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thevirtualvalentine · 1 year

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TAPE THREE : PASSENGER PRINCESS !

Starring … ‘Red Hair’ Shanks 📸

SET SCRIPT : “Hey Babbyyyy congrats on 100! For your lovely followers event could I request afab reader with Dads best friend Shanks n some sprinkles of corruption :3 I love youuu bae mwah 😮‍💨🤍”

MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, AGE GAP, use of the title “daddy”, corruption kink, underlying breeding kink (if you squint), Shanks mysteriously has 2 arms, forced orgasm, you’re Mihawks daughter, afab!femme reader.

DIRECTORS CUT : For one of my favorite people on this app @stargirldelight <33 so sorry this took me forever to get to. Apologies, Shanks brings out an unprecedented daddy kink in me I didn’t know I had …

Moving is already stressful enough, add the fact that your dad can’t seem to help you out this weekend and voila; you’re in a pinch. He’s typically off on some sort of exploit around the world anyways, a stoic mystery of sorts. But, your dad did suggest that he come help you move into your new apartment.

Which is fine and all, but you’re not sure how you’re gonna last the already tumultuous move in with Shanks around. He’s your dads best friend, or enemy, you’re honestly not quite sure.

Ever since you were a teen you admired shanks, his warm fuzzy smile, how stern he got when he was mad, and that damn signature red hair of his that you can always pick out from a crowd. You expected to grow out of it as you got older, but you could never quite kick the habit. His voice smooth like honey when he’d stumble in with your father drunk, or when he said bye after helping you move in for college. He’s really your fantasy come true, a handsome man with unmistakable charm that makes you smile even on days you don’t have reason to.

You’re older now, you should be able to handle this. But a man like him ages akin to fine wine, only becoming more and more attractive as the years gain on him. Granted, there was an age gap between you; which is what typically kept your lewd thoughts of him in check.

He’d drive this red dodge charger every time he picked you up when your dad couldn’t, like now. Red hair flowing in his face as you coasted down the highway. He smiles and asks if the boys your age were treating you right while his fingers dance along your shoulders. “Pft, I wish,” you aimlessly laughed, noting that exactly what you desired in a man was right next to you.

“Whaaaat? Cmon’ a pretty girl like you? Really?” He sounded genuinely disturbed by this confession of yours. “You deserve better sweetheart.” His eyes flickering back to the road as you’re a few hours out from your new town.

“I really don’t go out much y’know, and it’s not like I have anything to offer them,” your heard turns as you mumble into your fist. Embarrassed to let the older gentleman know just how little play you get. The compliment he gave you flies right over your head as you try to mask the growing ache for Shanks in your heart (and pussy). He’s always been sweet like this to you, patient and gentle as he places a reassuring hand on your knee. You think nothing of it.

“I don’t believe it, they don’t know what they’re missing. I woulda been all ov-” clearing his throat before continuing, “maybe they’re just not what you need.” He turns the music down as the conversation begins to flow more naturally, tension sparking like electricity in the air as he pushes further and further.

“Oh? And what do I need.” You flash him that look of mischief, one that was saved for when you’d ask him to bail you out of punishment with your dad.

“Someone who could treat you how you deserve, a real man and not some boy.” He can’t control the possessive tone that exits his mouth, it’s just unbelievable to him. After all these years and all those meaningless break ups you’d go through, it was him whose arms you’d cry into. Too drunk off cheap liquor with the sweet but sickly scent of vodka hanging off your breath. But of course, he’d listen. Always the patient type.

“And do I know a man like that? Sounds like you wanna be that guy Shanks,” it was only a joke. Your voice airy as you moved your hair out of your lipgloss. Highway wind was never kind to you.

“Don’t play with me,” and he’s back to serious. The coolness of his words sends a shiver up your spine.

“What if I meant it, hm? What if I wanted you to show me?” Your eyes now burning holes in the sides of his face, his jaw clenches as he battles with his own morality.

“You don’t think I’m a little too old for you?” He sends a glance your way, one that trails from your low cut tank top to the supple skin of your thighs before he’s back to gripping the gear shift.

“Said it yourself, I need a real man,” your knees turn to face him as you let your voice purrr. Mihawk would kill him if he found out about this, but he’s never truly been afraid of the man anyways. Especially not when his daughter is as pretty as you, there’s just so much you don’t know, so much he could show you. It drives him wild.

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” Eyes straight on the road, but the unmistaken waiver in his voice let’s you know he just needs one final shove before he tumbles down like dominos.

“I’m asking for you Shanks,” you plant a sweet kiss to his cheek; just how you used to when he’d leave town for months on end and you didn’t know when you’d see him again.

For once it’s his turn to be flustered, if he wasn’t so concerned about keeping both eyes on the road he’d grab you himself. “Behave little girl, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

You squirm in your seat, the problem is you know exactly what you’re getting into. It’s finally what you’ve wanted for years. For the object of desire in his mind to be aimed at you, for your affections to be reciprocated, to be with him instead of being viewed as his best friends daughter.

You’ve driven to your new town before so you’re aware that wherever he’s driving isn’t the right way, “Shanks?”

“What? Thought I was supposed to show you.” A light chuckle leaves him as you’re parked in the back corner of a parking lot, headlights turned off.

“Come here hun,” he pushes his seat back urging you to crawl over to him. It feels so right to be held by him, yet so wrong at the same time it makes butterflies swirl around in your stomach. The lack of space pushing you closer to him as his steady breathing makes you feel safer.

“Be gentle Shanks, I’ve only done it one time before.” At that his jaw clenches. A cute thing like you only getting fucked once? It almost makes his blood boil, yet it turns sick when he realizes all he can teach you right here and now. How tight your cunt will grip him as he makes you bounce up and down on him. Oh, Mihawk will kill him indeed; that is if he ever finds out about how he’s stretching out your pussy.

