they were one and the same, and when he had hung his head low, ears drooping, you couldn’t kick him out, you couldn’t because...he was still your Nico, right?

Then things got complicated. Nico still had a lot of his animal habits, whether that was normal for hybrids or based on the fact he had stayed in dog form so long you didn’t know but he was always there. At your heels, hovering, sitting by your feet trying to make himself look small, laying his head in your lap, nosing along your throat, along your belly. Half the time you were sure he didn’t know what he was doing to you always being this close. It didn’t help he was attractive, the kind of man you were sure wouldn’t give you the time of day had circumstances been any different and yet he was always trailing you desperate to be good.

Maybe that was your real undoing, that look he gave you when you could tell he was trying so hard to obey, to listen, to please you no matter what, to behave. Maybe you were the real animal because it made something in your brain light up, made your knees weak, and your tongue feel too big in your mouth.

Then...there was today. Today when you came home from work early to find Nico nude on your bed, used panties in his hand as he inhaled your scent, pillow tucked between his legs as he humped with abandon, chasing after his high with your name on his lips. You should have closed the door, left and pretended you never saw him but you couldn’t deny the rush of heat that blossomed between your legs at the sight.

When he had seen you he had been startled, instantly ashamed, ears flatting and a whine in his tone as he apologized, waiting for you to scold him or finally kick him to the curb. What he hadn’t expected was you climbing into his lap, gently kissing at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s okay... is my poor Nico in rut?” you mummer, it’s a little embarrassing hearing those words come out your mouth but the way Nico’s eyes glaze over with lust and his breath stutters you’re sure you won’t regret it.

He whines and nods, those big brown eyes watching you with something like admiration? No...reverence maybe. Like a righteous man standing at gods feet, but you weren’t god and if your Nico was so eager to worship, who were you to deny? Yet he waits. He’s good like that, he always is.

“Please, Nico,” you breathe out by his ear, pressing a kiss along his jaw for reassurance.

He’s on you in an instant, not rough just eager to please. His calloused hands slide off your clothes with ease, Nico nips along your throat oh so careful not to bite minding his teeth but greedy enough to let himself mark your pretty skin. Because despite the thick black leather collar currently around his neck (the one thing he left on) he needs to know, needs to know he’s yours, that your his, that you don’t need anyone besides him.

He lays down and before you can ask what he’s doing Nico claws at the fat of your thighs, dragging you up up up to his waiting mouth. You yelp at the action trying to balance yourself on your knees but he doesn’t give you much time to adjust, bullying his head between your thighs, stubble scratching at your skin as he dives in. He gives quick licks against your already wet sex. It’s sloppy at first, the excitement of Nico finally getting what he wants making his thoughts hazy but when you whimper and try to grind down on his face he gets the message pretty quickly.

He grabs at your thighs and brings you down, movements more precise as he laps like a man dying of thirst making you mewl and writhe in pleasure. He makes a pleased hum at the noises he manages to pull from you and the added vibrations only add to the warmth building in your gut. You won’t last like this, you can’t, not when Nico’s doing everything he can to make you fall apart. You feel his soft ears flicker against your thighs and then two of his thick fingers press in curling against your sweet spot. You finish embarrassingly fast, the sensations too much for you to keep up with. You moan trying to move away from Nico’s tongue which keeps moving, overstimulating you past your release but he doesn’t relent, he’s finally gotten his treat and he isn’t passing up the opportunity.

When he does finally pull his head from out between your thighs you dumbly think that it’s over when he flips the two of you, letting a firm hand press gently against your back moving you so that you’re face down against the mattress. Doggy style, how original. If you weren’t just as desperate as Nico you might’ve even made a snide comment. That pillow he was humping is placed under your hips now giving you something to grind against while giving Nico the added benefit of your body being angled up, presenting yourself to the man behind you. At this point you’re starting to wonder if he really is in rut.

Nico presses himself against your back, his warmth and weight both grounding and mind numbing at the same time. He reaches down to swipe his cock along you once, twice, then presses in only barely just the tip and for a second you wonder if he’s trying to tease you until he whines.

“So pretty...so good, let me make you feel good baby? Please? I’m hurting for you, didn’t even get to cum earlier want to put it in you so bad, I’m so hard for you”

Despite the pure filth pouring from his mouth...it makes your own mouth water. You’ve never been more sure that you’ve needed someone the way you do now, the way he’s begging, strong arms keeping his body weight on top of you. Because of course he was asking first, he was your good boy and even though you can tell it’s taking all his self control not to just take you he has to prove it, has to prove how well he can obey.

“Nico~ be a good boy and fuck me” you breathe

The control that he was hanging onto snaps.

“fuck- ah, shit so good baby, feels so good” Nico pants in your ear. You want to focus on what he’s saying, really you do, but it’s hard when his warmth is draped over your back, his strong arm around your waist is the only thing currently keeping your shaking legs up as he sinks into you to the hilt.

The stretch is there but your eyes are rolling back in your head at the feeling of being so full. It doesn’t help Nico’s leaking precum like a fountain, making a mess out of both your thighs, was he really this riled up over you?

“Been wantin to do this for so long- shit, s’good sweetheart taking me so good.” he nips at the shell of your ear and yeah you’re going to hell but if you can get Nicholas to fuck you like this a few more times it’ll have been worth it.