His hands feel so warm on you, rubbing and groping at your skin while you get comfortable. All the attention from him at once makes your head spin, growing needier to get on with it already. “You don’t want it like that though, do you?” It’s barely above a whisper, a nasty vile secret that he somehow knows. All you can do is whimper as he ravages your neck in rough kisses, lips lingering over your pulse points. His years of experience showing as he makes you writhe.

“You want it rough don’t you, t’s ok doll you can tell daddy the truth.” He grins at your hardy whine, swallowing it down in a kiss that devours you from the inside out. His tongue invades your mouth, overpowering yours.

He’s perfect, exactly how you imagined he’d be. Strong arms guiding you further up his lap, helping you wrap your arms around the base of his neck. “Shanks .. more please—” your face hot as you plead for more of him. Feeling how stiff he is makes pride swell within you, was that really your doing? All you’ve done is kiss him, but he groans each time you lean further into his touch.

He leaves pepper kisses on your face and eyelashes, pulling back to look for any doubt on your complexion. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, tugging on one of your curls before wrapping it around his finger. Too intimate, far too intimate for the debauchery he’s about to lay on you.

“Spread those pretty legs wider f’me, there you go,” his phrasing patient as his knees open wider beneath you. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance while you wait in anticipation for anything… “where do you want me to touch you baby,” his eyes meet yours, “here?” His middle and index finger graze the thin cloth of your shorts.

You nod your head profusely, looking down at the space between you with your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Shanks snakes his fingers within your walls, teasing the entrance lightly while using your slick to slide in and out slowly. “Remember, breathe,” the slight sting keeps your hold on him firm as you try to adjust. In and out, rhythmically, the pads of his fingers glide along your plush walls.

Your airy chants of his name fill the darkening small space of his cramped car. Hips beginning to bounce on his hand, desperation creeping in with each drag of his fingertips inside you. “Look at you, suckin my fingers in. Almost like you don’t wanna let them go,” he marvels at you, moving your shorts out of the way so he has a clearer view of your insatiable pussy.

“S’creamy, you been thinking about me?” Bold for him to say, he acts like he’s not knuckle deep inside you with reckless abandon for his position in all this. You’re oozing down his wrist as his fingers begin to scissor back n forth.

“Kiss me Shanks,” you ask.

“Of course baby,” he replies.

It’s always him who spoils you, giving you what you ask for. How could he deny you of such a sweet request? The squelch of your wetness grows while a tight knot tries to unravel itself within you.

“Not yet, can you wait for daddy just a lil more?” He can feel that too? Embarrassment hot on your face while your hips grind against his palm.

It’s indecent how sexy he is, toned chest peaking through his shirt, tongue slightly sticking out as he preps you for his fat length, and his deep even voice that praises every movement of your body.

His entry inside you is smooth, almost like he was meant to fit you perfectly. “Oh my god Shanks f-fuck wait—” Your head is spinning, you can feel his dick twitch with each convulse of your own walls.

He doesn’t mind that you’re clutching onto him hard enough to draw blood, no not at all, honestly it’s making him want to burry himself deeper. “Shhh baby, I got you. I got you, just breathe.” Not yet though, he can’t hurt you (too bad). Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes but he’s quick to wipe them with his thumb. Kissing your collarbones as if to apologize for the molding his cock does to your needy warmth.

The pain subdues, giving way to a hunger you can’t quite describe; but quiet mouths don’t get fed. “Gimmie more Daddy, please,” truthfully the name slipped out, but the damage was done as it left a shiver to creep up the red heads spine.

Well, how could he say no to that? His hands move from your waist down, molding the skin of your ass as he pleases while his hips experimentally shift up and down. When he hears you sigh in pleasure he knows he’s found the right angle. “Better hold on, gonna give it to you just how you want it love.” It’s in how he reassures you that he’ll take care of you that allows you to let go, letting this be your reality instead of some sick sex dream.

His strength is unreal, he’s lifting you with no problem and then pushing you down again and again. It feels like he’s impaling you, knocking your breath out with each rise and fall of your oozing cunt. “Mhm, fuckkk. Been thinking about this for a long time.” The space between you both lessens as the heat rises, giving way to an erotic composition of pleasure.

Any composure you had flies out the window as you’re left dumb and drooling as the only thing that can leave your mouth is praises of his name. Incoherent babbling about how you never want it to stop, losing yourself in the heat of his body. “So slutty baby, what would your dad think, huh?” He lets his palm rest against your stomach as you continue to bounce. Eyeing where his own outline is visible within you.

“Nasty girl, felt the way you got tighter around me. You want him to know? Know that it’s me fuckin’ his pretty daughter in my car.” His words alone are enough to make that tight band snap instantly with little buildup, robbing you of your ability to think as you cry out meek thank you’s to Shanks. He pulls you back by the hair, watching the way your face contorts as you cream around him; squeezing his cock like a vice.

The flutter of your walls spurs him on, picking up an animalistic pace as you’re used to bring him his own high. Sweat making his hair stick to his forehead as your vision focuses back in. “Think you can do it again? I know you can love.”

You’re unsure what he means but when you feel his thumb start to circle at your clit you’re a goner. The intensity of your last climax causes you to squirm as he tries to rip another out of you. “Stop fuckin running.” When Shanks wants something, he always gets it. That’s the rule. You are no exception.

He can feel his balls tensing at the obscene squelch each thrust into your cunt provides him, he knows he’ll have to wash these seats later; but for now he’s gonna dump his load in his best friends hot daughter.

“Let go.” A harsh drag of his thumb has you coming undone yet again, spurring Shank’s own orgasm where he drags you down flush against him. No where to run as his hot seed fills you to the brim. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff baby.”

You’re left convulsing as you try to catch your breath, slumping against his chest like a noodle. “Di.. dirty old bastard,” you weakly protest, slamming your fist into his chest.

“And yet you still wanna fuck this dirty old bastard,” he says with a laugh, peeling you off his chest to kiss you with nothing but teeth. He suckles on your tongue, making you whimper as he’s still inside you. “That’s what I thought,” he says satisfied.

Maybe he’ll have to be like Mihawk, taking out of town trips. However, he knows exactly where he’ll be going. Right where you are.

Enjoy? Reblog & click 2 see event masterlist!

#˗ˏˋ VALENTINES 100 FOLLOWERS EVENT ˎˊ˗#shanks #shanks smut #shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #shanks x you #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece thirsts #literally creamed writing some of this ngl

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blenderfullasarcasm · 7 months

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"You haven't laughed in a long time, so I guess I was staring cause I forgot what that looked like."

They're gettin' lunch in Heiji's favorite okonomiyaki place (the one that must have been blessed by somethin' powerful because he's never once run into a case there, even when he's hangin' out with Kudou), because he and Kudou have spent the last few hours figurin' out who killed the jerkass manager at one of the fancy stores a few blocks away. It's already three in the afternoon and they're starvin'. Okonomiyaki is fast, cheap, close by, and, most importantly, murder free.

(Probably. Who knew, with Kudou's luck.)

Kudou's squintin' down at the menu, studyin' it carefully like there's more than ten options. He absentmindedly raises one hand to push up his glasses, but ends up pokin' himself in the nose because he doesn't hafta wear 'em anymore.

Kudou blinks rapidly, surprised, then glances at Heiji like he's hopin' he didn't notice.

Heiji snorts and grins back at him smugly. No such luck there.

Kudou scowls at him and sets his menu down pointedly.

A waitress appears instantly, takin' his movements as a cue to ask if he's ready to order.

Kudou obviously isn't, or maybe he's just in th' mood to annoy Heiji, because instead'a telling her what he wants he glances over at Heiji and says, "Why don't you order for me, hm?" like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

Heiji thinks Kudou should suck it up and get his eyes checked. He rolls his eyes and orders for him anyway. "Two'a my usual, thanks, Tanaka-san."

Kudou frowns and starts to open his mouth, but Heiji's already wavin' him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Extra green onions on mine, nunna them on yours."

Tanaka jots their orders down on her notepad and shoots 'em both a brief smile before leavin' to take the orders to the kitchen.

"That's not what I was going to say," Kudou says, even endin' his sentence with the stupid Tokyo 'sa' for emphasis, because he can never just let Heiji bask in the sweet, sweet satisfaction of finally bein' one step ahead'a him.

"You told Ran-san you were allergic to 'em to get outta eatin' 'em," Heiji reminds him.

Kudou scowls so hard it's almost a pout. "Maybe I like them now," he argues.

Heiji rolls his eyes. Yeah, right.

"Keep actin' like that and I'll call her back and tell her you're gettin' a kid's meal," Heiji grumbles, then thinks, oh shit.

He probably shouldn't joke about that yet.

Heiji looks up to apologize for puttin' his foot in his mouth, but before he can even open his lips, Kudou cackles.

Heiji can't help but stare, drinkin' in the bright sound of Kudou's voice as he laughs his ass off. He's actually wheezin', the elbow he's got braced on the table the only thing keepin' him from fallin' out of his chair, and his blue eyes sparkle with mirth when he glances up through his eyelashes at Heiji and starts laughin' even harder.

He hasn't seen Kudou laugh this hard in...ever, probably. Definitely not since he returned to his body and told Ran-san everything and she'd told him she needed time. (Kazuha woulda kicked his ass if he'd hidden from her in plain sight and lied to her face for years, so he's pretty sure Kudou's getting off easy.)

Heiji has to join in, even though the joke wasn't even that funny.

...He should probably stop starin' at the curve of Kudou's mouth, Heiji acknowledges to himself as Kudou's laughter starts to wind down.

(He doesn't, though.)

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Kudou asks, once he's finally stopped wheezin' long enough to take a couple deep breaths and suck in some desperately needed oxygen.

Heiji shrugs faux-casually. "Jus' haven't seen you laugh that hard in a minute, 's all. Kinda forgot what it looks like."

Somethin' a little bittersweet flashes behind Kudou's eyes, there an' gone again so quick that Heiji almost thinks he's imaginin' it.

Kudou clearly doesn't want to dwell on it, though, 'cuz all he says is, "Maybe so," before abruptly changin' the subject. "What did you order for me, anyway?"

Heiji smirks at him. "Why don't ya try deducing it, Heisei Holmes-san?"

Kudou's eyes flash again, but this time they're bright with the excited spark of challenge accepted.

---

written for this prompt game

#yeah i know technically it should be reiwa holmes now but that just doesnt have the same ring to it #heishin #hattori heiji #kudou shinichi #detective conan #meitantei conan #dcmk #case closed #tumblr ask game #send me asks

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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AITA for suggesting that my friend (A) NOT focus so much money into her little brother's (B) top surgery?

their family, while not toxic or abusive, is a little more close (or enmeshed?) than i ever was with mine. and thats great! it works for them and i love how much they care for each other. but A is 25 and married, significantly in debt, has a kid (on purpose) and her husband hasnt earned that much in the years since he went straight from high school to the work force. he now has a job getting like 25-30 an hour i think, but still thats not a lot for their situation. she had a salaried job (about 30k/year) but it wasnt working for her and she decided to quit. which i totally support, the position wasnt great for her and she wasnt great for the position. if she hadnt quit, she woulda been let go. she's looking for new jobs now.

anyway, all this to say, they are NOT flush with cash. and yet, every penny they have left after basic needs is being put toward B's top surgery- before even paying down their debt.

i especially want to know if i'm the asshole in a transphobic sense, because part of my reasoning is that B is a super skinny kid, and only 15 years old. he has an A cup at most. and the family had to jump through a million hoops to get permission or whatever for him to get his top surgery as gender affirming care.

i've brought up the idea that maybe B waits till he's 18 and gets it as an elective/cosmetic procedure, because the cost will be about the same to do that versus to get it as gender-affirming care under insurance. and that gives B time to save up his own money, and his family more time to organize their finances and contribute their parts. but A never seems to give a direct answer for why their family is so set on B getting his surgery before he's 18. of course i believe he should be allowed to by law and he shouldn't have has to go through so much trouble.

but B works summers only, at a low-paying job (ive worked the same job when i was a teen, it isnt enough to save up much) and is depending on his family for all this, even though his sister (A) and parents are all in rough spots financially. A just seems so stressed about money and i wonder if i'm the asshole for thinking she should just focus on her and her little immediate family for a while till theyre back on their feet. its noble and caring to be so invested in B getting the care he needs, but it's hurting A's finances, mental health, and family stress levels.

of course at the end of the day, it's none of my business. i'm A's friend, not life coach or money manager or anything else. i'm just curious what the aita voters think about all this. if i were to push the issue and make suggestions, would i be the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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quinloki · 10 months

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Random ass Eustass Kid one shot.