His hips set an unrelenting pace right off the bat, yet even now as he mouths along your neck, presses in deep enough to ruin you for anyone else, heavy balls slapping against you with each thrust, he never hurts you. Why would he? He’s good, he’s obedient and he’s yours. He wants to show you, needs to show you how good he can be, how good he can make you feel.

Noises that sound like a mixture of a growl and a moan spill from his mouth; the metal of his dog tag feels cool against your neck. One arm wraps around your waist, pushing and pulling you along with his motions dragging you down on his cock over and over again. The other glides up your chest then stops once it reaches your chin, holding your head up as he pants in your ear. His hair is getting long, you can feel the ends of his shaggy curls tickling the back of your neck, that and his hot breath fanning against your back.

You can’t think straight like this, each thrust spilling out more of both your slick. The walls echoing back the perverse sounds of both your moans, sloppy noises of skin meeting sweat slicked skin. Nico’s tail is wagging slightly and you’d think it was cute if he wasn’t fucking you stupid right now. A familiar heat is beginning to curl in your stomach, you roll your eyes back and feel a bit of drool begin to spill down your lips.

You’re close, god you’re so close and you can tell Nico is too, actually you think he’s been close for awhile now but he’s not going to be satisfied until you are.

“N-Nico please” you don’t know what you’re begging for but luckily he does, suppose that just goes to show how devoted he is, he knows you better than you know yourself.

He reaches between your thighs and- fuck your dripping, you weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it, maybe you were so distracted with the mess Nico was making you didn’t stop to consider your own. Either way, you’d have to change the sheets later.

His fingers press against that sensitive spot that aches and you swear the breath is knocked out of you.

“Nico Nico Nico-” his name falls from your lips like a prayer and he whimpers, thrust getting more frantic more desperate as he tries to pull you to the edge.

“Please angel please, cum on me wanna feel it need you to feel good” this is so far from the cagey stray you brought in but then again...Nico always was so much more gentle with you. He sits at your heels, he nuzzles against your stomach he-

“Fuck Nico I’m gonna cum” you whine

“Cum fuck- cum please baby need it” Nico pants fingers dipping again to work an orgasm out of you.

And it does. Your orgasm comes crashing into you like a train, a broken sound that you think is a half hearted “Nico” choked off by your own moans. Your legs tremble and Nico’s hand flies down to rip at the sheets as he makes his own desperate noise. It’s animalistic, a deep throaty moan that tampers off into something like a howl.

He doesn’t stop, thrusting into you as his cock twitches spilling hot cum until you swear you can taste it. It doesn’t help your body is eagerly reacting to it, walls twitching, trying to milk him for all he’s worth, earning you a few more lazy thrusts as his release begins to spill out of you from the sheer amount of cum he’s just filled you with.

You both pant trying to recover, your body is limp under Nico and you aren’t sure you’ll have the strength to leave the bed for the next week with out fucked out you feel.

Nico leans down to nuzzle against your neck and face giving you an apprehensive lick against your cheek.

“Good?” He ask flashing those puppy dog eyes at you. You know what he really means, “Was I good?” “Did I please you?” “Did it make you feel good?”

You reach up to lazily scratch against his mop of black hair and around those fluffy ears. You’re rewarded with the feeling of Nico’s tail wagging keenly.

“Yeah...you’re my good boy Nico” you hum tracing along his collar, he shivers and you can feel his dick twitch in interest.

“Insatiable” you huff pushing his face away, he flashes you a smile with those sharp canines and nudges your hand out of the way to nose against your temple.

“You have no idea”

It seems neither of you are going to be leaving the bed anytime soon.

#sorry hybrid Nico is just too delicious #wolfwood x reader #wolfwood x you #hybrid!wolfwood #hybrid!wolfwood x reader #trigun x reader

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hairstevington · 2 years ago

Text

songs that voices never share

Deaf!Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Everything's felt a little off since the Fourth of July, and no one's talking about it. Of course, one part of Steve's summer is a bit hard to ignore - he's losing his hearing. As luck would have it, a friend of Dustin's ends up playing a key role in Steve's adjustment to his new normal.

WC: 4K

Warnings: Deaf!Steve, use of ASL, angst/references to events of season 1-3, this fic will disregard the events of season 4 because I said so, canon universe, hurt/comfort, angst, platonic Stobin forever, Steve and Will are buds, some sad stuff but overall it's a love story like come on it's me we're talking about

A/N: Hello! Everyone loved my drabble about Deaf Steve so I'm expanding it into a full fic. The plan is 7 chapters, and I'll probably post them all both here and on Ao3. Please note that ASL is written in all capitals when notated in English, and the grammar is a bit different.

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Chapter 1 - I'll take a quiet life

Steve was kind of prone to getting beat up. God knows Dustin never let him forget it.

After the fight with Jonathan, he felt more or less the same. Then, Billy beat the shit out of him, and Steve started getting migraines and hearing a ringing in his ears every so often.

But after being tortured by the Russians for a couple hours? That’s when the real damage was done.