College AU I guess.

Reader just got dumped, no pronouns used. Kid calls ‘em Mouse because I love it when Kid calls the reader Mouse so you’re probably going to see that in Every Single Kid Fic I Ever Write.

SFW, comfort

Cheesy

“You alright?”

The gruff familiar voice crashes over you like rain, and you dry your tears hastily before glancing up at him. You can’t feign contact long though, and look away.

“Yeah.” You say, with a defeated huff.

There’s a pause, and it’s almost awkward. You’ve never known Kid to suffer awkwardness.

“You sure?” He prompts, sitting down beside you. There was no shaking him now, but you weren’t sure you wanted you to.

“Yeah.” You say a little more energetically. “I’ll make it.”

Kid snorts, looking around a little before he rummages in his pack and pulls out a candy bar and a soda. “Anything you want me to deal with?”

You laugh, a sharp barked sound, taking the offered snacks without arguing. You know what kind of help Kid’s good at, and it’s not diplomatic, that’s for fucking sure.

“Nah. It won’t fix it.” You admit, wiping a tear that’s pricked the side of your eye for a different reason.

“Might make ya’ feel better.” He offers, pulling out another soda and opening it for himself.

You smile, the concern is appreciated at least. “It… won’t. Is what it is, I just need to move on.”

“… it woulda made me feel better.” He grouses, and you look over to see his ears are pink.

You look away at the implication and busy yourself with the candy bar for a few long moments. It’s comfortable around him, always has been. He’s just too loud, too proud, too dangerous for you.

It wouldn’t work.

At least that had been what you told yourself when you’d turned him down, picking a different guy to date a few months ago. Kid had warned there wouldn’t be another chance, he wasn’t someone who waited around for a pretty piece of ass. It had almost been a fight between you two, the first real one you maybe ever had.

“I… thought you were gonna move on.” You murmur quietly.

The silence stretched on for long enough you figured that was the end of the conversation. Eustass Kid wasn’t going to dent his pride for someone, no matter who they were. One of the guys maybe, someone who’d been in his life for decades. You could see him pushing aside his pride for Killer or Heat or Wire, if he had no other choice.

Still, it was nice to have someone around while you shrugged off the pieces of a failed relationship. Besides, you wouldn’t risk treating Kid like some rebound.

You shift a little, trying to find the words to say farewell for now, but Kid gets up. A heavy hand ruffles your hoodie against your hair, pushing your head down as you grumble at him.

“When you’re ready to give some flaky loser another shot, Mouse, let me know first.” He says, in a voice that’s trying to sound flippant.

“You’re not a flaky loser,” you retort, scrambling to your feet. “I don’t want you to say that about-!”

Kid turns on his heel suddenly facing you, hand wrapped in your hoodie as he pulls you into a rough kiss.

The action shatters your brain, so sudden and desperate and needy you don’t know what to do but sink into him. The kiss breaks and his eyes are locked on yours, a crooked grin on his face.

“Not how I meant that, Mouse.” He hums, in a voice soft and sure and devastatingly sweet to your ears.

He lets you go, turning and walking away. “Think it over. I’m not stupid enough to let you go if you’re dumb enough to pick me.”

#quin muses #reader insert #x reader #eustass kid #one shots #one piece fanfiction #I typed this on my phone when I couldn’t stand working and needed a break #so please excuse any missed words or typos.

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angelatmidnight1 · 5 months

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A Helping Hand

A/N: This is just a self-indulgent fic I'm using as a springboard for another one. I'm in a Gale/Karlach/Astarion high right now. I'll get back to requests as soon as I can, and I hope you like the story!

Fandom- Baldur's Gate 3.

Pairing- Starts with Gale x Karlach (platonic, ler!Gale and lee!Karlach), and ends with Gale, Karlach, and Astarion (platonic, ler!Karlach, ler!Astarion, and lee!Gale).

Word Count- 2,532.

Warnings- Situated in Act 3 so potential for spoilers, also tickling and swearing.

Gale finally shows Karlach how to cast Mage Hand, another avenue of touch, and she’s thrilled by the doors it opens up. He invites her to explore touch with him and doesn’t account for her using it for more playful, nefarious reasons, like tickling. And, just when it couldn’t get any more chaotic, Astarion invites himself in on the fun, too…

“That’s it, Karlach. Try the incantation again.”

Gale spoke from behind the tiefling after he guided her hands into the right position. She was very warm to the touch, but touching her didn’t burn. Her engine was a source of curiosity for him ever since she’d joined the party way back when. But, instead of indulging that curiosity, he’d promised to show her how to cast Mage Hand. Karlach had gotten the incantation down more or less. He just had to make sure she had her hands in the right place. Magic was just as much a physical thing as a verbal one in Gale’s experience.

Karlach rigidly held her hands in position and repeated the incantation. “Veniam Iuva Me..” Her eyes brightened when the spectral hand emerged in front of her. “I got it!”

“Excellent,” Gale smiled. “Now, with a flick of the wrist, or a thought even, the hand will do as you command. You can pick things up, throw them, push the unfortunate goblin to their death…”

Karlach wasn’t fully listening; instead, she flexed and curled her fingers, and the mage hand mirrored her. “Yeah. Woulda been nice to have one of these when I got back to the Sword Coast.” She replied. “At least I’d have been able to touch something..”

She guided the hand across the Elfsong Tavern and picked up a tankard. She brought it back over to her and took a sip of the ale, exhaling deeply. “Aw, man. A girl could get used to this..”

Gale chuckled and picked up his own glass of wine. “Learning cantrips are only the beginning of a lifelong journey with magic. Cheers to taking that first step.”

Karlach happily clinked her tankard with his glass. She took another sip, her eyes sparkling with genuine wonder and curiosity. “So, I can touch anything with this hand, right?”

“Most things,” he corrected. “The mage hand can take damage just as our own. So, you couldn’t grab, say, the blade end of a sword. But you could wield said sword as an extension of yourself. It’s very handy in that regard.”

“Gods, the puns.” Karlach snickered. “And yeah, I’ll be sure to have one of these around when we beat the Absolute’s ass. But uh, I was thinking more along the lines of being able to, you know, hold someone’s hand? Maybe caress a face or two?”

“Of course. Here, if you’d like, you can explore the mage hand’s capabilities with me.” He finished his wine and stood in front of her. He extended his own hand. “I’m more than willing to offer myself as a test subject in the pursuit of knowledge.”

“Really? That’d be awesome!” Karlach brought the hand to Gale’s, palm to palm. She interlocked her fingers and the mage hand, as well as Gale, followed suit. “Thank you, Gale.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Gale allowed Karlach to explore his hand with the spectral one, watching it stroke across his fingers. The barbarian hummed in thought and moved further up his arm.

“So, what does this feel like?” She asked, moving the touches up to his wrist. “Doesn’t beat the real thing I suppose. But it is nice to have options.”

“Well, it’s very similar to the touch of another, minus the warmth of course.” Gale turned his palm towards the floor so she could go up his arm. “Maybe it is a lighter touch, too. Almost feather like..”

“Yeah?” When she reached his upper arm, she curled the fingers on the mage hand, gently squeezing into his skin. Gale fidgeted a little bit and exhaled through his nose. She raised a brow. “What? That doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No, quite the opposite, actually.” He chuckled. “Bit ticklish is all.”

“Huh.” Karlach hummed again, continuing to kneading into his upper arm. She smiled. “I didn’t really pick you as the ticklish type, with you being all proper and scholarly and whatnot.”

“Y-Yehehes, well…” Gale chuckled a bit more and tugged at his arm, but the mage hand held strong. After a few more attempts, Gale managed to get his arm free. “I can say with confidence that ticklishness doesn’t have a face. Why, even the strongest warriors can be—hey!”

Instead of going for his arms again, Karlach brought the mage hand towards his torso, prodding into his side. Gale again jumped away from the ticklish touch and giggled louder. He backpedaled and wrapped a protective arm around his torso. “Now, Karlach,” he warned. He suddenly felt a bit playful and grinned. “Choose your next actions carefully. Should you try to tickle me again, I will have no choice but to retaliate.”

He stepped further away from her, his hands glowing with magic. Karlach followed after him, snickering.

“Oh really?” Karlach challenged, returning the grin. “Heh, I’d like to see you try!”

Somewhere else in the tavern, sitting on his bed, was Astarion. His brow was knitted together in concentration as he sewed up a split seam on a shirt. Not his shirt, but Wyll’s. Now that they were back in Baldur’s Gate, Astarion believed looking the part was a high priority. He wouldn’t stand for his companions walking around in tattered clothes. Ideally, he’d find a clothing merchant and just steal their stuff, but he was willing to pace himself. He flinched when there was a sudden roar of laughter, Karlach’s laughter, and he grumbled under his breath. Did she always have to be so damn loud?

“Karlach, can you keep it down?” He called sharply. He refused to look up from what he was doing; he was nothing if not a perfectionist when it came to sewing. “Some of us have important things to do, and I need to concentrate.”

But instead of quieting down, Karlach’s laughter only got louder. A thud accompanied this wild laughter, and Astarion’s patience waned. He got up with a heavy sigh, putting his work on his end table. Then, he followed the source of the racket.

When he got to the next room, Karlach was prone on the floor, laughing her head off. Gale sat beside her with a smug smirk. Karlach’s mage hand was gone, and there was a purple aura emanating off of her: Gale’s variation of a Hold Person spell. Instead of completely immobilizing her, she was able to squirm around, though she didn’t get very far. The first place he squeezed was her hips, a terribly ticklish spot, and he was still kneading into them when Astarion entered the room.

“I warned you,” Gale was saying as he skittered his fingers across her torso. He honed in on her sides, and her loud laughter calmed into not as loud giggles. “We could’ve handled this civilly, but you forced my hand!”

Karlach squealed and wrestled with Gale’s hands, but her laughter had weakened her, and she was honestly having a blast. “Fahahahaha! I-I’ll gehehehet youhuhuhu bahahack! Youhuhuhu juhuhust wahahait!”

“Unlikely,” Gale snickered. “But I do admire your resolve.”

That’s when he summoned another mage hand and used it to poke at her ribs. Karlach’s frantic giggling mingled with snorts. Astarion fondly shook his head as he watched from afar.

“Having fun, darlings?” Astarion soon spoke over Karlach’s laughter. He stepped further into the room. He was initially annoyed, but Karlach’s laugh was highly contagious. He had to expend a good deal of effort not to giggle along with her. “I was wondering why Karlach was laughing so hard. I figured someone told a joke, fell on their arse maybe. But no, you’re just…tickling her. Adorable I suppose, but why?”

Gale looked up, joining the mage hand in pinching and scritching over Karlach’s ribs. She yelled and rolled from one side to the other, trying to dodge the hands. “Because I made the generous offer to teach her a spell, and she decided to turn on me,” he explained.. “I responded in turn by giving her a taste of her own medicine.”

“So I see,” Astarion hummed. “Well, I’d tell you two to keep it down, but that’s impossible with her hyena call. Maybe you’d like a hand?”