Everything felt a little off since the Fourth of July, but no one talked about it. Even though so much had changed, Steve and the rest of the group all tried to get back to any normalcy they could find. Steve and Robin got a job together at Family Video and ultimately ignored everything they'd experienced together. It just felt like it was too big to talk about, so they didn't. They pretended like it didn't happen honestly - which might have been more successful had it not been for one fairly major thing.

The ringing became almost constant. Steve’s hearing was piss poor some days and kind of okay other days, but eventually the bad days were more frequent than the good. Steve knew he got beat up a lot, and he figured there were probably some consequences, but he never had time to think about it. Then, when he had trouble hearing one day, he figured he was just swollen and needed time to heal. And then he blamed it on allergies. And then he felt stupid for not taking it seriously, so he ignored it. And then, when he finally went to the doctor, he realized the full extent of it all.

They called it a perfect storm of injuries. At least, that’s what he thought they said. Apparently he’d had too much trauma to the area and not enough medical attention after multiple concussions and ruptured eardrums. He also apparently broke some of the bones in his ears??? They told him a lot of things that he couldn’t quite understand.

He wasn’t stupid. He just couldn’t hear so well anymore.

Steve had never been the smartest person in the first place. He wasn’t great at school, especially with English or history, and he never cared that much about it either. He breezed his way through high school and focused on sports and popularity.

So, when Steve couldn’t keep up in conversations with his friends, they didn’t really think anything was out of the ordinary. Classic Steve, always a few sentences behind.

He got away with it for much longer than he had any right to. Robin was the first to notice.

They worked together at Family Video most days that summer, and it was a good job because anyone could do it, really. They were never really that busy, so a lot of the time was just Steve and Robin getting paid to hang out.

A lot of times, Robin rambled at him about movies or music or how hot Molly Ringwald was, and he could just nod and smile and occasionally say something like, “yeah, totally,” and she would be none the wiser. If they were looking at each other, he could kind of tell what she was saying based on her lips, but only because he knew her well enough to do so. He couldn’t really understand anyone else, except maybe Dustin sometimes. Then again, Dustin used a lot of tech speak that went over Steve’s head even before his hearing deteriorated.

Steve was putting tapes back in the proper places, oblivious to Robin calling for him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she tapped him on the shoulder.

“Shit! Hi!” he exclaimed, realizing he must have missed something again. “Sorry, I’m kind of out of it.”

Ah, his go-to excuse. It worked every time.

“Bullshit, Harrington,” she replied. Before Steve could defend himself, she continued. “You can’t hear very well anymore, can you?”

Huh. Okay, it worked every time, until now. Steve nodded, realizing he had no reason to hide it from Robin anymore.

“How’d you know?” he wondered. Usually, Robin paced back and forth and avoided eye contact during her rambles, but this time she stayed put and faced him head on.

“Steve,” she began. “You’ve always been a little oblivious, but recently it’s like you’re never listening to me at all. Plus, I’ve been throwing random things into conversation to see if you notice. Hey, Steve, just figured out that hamsters aren’t real. Dingus, I just got a tattoo of your face on my face. You know, things like that. You’ve never said anything about it, so at first I thought you were just stressed or depressed or - wait, shit. You can’t hear. Maybe I should write this down.” She went to search for a pen and paper, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

“I think I got the gist,” he responded. Thankfully this was one of his better days, otherwise he never would have been able to follow. “Wait, hamsters are real though, right?” Robin’s face fell as she genuinely pondered whether Steve was being serious. “I’m kidding. Yes I know what you’re saying.”

“Okay, cool,” she replied, relieved. “Anyway, once I realized nothing was wrong with your psyche, I started doing other tests. But sometimes I’d stomp my feet and you’d react, so I worried I was making it all up. One time I snapped right by your ear, but then I accidentally flicked you on the temple.”

Steve remembered that. She said it was a bug.

He could hear some frequencies, and it also depended on the day and the season. It was best in quiet spaces where he only had to talk to one person. That’s how he got by so well at work, because it was a relatively quiet place.

Well, except for Robin and her constant rambling.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. Steve shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t wanna admit it, I guess, but I think it’s just gonna get worse.” The prospect of losing his hearing entirely and permanently was on the table, especially if he was to get punched again or something. Considering his group of friends and their history of getting into trouble, that didn’t seem unlikely. Robin put a caring hand on his shoulder and gave a comforting smile.

“Well, I talk too much for you to not understand me, so this means we’re both gonna have to learn sign language.”

“What?” Steve winced at the idea. “No way. I took three years of Spanish and I only know how to ask where the bathroom is.”

(He actually forgot how to say that, too.)

“Yeah, but maybe sign language will be different. I mean, it’s visual, right?” Robin put her elbows on the counter and continued. “Come on, you know I love languages, and I’m soooo booooored.” As she spoke, her body slowly sank onto the counter until she was face down.

Steve chuckled. He wasn’t surprised that she was the first to figure it all out, and her reaction was incredibly on brand.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Let’s give it a shot.”

Steve picked up the alphabet pretty quickly. He already knew most of it from Sunday School as a kid. Then, for about a week or so, Robin drilled him by practicing different signs during their shifts together. There were only a few weeks of summer vacation left before Robin went back to school for her senior year.

Steve was grateful he’d already graduated by the time his hearing got worse. He would never have had the courage to ask for accommodations. Although, Robin probably would have bugged him into asking for it anyway.

Whatever, He didn’t need to think about that.

MOVIE, Robin signed to Steve during a standard shift at Family Video.

“Uhhhhh…cheese?” Steve guessed. Robin shook her head.

“No, but close!” she countered. Steve groaned.

“How is it close, Robin? How?” he complained. She laughed, then showed him the sign for CHEESE versus MOVIE. They were honestly not that different. “Oh. Okay, yeah.”

W-O-R-K, she fingerspelled next. Steve’s eyes lit up.

“I know this one!!!” he exclaimed, hitting one of his fists on top of the other to sign WORK.

“Yes!” Robin cheered. She quickly corrected herself and signed YES. Steve smiled. CANDY TIME.

When Steve got a sign right, she’d throw an M&M his way so he could catch it in his mouth. It was something they’d started doing together at Scoops Ahoy with various toppings.

M&M’s were much less messy.

Sure, the study and reward method was a bit juvenile, but it worked. Steve practiced, and he learned some basic signs. THANK YOU. PLEASE. SORRY. I KNOW. I DON’T UNDERSTAND. WHAT? AGAIN. He also learned random ones. BIRD. BASKETBALL. VAMPIRE. SODA.

And then, of course, the two of them learned the other essentials - words that they usually just had shared glances for.

HOT, for when an attractive customer came in. COMPLAIN, for when an annoying customer came in. FINISH, when their shift was over.

It worked. They started signing to each other instead of talking whenever possible. Robin let him have all the tasks he could do in the back room or by himself, and she handled a lot of the customers to cover for him. The pressure and stress Steve had been feeling started to melt away, and his headaches got better since he didn't have to focus so much all the time.

His parents knew about his condition, but they never talked much in the first place, so nothing really changed at home. He’d go to work and make do, and then he’d go home, and everything was alright.

About a week of study sessions later, Robin had an idea.

YOUR FRIENDS, she began. Steve stared at her and waited for her to elaborate. She took a deep breath. TELL-THEM YOU CAN.

Steve continued to stare at her quizzically. She was learning all the grammar and shit, and he was still on vocabulary.

MY FRIENDS…YES? He guessed, trying to mimic the one sign he couldn’t remember the meaning to. She shook her head.

C-A-N, she clarified. Steve thought about it. YOUR FRIENDS LOVE YOU, she continued, slower this time. SHOULD KNOW.

Steve sighed. He’d been avoiding Dustin a lot more these last few weeks, because he knew the smartass would figure him out in seconds.

Steve sighed, knowing Robin was right.

O-K, he agreed.

Dustin took it well. He had a lot of questions, but most of them Steve didn’t know the answers to. He quickly decided he would also learn some signs to support Steve. The support made Steve feel so relieved, he told all of his other friends. Well, he told the kids. Max. El. Will. Mike. Lucas. El and Will were planning on moving to California pretty soon with Jonathan and Joyce, so El decided it would be good for her to practice writing letters to Steve, since she’d be doing long distance with Mike and all. Lucas and Mike also made an attempt at learning signs, but they were even shittier at it than Steve was - which honestly made Steve feel even better. They treated it like a secret code they all were learning - kind of like the weird phrases they insisted on saying whenever they used the walkie talkies.

It was all very cute.

Since Steve wasn’t in school, he ended up practicing sign language during most of his free time. It felt good to be doing something for himself. It made him feel smart, and he didn’t feel smart that often. Robin also picked it up pretty fast, which was to be expected.

But then, all of a sudden, school was starting again, and everyone was busy. Steve continued to work and study ASL, but he didn’t have as many shifts with Robin. He would drive the kids to school and to their clubs and stuff, but it was impossible to communicate with a bunch of kids in the car. He went on dates, but the talking part of it all didn’t really work out. He wasn’t connecting with anybody, and he couldn’t understand them half the time. Plus, most of his date spots required loud noises - movies, sports games, etc. He’d go out with women, and he’d have a decent albeit exhausting time trying to keep up, and then sometimes they’d have sex, but if he was being honest - he wasn’t even really enjoying sex as much anymore.

Crazy, right? He couldn’t believe it either.

He was isolated, but getting by. He kept spending down-time at work watching videos about sign language that he’d borrowed from the library, and everywhere he went he tried to think of the sign for what he saw. TREE. CAR. LIGHT. RESTAURANT. BICYCLE. HOUSE. BOOK. STORE.

Eventually, it all started coming together.

It was October - Halloween season. Considering what had happened last Halloween, Steve wasn’t too thrilled about it. Neither were some of the kids, primarily Will and El. Times had been tough for El especially after losing Hopper, and Steve knew that. It seemed like she had a decent support system though. Jonathan’s mom had taken her in, and she was dating Mike as well. She’d be okay, Steve hoped.

Then came the big moving day for the Byers and El. Steve had to admit he was a bit jealous. He’d wanted to get out of Hawkins forever, but now he had Dustin and Robin tying him there.

Jonathan got to escape this town and he was dating Nancy? Such bullshit.

Not that Steve was pining over Nancy anymore. He’d always love her, in a way, but he’d moved on. They didn’t work together, and that was that. Over and out, as the kids would say on their stupid walkie talkies.