“NAAHAHOHOHO!” Karlach protested, shrieking when Gale’s hand jumped to her armpit. She immediately brought her arms down, trapping his hand, and her laughter went up two octaves. Gale continued to wriggle his fingers along her armpit, but having her arms down didn’t make it easy for him. He sent the mage hand to wrestle with her arm to try and pull it up. Gale regarded Astarion with a quick glance, nodding.

“I certainly won’t turn down the help—”

“Not you, Gale.” Astarion scoffed. He walked towards the duo. “Why, our poor fiery friend is in stitches, and you have the advantage of having literal magic at your fingertips. Helping you wouldn’t even begin to even the playing field..”

Gale’s gaze snapped back to the spawn. He halted his tickle attack, giving Karlach a break. “Now hang on, I wasn’t the one that started this.”

“But you are the one indirectly causing the noise, in a manner of speaking.” Astarion stepped with a purpose towards them. “I couldn’t even sew in peace.”

“That hardly seems fair!” Gale protested. Since he spent a lot of effort keeping Karlach in place and now had his sights on Astarion, both his concentration and his spell slots waned. That didn’t stop him from popping up from the floor and pointing a warning finger at him. “Don’t you dare, Astarion!”

Karlach wrapped both arms around her torso as they bickered. She didn’t mind tickling in the slightest, but Gale wasn’t going to weasel his way out of her well deserved revenge. Especially when she now had a partner in crime. While she was laying on the floor, she grabbed a fistful of the end of Gale’s robe and pulled him down with her. Gale screamed and, before he knew it, Astarion was on him, too.

“Get him!” Karlach shouted, easily tangling the wizard up in her arms. Astarion smirked and knelt beside them. He waited until she pulled his arms over his head to poke into his sides. Gale flinched and tried to lean away from the poke, but he only leaned further into Karlach’s arms.

“Nohoho no no! AhAHah! Wahahait!” Gale yelped and squirmed as Astarion continued to prod into his sides, his frantic giggles already threatening to jump to laughter. “Two against one is nohohot fahahir!”

“Who said anything about fair?” Karlach grinned and clawed her way down his forearm until she could burrow into his exposed armpits. Gale bucked and giggled harder, trying and failing to bring his arms back down. “Nope, you’re not getting out of this one, Gale.”

Astarion climbed on top of Gale’s kicking legs, fingertips fluttering into his sides with more purpose. The wizard twisted from one side to the other, but his fingers stayed on him. “You really thought I’d help you? And end up on the receiving end of Karlach’s fury?” Astarion snickered. “No, my dear. Unlike you, I know how to pick battles that I can win, haha.”

“Y-Youhuhu opportunhistic leehehehehech!” Gale squealed and curled in on himself when Karlach circled her thumbs along the outer curve of his armpits. The barbarian smirked, following the curve of his back and ending with swipes of her claws at the back of his ribs. Gale yelled and jerked forward, only to press his back into her chest when she kept scribbling.

“Where ya goin’~?” She giggled. She let go of his arms for the moment so that she could use both hands to attack his rib cage. Gale immediately brought his arms to his sides and batted at her wrists.

“Awahahahay frohohohom youhuhuhu!” He yelped and squeezed at her wrists when she tickled faster. “KAhahahaha! Lehehehet mehehehe gohohoho!”

In truth, Gale enjoyed tickling every now and again. It’s not something he’d go around talking about, but he definitely appreciated a good laugh. But Karlach and Astarion together were probably the most mischievous ticklers on the Sword Coast. If anything, they fed off of each other’s skills. Astarion had the dexterous fingers and teasing taunts, and Karlach had the strength and boundless energy. Together, they left Gale a laughing mess.

“Why? We’ve only just started,” Astarion teased, gently pinching the sides of his stomach. Gale jolted and belted out a laugh. Astarion did it again, earning another frantic laugh, and he grinned knowingly. Gale’s arms flailed as he tried to grab the spawn’s hands.

“NOHOHO AHASTAHARION!” Gale wrestled with his hands, now full-on laughing. Astarion clicked his teeth as he tried to keep tickling his tummy. He gave Karlach an expectant look.

“Ahem, little help here?” He asked, having to halt his tickle attack in favor of trying to move Gale’s hands. Karlach stopped tickling his ribs and reached over both men’s arms.

“Right, I’ve got ‘im.” She looped her larger arms around Gale and drew him back into her chest. Gale continued to squirm until his arms were trapped under hers.

“Thank you,” Astarion chuckled. He smirked at the wizard in front of him and made a big show of flexing his fingers. “Now, where were we?”

He put one hand on Gale’s tummy and Gale flinched again, nervously giggling.

“Nohohot thehehre…” Gale jumped again and squealed when the spawn flexed his fingers. “AHAhastariohohon! Anywhehehre buhuhut thehehehre!”

“My, so sensitive..” Astarion continued to gently flex his fingers against Gale’s tummy, chuckling more at his squeals and cackles. “I’m hardly touching you. Our resident wizard is just a magical bundle of nerves, isn’t he?”

“Sure is,” Karlach grinned. “But hey, who said you’re gettin’ all of the fun?” She readjusted her hold on Gale, now using one arm to keep him against her chest. She joined Astarion in squeezing and poking into Gale’s tummy, and his loud laughter echoed throughout the tavern.

Astarion wrapped his legs around Gale’s to not get thrown off but, even then, he almost went flying. Karlach laughed along with Gale as she alternated between the side of his stomach and just above his hip.

“Gods, I love your laugh,” she giggled. “It’s so fuckin’ cute.” Despite her strength, even Karlach had to make sure she didn’t let go of him. Gale bucked and cackled in her hold.

“NAHAHAHAHA! DOHOHON’T TIH-AHAHA! AHAHA!” Gale struggled to get a full sentence out; he could only laugh himself silly as he leaned into Karlach’s shoulder.

Eventually, the duo eased off of him. Karlach let go of his arms, and Astarion slowed his tickles down to gentle pokes and stroking. Gale inadvertently slid down Karlach’s lap, finally able to bat at Astarion’s hands.