Anyway, El may have been alright, but Steve had his doubts about Will. He didn’t really know how to broach the subject, but he noticed that when he picked the kids up, Will was usually pretty quiet.

An outsider, kind of like Steve.

So, when moving day arrived, Steve offered to help. He knew that Nancy and Jonathan would be there and their farewells would be a whole thing he had no interest in being around for, but he was pretty strong and he could carry boxes and help the kids, at least.

But when he showed up, he saw Will in the backyard by himself. Steve gave a small wave, then slowly approached the kid and sat down beside him.

WHAT’S-UP, Steve signed. It was one of the signs he taught all the kids. Will shrugged. Steve watched Will intently as he waited for his response.

“I don’t want to move,” Will said. “I like my house. And my friends.” Will caught himself, realizing he knew an applicable sign, then added FRIENDS. Steve smiled.

UNDERSTAND, he replied. That was another sign he taught the kids. “This sucks.”

“How do you sign that?” Will asked. “That it sucks.”

Steve knew that one, obviously. He knew a lot of signs now, but that was one he used a lot. He brought the tip of his pointer finger to his chin and frowned. Will repeated the action, then raised his eyebrows. Steve nodded in approval. Will’s hands dropped back into his lap, and the forlorn look on his face came back.

“I guess I just -” Will began, averting his eyes from Steve and staring in the distance. “They’re gonna forget about me here. They’re already -” He sighed. “It feels like I’m being left behind, even though I’m the one leaving.” Steve nodded gently, understanding the feeling all too well.

Will was the member of the party Steve had interacted with the least, probably because the other kids were a bit - uhhh - louder. Dustin and Steve were like brothers, Lucas and Steve could talk about basketball, El and Max were by no means close with Steve but he still felt like a surrogate older brother to them, and Mike was -

Okay, Mike and Steve didn’t really get along. That was to be expected, considering everything. They weren’t mean to each other or anything, they were just awkward and mildly annoyed with each other most of the time.

Will was different. Steve had been filled in on what happened to Will through Dustin, and it was - well, yeah. Will had it rough. And no one ever really talked about it. It was like, Will went through this whole traumatic thing, but he was back to “normal” now, so everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine, and he was getting sick and tired of pretending it was.

Whoops. Okay. Maybe Steve was connecting with Will more than he anticipated he would.

That was probably where a lot of the disconnect came from with everyone in Steve’s life except for Robin. The two of them had been tortured together for hours underground. Steve got the brunt of it. And they were drugged and threatened and nearly killed dozens of times. But they escaped and got out and then they were fighting a giant monster and fireworks were going off and then people died and there was no space for Steve to talk about what had happened to him.

He probably needed a therapist, but if he saw a shrink his dad would never let him hear the end of it. Besides, how could he explain any of his trauma to them? He couldn’t talk about it with anyone except his close group of friends, and he didn’t want to burden them with it, so he just…didn’t talk about it.

Steve wanted to say so many things to Will, but he also felt like he had no right to give any advice on friends or happiness. Steve had left the majority of his friends behind, willingly, and he didn’t regret it, but he also was sad about it. He missed it in some weird, fucked up way he couldn’t explain. Especially Tommy. God, all they did was argue and get in each other’s faces, but they knew each other better than anyone else. The best and the worst of it - mostly the worst, though.

“Well, I won’t forget you,” Steve said, hoping the reassurance would provide some kind of comfort.

“You don’t know me,” Will replied. “And don’t you hate my brother?”

Oof. Valid argument, but still. Steve’s thoughts on Jonathan were…complicated, to say the least.

“I don’t hate him,” Steve responded. “And your brother isn’t you.”

When Steve spoke, he tried to translate it in his head. It had become a habit. HATE DON’T. YOU, YOUR BROTHER, NOT-SAME.

He was getting pretty good at the sign language thing.

“I’m probably just going to sit out here and be sad,” Will said with a shrug.

“Okay,” Steve replied. “Is it okay if I sit here and be sad too?”

Will turned to Steve, confused at first, but then his face relaxed into something different. He nodded.

Everyone inside seemed to be doing just fine without them, anyway.

The Byers (and El) moved to California. Lucas, Dustin, and Mike joined Hellfire club, which they were really excited about. The first few times Dustin had told Steve about it, the dipshit was so excited Steve only got like half of what he was being told. For example, he thought the boys were getting ready to drink champagne for the first time or something, which was weird, but whatever. Kids are weird. And then later he realized they were preparing for a campaign.

They had shirts. Steve recognized the shirts. Then, it all made sense.

He’d heard of Hellfire before. They were kind of hard to miss. They were the exact opposite of cool, even though Dustin seemed to think that wasn’t the case. An underground sort of cool, he’d explained.

Yeah. Sure, buddy.

Steve knew from his years at Hawkins High that those guys were not treated with any sort of respect. The only popularity they had was the negative kind. People knew who they were, and they stayed away. They were weird.

At the same time, Steve wasn’t surprised the boys had joined. It was a Dungeons and Dragons club, after all - Of course, Steve didn’t actually make that connection until Dustin had made him aware. He wasn’t sure what he thought Hellfire did back when he was in school, but it certainly wasn’t a nerdy roleplaying game. They gave off a different vibe. Like, a chaotic anarchist kind of vibe. Most of Steve’s perception came from the guy who led it - Eddie Munson, the school freak. That’s what they called him. Steve and Eddie had never really interacted, because why would they have? They were both seniors when Steve graduated, but Eddie was a year older. And he still hadn’t graduated.