“Plehehease, truhuhuce…” He gasped, sighing with relief once Astarion finally stopped. The spawn snickered.

“Alright, alright, I’ve had my fun. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of our mutual friend.” Astarion patted Gale’s stomach and climbed off of his legs. Once he was gone, Karlach pulled the wizard up into a seated position, holding him close.

“No hard feelings, right Gale?” She asked, rubbing her warm hands over his torso. Gale exhaled and shook his head.

“Not at all. I believe we settled our score,” He replied, leaning further into her warmth. “Astarion, on the other hand…”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tickle #bg3 tickling #baldur's gate 3 tickle #gale dekarios #astarion #astarion ancunin #karlach #karlach cliffgate #lee!galedekarios #lee!gale #ler!karlach #ler!astarion #ticklish!galedekarios #ticklish!karlach #lee!karlach

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

how people can change

steve harrington x gn!byers!reader

word count: 4,427

warnings: swearing, like one use of y/n, mentions of season one steve's bullshit, mentions of death, enemies to friends to more type beat

a/n: my very first *full* steve fic. look at us. who woulda thought? not me. i've been working on this since february. don't look at me, i know. i know. but i think i've gotten some sort of hold on how i'd like to write steve. some of the dialogue (season 2) isn’t mine. (also the title is a lyric from strange by celeste!) let me know what you think, okay? i love you. steve loves you. don't tell me if it's bad.

————

November 1984

The door slams behind you with a deafening thud, and you take the extra five seconds to lock it. You know, that action no one else in your family seems to be capable of performing.

The house is quiet, and you step over the map of Hawkins sprawling over the hardwoods, careful not to damage Will’s work.

Your keys clang against the table, knocking into your mother’s ashtray. It’s dead quiet again, and you freeze at a subtle interruption in the silence. There’s a muffled sound coming from somewhere else in your home, and frankly you’ve had enough of everything the last couple of days. Which is why Joyce sent you home to get some sleep, to clear your head.

There’s no denying that you have a soft spot for Will. He’s always been your buddy. And you love Jonathan, you do, and he’s got this sick ability to know what you’re thinking or feeling before you do, but he doesn’t need your protection like Will does.

Will is your best friend. And he’s got one hell of a support system with you, Jonathan and your mom behind him. He deserves the world. You’ve always thought that.

You quickly infer that it’s a walkie making the sound, based on the staticky crackle, the slightly muffled voice of whoever’s trying to get through from the other side.

Yours is off—you know it is—so it has to be Will’s. Jonathan was too good for a walkie-talkie.

You step down the hallway, pushing your younger brother’s bedroom door the rest of the way open. You scan the small area for it, listening.

“Code red! This is a code red! I repeat, this is a good red! Shit, is anyone there?”

You snatch up the device, extending the antenna.

“Dustin? Is that you?”

“Jesus christ! Where have you been?” Dustin exclaims, and you swear you can hear someone else interfering with his words.

“Sorry! I wasn’t home. What’s wrong?” You sit on the edge of Will’s bed. It’s so much comfier than yours.

“It’s Dart! He’s, he’s just…you know what? It’s a long story. Where are you right now?”

This time you definitely hear another voice, and maybe even music.

“Dart? You kept him, right? I fucking knew it, Henderson! You’re so not a good liar.”

“That’s for sure.” You can’t place the voice, not over the walkie and over Dustin’s rambling, but you do catch that and it’s enough to leave you curious.

The boy starts to argue back, but you cut him off. “Dustin, who are you with?”

“Uh,” he coughs, “Well you see, um…Steve Harrington. I’m with Steve Harrington.”

Dustin gets a severe eye roll from said partner-in-crime, but he brushes it off.

“What?” You’re so confused. How did that even happen?

“I know! But everyone’s been MIA!”

“Oh my god,” you say, and Dustin can practically see you face-palming.

“Look,” he shoves a handful of rogue curls back under the brim of his hat. “Can you just meet up with us? The old junkyard?”

You push off of Will’s bed, and start walking through the house again, retrieving your things. So much for a nap or eating anything other than hospital Jell-O. What are you gonna say? Fuck no?

“Yeah, yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank god,” Dustin breathes. “See you then. Over.”

You make sure to check the batteries in Will’s walkie before you go, and then you’re back in your car again, backing out just as aggressively as your mother (something you said you’d never do).

————

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. You tell anyone I just told you that, and your ass is grass you’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

Dustin goes quiet for a minute, watching each step he takes. The train tracks are old, and there are one too many loose nails for his liking. “So what’s Y/N got against you, man?”

Steve adjusts one of the gloves he’s wearing, trying not to think about the fact that he’s gonna smell like raw meat for who knows how long. “Uh, I don’t know, exactly. Never really talked to them before. But I’d assume it’s the–”

“The assholery?” Dustin interrupts.

“Dude.”

“What? It’s true.”

“No, yeah, you’re right.”

Dustin catches the slip in Steve’s attitude almost immediately. “Hey, they’re good, okay? I don’t think you’re a total dick, if that means anything. You’re trying and that’s what matters, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, we will. Thanks, Henderson.”

Dustin gives Steve a winning smile. This kid could rule the world, he thinks.

“Anytime,” Harrington. He lifts his hand up, awaiting a fist bump that Steve returns without a second thought.

————

You wander down the trail of raw meat you’ve found, not bothering to even question what's happening or where the meat came from. Frankly, you don’t really want to know.

At the end of your path, you catch a glimpse of familiar curls, even if they are crushed under the red brim of a hat.

“Dustin?”

The boy practically gives himself whiplash turning around to face you.

“Holy shit, I’m so glad you’re here. It’ll be nice to have someone older than me who’s not a total pain in the ass.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

The voice pulls your attention away from Dustin. When you look up, Steve Harrington is walking out of the biggest vehicle in this abandoned lot: a school bus. He’s wiping his hands on his jeans and pushing the ends of his sleeves up.