Tough deal.

Anyway, Dustin was obsessed with Eddie. He worshiped the guy, basically. And Steve couldn’t help but be a little jealous - not that he’d ever admit that, of course. But Dustin was around Eddie more often, and they could talk about things they enjoyed freely and without having to stop every ten seconds to repeat themselves.

So, yeah. Steve was bitter about it.

He usually picked the kids up from Hellfire after school, because the “champagnes” (no, they never let Steve live that one down) sometimes went pretty late. Plus, Steve was the wheels in most circumstances - he drove Robin to school every morning, too.

He was probably at Hawkins High more often than he had been when he attended the damn school.

Anyway, one night in particular, Steve waited outside the drama club room for Lucas, Mike, and Dustin to walk out and hop in the car like they always did, but they were running late.

Again. Oh, joy.

Steve parked the car and headed inside, only to find everything packed up (thankfully), but everyone was still absorbed in conversation.

Steve couldn’t follow. They were all talking over each other and about things that he didn’t really understand well in the first place. Plus, there was music playing in the background, which muddied everything else in his brain. So, he waited and watched them interact. And then everyone was looking at him, and he didn’t know why.

“What?” Steve asked, totally lost. He turned to the boys, who all tried to explain what Steve had missed in their own way. Steve caught them flashing a few signs his way. JOKE. IGNORE. HE DON’T-KNOW.

Ehh, Steve kind of pieced it together. Eddie probably made some sort of comment about how awkward Steve was being without knowing why. It was probably for the best that Steve didn’t hear it. Instead, he turned to Eddie so he could share what was going on.

But then, Eddie signed to him.

YOU DEAF?

Steve’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He nodded. YOU SIGN?!

MOM DEAF, Eddie explained. Before Steve had the chance to ask a follow-up question, Eddie answered one of them. MOM DEAD NOW. Eddie turned away to face the boys, then pivoted back to Steve. BEFORE, COULD HEAR. RIGHT? HAPPEN WHEN?

Eddie’s signing skills seemed almost natural. Clearly he’d been doing it for ages. Steve nodded.

NEW, he explained. He was blanking on the sign for “recent” due to the fact that he was so stunned. MY SIGNING… Oh, God. Steve couldn’t remember how to say anything. He wanted to say that he was still learning, so he wasn’t that good. Instead, he did the universal hand gesture for “iffy,” which worked well enough. The boys and the other club members all watched this interaction in awe as Eddie processed this with a small nod.

O-K, Eddie replied.

And that was it. Eddie went back to talking to the boys, and presumably dismissed them as they all scattered away to collect their bags. Eddie wasn’t even looking at Steve.

That was kind of a bummer.

Up until then, Steve hadn’t met anyone else who signed (except for Robin), so this was kind of huge. At the same time, it was Eddie. Like, Steve had come a long way from his King Steve days, but the dude was a loose cannon. He was always drawing attention to himself and jumping on tables and shit. They had nothing in common, originally, but now they had two gigantic things in common - Dustin and sign language.

Steve took the kids home as he usually did, but he didn’t even attempt to focus on what they were saying. Besides, he was still thinking about, well, everything.

A part of him was annoyed, because of course the other older brother figure for Dustin was cool enough to know sign language. Of course. The other part of him was over the moon. He had someone to talk to and practice with. Although, that was only if Eddie was interested, which he very well might not have been. Plus, it was also kind of against the rules of the school. The jock and the freak spending time together? It just didn’t happen.

Then again, Steve wasn’t going to Hawkins High anymore. He could make his own rules.

He couldn’t wait to tell Robin about all of this. She was going to lose her damn mind.

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#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #robin buckley #writing #steddie fic #songs that voices never share #st fic #eddie munson x steve harrington #deaf steve harrington

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nonclassyparty · 2 years ago

Text

saturday, 23:33 (j.wy)

title; lately, i've been crying like a tall child so please, hurry, leave me, i can't breathe, please don't say you love me

summary; wooyoung is your sworn enemy but hooking up with him becomes a habit you just can't seem to quit (gen v au)

notes; part four of a drabble series called 'rule of thumb' set in the gen v universe where y/n is a bigender superhero and wooyoung is a blood bender. drabbles are posted in chronological order, there is no updating schedule.

playlist // my main masterlist // click to donate to palestine

you found out wooyoung loves cuddling soon after the first time you two had sex on an actual bed. now, every time you both come and you're left panting, he's still for a moment or two before he wraps himself around you. tucks his face in the crook of your neck and drags his fingers lazily up and down your back.

truthfully, you like cuddling as well. especially after sex and especially with wooyoung because he's so soft and cute and gentle and warm and it's intimate and you pretend to hate it for no other reason but to fulfill your role as his self-appointed enemy.

but usually when wooyoung...cuddles you, apart from the occasional caresses which you both act like they aren't happening because they're simply to affectionate and intimate, he just sticks to you and stills like a bag of rocks. which is why now, when his feet keep moving ruffling up his sheets and he can't stop squirming against your back, you know something is bothering him.

"what's wrong?" you crane your neck to look at him and his head jumps up, eyes wide, from where he was buried into the back of your neck.

"nothing." he says quickly, feet stilling. you blink at him a couple of times before slowly moving back around again. you should probably leave soon but it's just way too warm and comfortable here with him, it's hard to get up from the cocoon you two built.

but then you catch a glimpse in his mirror, set up in the far corner of the room and you feel mortified.

"sorry." you say quickly, shifting back into your female form and squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. no wonder he was squirming, you made him uncomfortable and he was too nice to say something.

unconsciously shifting like this keeps happening more and more often when you're with wooyoung which proves nothing but that you feel incredibly comfortable and safe with him. which would be ideal with anyone else but this...this isn't exactly good, it isn't what you wanted. this was supposed to be just sex.

"what? no. no. why?" you hear him as he shifts to sit up, leaning on his elbow to look at you. you turn to him again, puzzled. "you don't have to do that. i mean...what i mean to say is, you can be whatever you want with me."

you scoff, turning your back to him again. yeah, right.

"i'm serious. you can be whatever you-"

"i want to be like this." you say, quickly interrupting him.

he sighs after a moment of silence where you don't see his face to be able to guess what's going on in his head. "okay. but can you shift for just a second again?"

"why?"

"just to show you something...does it bother you that i asked that?"

"no."

"no, you won't shift or no, it doesn't bother you?"

you sigh with an eyeroll, "no, it doesn't bother me."

"then...can you?"

you blink at your reflection in the mirror, tempted to say no just to spite him but the curiosity gets the best of you, so you do.

you look at him over your shoulder again and wooyoung's soft eyes roam over your features slowly. his hair is all fluffed up and messy and his cheeks are slightly tinged pink.

he places one hand on your cheek and leans down to kiss you.

you let out a soft sound of surprise before it melts along with the rest of you as wooyoung's lips brush against your own while his thumb softly runs across your cheekbone.

when he pulls away, you're quick to turn the other way again as your cheeks burn a bright red and you start feeling sooooooo shy and giddy. what the fuck was that.

another moment of silence passes and wooyoung nestles against your back again, his lips brushing against the back of your neck when he sees that you don't plan on acknowledging that ever happened..

his hand that was draped over you, slowly starts playing with your pointer finger.

he clears his throat, his soft breaths against your naked skin sending shivers down your spine.

"i'm sorry about what i said after...the first time." he confesses quietly against the skin at the back of your neck.

you freeze in his hold, you're much broader than him in this form and he isn't even visible in the mirror in front of you because you're completely covering him but you never felt tinier.

"it's whatever." you murmur, certainly not in the mood to think about the night in the grimy bathroom of that club, clearing your own throat, "it's fine."

"it's not fine. i wasn't thinking clearly and i hurt you. i'm sorry." he says, fingers still paying with yours.

"it's whatever, it's not like we're anything so-"

"don't say that!" he drops your hand to sit up on his elbow again and you turn to lay on your back because being face to face during conversations like these feels like the polite thing to do no matter how much you wish to hide away. wooyoung seems hurt, "we're friends, aren't we?"

"friends?" you scoff, not quite understanding why you're being so mean. maybe because friends don't usually feel or think about their friends the way you do about wooyoung. "friends that do nothing but fuck?"

it's an attempt at a joke that doesn't land with wooyoung. tough crowd. "we do more than that."

"that's..." you trail off, feeling like your whole defense about this is not awfully strong because you know that he's right. you are friends, in the last few months you haven't spent more time with another person than you did with wooyoung.

so instead, you derail the conversation into a different territory, "what i was trying to say is, that just because you think you're attracted to me-"

"which i am!" he interrupts but you ignore him.

"-and still feel like you're straight then there's not much else to discuss here."

he huffs, sitting up again. "i don't think i'm straight."

your brows raise a bit at that as you sit up along with him, you keep your voice soft, "okay, thank you for telling me."

"i don't know what i am but i know i'm not straight."

you sit next to him, fiddling your thumbs. "it's okay not to know."

he turns to you and you feel your stomach drop. wooyoung, who is always so loud and boisterous, bordering on obnoxious, has never looked more vulnerable. "i don't know what i am but i know that i like you. whatever you are y/n, i like you."

"you-...we're not anything." you repeat, not knowing what else to say and yet forgetful of the way it hurt wooyoung the first time and now you just doubled down on it. you want to run away, which is the least superhero thing ever.

but try hard as they may to make a superhero out of you, they don't exactly try to teach you how to deal with these feelings.

wooyoung narrows his eyes, "i can hear your heartbeat accelerating so it means you're lying."

"fuck you." no seriously, fuck him and his cool superpowers. "you barely even know me."

he frowns, "you're the person i've spent the most time with in these past couple of months, we know each other plenty. and we do a lot of stuff friends do."

scoffing, "yeah, like what?"

he hums, laying down again and pulling on your arm until you lie down next to him, both turned on your sides and face to face, "we train together-"

"that's a colleague at the same university that share the same class type of thing. we're basically co-workers."

he gives you a dry look, you smile innocently. he rolls his eyes, "we get coffee together and we cuddle up in the booth and talk about our favorite old movies. and we go to that food stand all the time now after our training sessions. and we like the same music although you like those weird obscure bands that have, like, seven monthly listeners on spotify-"

"hey-"

"and you think i'm funny and i think you're funny as well-"

"i don't think you're funny-"

he sighs, "yeah, you do. and we share clothes-"

"we have very different definitions of sharing. normally, your sharing would be other people's stealing-"

"what i'm trying to say is," he ignores the accusations of being a thief you throw his way, "we're friends and i have a right to care about you."

you're friends. being friends with wooyoung was all you ever wished for when you first started attending classes at godolkin. you always thought the motherfucker was cool.

fuck him.

"fine." you say, "we're friends."

you think it will suck to lose such a nice friend when it all inevitably crashes and burns.

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut

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landinrris · 1 year ago

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ohmygod you have GOT to write a drabble about the norrix shirtgate of march 2024 ™️ please

Oh ho ho something like this? Last night Taylor wrote some dialogue that popped into my head (as I have been doing lately), and this afternoon Taylor fleshed it out a bit. This is more in line with a reaction to the shirt + the Instagram photo, but still, same idea and same crazy.

Lando’s just finishing toweling his hair when his phone starts ringing. It’s nine in the morning— probably Max calling to see where he is and if he can have another fifteen minutes on their scheduled meet-up time.

The caller ID isn’t Max though. It’s Martin, a selfie of the two of them from Australia smiling up at Lando from where his phone is sitting on the bathroom counter. Lando quickly counts back the ten-hour time difference and is surprised Martin’s even still awake after the long day he’s had.

Beggars can’t be choosers though. Lando slides his finger across the answer button and presses the speakerphone before Martin has a chance to say anything. “Hello?”

Lando directs his attention back to his reflection in the mirror and sets about sorting out the tangled mop on top of his head.

“Are you trying to get me to out myself?” Martin asks point-blank, sounding semi-serious. Given the hour, he could also just be tired.

Lando’s fingers pause in his hair, and he glances back down at the phone as if it holds all the answers. “In what way?” It clicks in the few seconds between Lando finishing his question and Martin speaking again. He could easily correct himself but finds he wants to hear Martin admit to whatever embarrassing reaction he had to Lando’s post.

“Those pictures? In the shirt you stole from me? You did that on purpose.”

Lando can’t help the self-satisfied and questioning hum that makes it past his lips. Because Martin's right, almost. He didn't originally set out with the intention to take the photos wearing that shirt, but Lando woke up missing Martin a little harder in his jet-lagged state than he was prepared to. So, he shrugged on the shirt he’d stolen on the tail end of their France trip even though everyone would inevitably trace the origin of it. (Lando had caught Max trying to pretend he wasn’t looking at first, but rather than put him out of his misery, Lando let him stew.)

And then they'd stumbled across the new art that hadn't been in the graffiti alley last year. Max had looked at him knowingly, suggestively, this time not hiding what he was trying to infer, and Lando had taken the bait.

Only later, as he was looking through the photos, up early again because of jet lag, did Lando decide fuck it.

He and Martin talked about their plans for the year while they were in Vietnam, zipped inside their tent for the night and alone with their thoughts. They're not hiding anymore per se, themselves or their relationship. Lando’s finished with not just posting whatever the hell he wants because of what it’ll eventually look like.

Hide in plain sight, Martin agreed.

Now Martin groans somewhat dramatically. “Menno had to take my phone. My fingers were hovering over the keyboard for too long and he caught me.”

“They were not.” Because there’s no way. If Lando didn’t know better, he’d think Martin was reacting to the more blatant thirst traps in his .mov post.

“Lando, baby, have you seen the photos? And you didn't warn me. What do you expect me to do when you’re sitting there looking comfortable and proud like that?”

Just the implication makes Lando's face warm and his chest ache. It’s at least another month before they see each other in China, and the days feel exponentially long looking at a calendar. “I expect you to be a normal human who doesn’t feel like risking it all over an aesthetic picture. At least wait until I post another thirst trap,” Lando muses. He turns to prop his hip up against the counter and picks up the phone to bring it closer to his face to pull up Instagram.

Most of the comments are normal, taking the aesthetic at face value. A few people play into the tone of the bubblegum pink hearts. A few more seem to have the nerve to call him on what he’s trying to do.

“Post a thirst trap and see what happens.”

The smile that spreads across Lando’s face hurts his cheeks. “Maybe that’s in tomorrow’s dump. Guess you’re gonna have to go to bed to find out.”

A huff of laughter from Martin’s side of the phone might as well be music to Lando’s ears. “Fine, you freak. You can tell me about everything when I’m not about to fall asleep. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Can’t wait. Talk to you later.” The line goes quiet, much to Lando’s disappointment. He swears he could talk to Martin forever and not get bored— about everything and nothing at all. When Martin calls him at the end of his day, rested and recovered, Lando’s sure he’ll hear all about how the half marathon went. He’ll be on the brink of passing out himself, but he won’t care. He’ll lay there listening and counting down the days until next time.

#don't ask me why i just like writing their phone conversations but i have approximately 5 (including this) snippets of just convos #I think the idea is to maybe do something with them eventually but here's this one for now #norrix #writing tag #lando #martin

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