Dustin looks at you. “You guys have to be acquaintances at the least, right?”

You nod at him, feeling your face burn. If there’s a word for a less-than-acquaintance, you don’t know it. But that’s probably where your relationship with this boy lies. King Steve isn’t really someone you just miss.

But yeah, you know him. You know he’s a dick.

“Hi.” Steve pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and crosses his arms.

“Hi.”

You only look at him for a moment before your eyes are back on Dustin. The younger boy notices the tension radiating from you, and honestly, he gets it. Steve Harrington wasn’t exactly the person he’d planned on spending his day with, but here he was. Desperate times call for desperate measures or whatever.

“So what are we doing?” You ask.

Dustin puts his thumbs underneath the straps of his backpack, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. “It’s a long story. Best if we talk while we work.”

You roll your eyes at him, but follow the thirteen-year-old wherever he wants to go. You’re not sure you could deny Dustin Henderson anything.

————

You watch as Max, a young girl you’ve just met, stomps up the steps of the ladder you’ve rigged inside the mess of a bus that you’re camped out in.

Your chest aches because what Dustin just said to her was rude, it was rude, and you can’t believe the two of them. You sit, arms crossed and leg shaking up and down, glaring at Steve.

You find it hard to believe that after everything you’ve learned tonight, about Dart, about Mews—which you’re never going to get over because you only visit Dustin’s house for his cat, never him—that this is what they’re doing now.

“That’s good,” Steve says. “Just show her you don’t care.”

Dustin is pacing, hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t,” he breathes.

Steve winks. Watching the two of them is like watching a tennis match. You don’t even like tennis.

“Why are you winking, Steve?”

You drag your hand down your face, sick of hearing this stupid ass conversation. When Dustin sits, the constant clink of metal where Steve keeps flicking his lighter open over and over starts to give you a headache.

“Fuck, Steve, would you quit it already?”

He scoffs, snapping the lid to his Zippo closed harder than he had been before. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re pissing me off, that’s my problem.”

Steve’s brow furrows. He doesn’t really understand the sudden need for aggression.

“Is this really the time for you to be yelling at me?”

“Is this really the time for you to be a dick?”

Dustin jerks the antenna on his walkie down, clearly sick of the two of you. “Would you children stop bickering? This is a life or death situation we have going on here.”

“I’d prefer death,” you proclaim.

Dustin glares at you. “I can arrange that if you’d really rather die, than act civil for one evening.”

“I think all of the civility,” you gesture vaguely with your hands, “went out the window when you asked me to come help fight demo-dogs.”

Steve snorts at your words, and you glare at him, an “oh, is that funny?” look on your face.

Dustin rearranges the hat on his head, stuffing his curls underneath it once again. “Alright. I’m gonna go check on our status, you two…work shit out, okay?”

“Dude,” Steve starts, “I’m older than you. I don’t have to listen to your instructions.” He gestures vaguely with his hands.

Dustin flips him off, and that’s the only response Steve receives, leaving the two of you alone in the bus.

You remain quiet, hoping that if you do you might just disappear or dissolve into the cracked leather of the seat you're sitting on. Then there really wouldn’t be any form of confrontation.

Steve starts flipping the lid to his Zippo open and shut repeatedly again, but this time it doesn’t annoy you. In fact, it gives you something to focus on, and you know that if you had one you’d be doing the same exact thing.

You wonder if he’s nervous. Or just bored.

Your knee begins to bounce when you realize that he’s looking at you, that he’s stopped messing with the lighter. But you refuse to look back, staring instead at the way the moonlight glints off of the metal in between his fingers.

“So what’s your problem with me?”

The way Steve says those words is so unlike the way he’s spoken the rest of the day, the way he’s behaved with Dustin, that you feel a pang in your chest.

He sounds like he used to.

“Did you even hear that? How conceded you just sounded? Like it’s funny that I might have a problem with you, king Steve?”

Obviously the use of his nickname hits a nerve. He shoves the lighter back into his pocket and sits up, tucking his hands under his knees.

“Would you just cut the shit and tell me what your problem is then?”

You sit up, matching his stance. There’s a part of you that wants to piss him off. You ache for it.

“You’re a dick, that’s my problem.”

Steve scoffs.

“That’s it? Like I don’t already know that?”

You roll your eyes, oblivious to the fact that all three of the younger kids you’re with have their heads hung over the escape latch in the top of the bus, listening eagerly.

“You think I’m just gonna put up with you, Harrington? I’m sorry, did you forget the slut shaming you and your shitty friends did publicly last fall? Because I sure as hell didn’t. I didn’t forget that you walk around like you fucking own the entirety of Hawkins because you’re swimming in daddy’s money. I didn’t forget that your girlfriend took my best friend away from me.”

You stop, and Steve just looks at you. You realize how heavy you’re breathing and subconsciously watch the steady movement of his chest, trying to match the pace and calm down. You hadn’t meant to get worked up like that. But sometimes…sometimes shit just happens.

Steve sighs. Honestly he feels a little sick. And he could argue with you some more, say that you don’t know what you’re talking about, that that’s the past, that he’s getting better. But that feels shallow. It feels meaningless. Because he knows it’s true. That in worrying about only himself or getting the girl or impressing whoever, he hurt loads more people than he realized.

It’s such bullshit, he thinks. This life he’s been living.

“You know, I’ve gotten plenty of earfuls about my actions from Dustin, I promise you that much. He can be very mean.”

You snort, considering there’s absolutely no denying that. “He’s a smart kid.”

Steve nods. He’s trying to think of a way to respond. He’s not good with words.

“Look, I-I know I’m a dick, okay?” he starts. You decide to be brave and look at him. He seems to like that. The eye contact. It’s like it lets him know you’re paying attention. He doesn’t get a lot of that, not away from school.

“The thing with Nancy,” he gestures with his hands, looking away from you and at the wall of the bus, like it hurts him to talk about or something. “I don’t know. My solution to not getting what I wanted was apparently to take it out on her. Tommy H. proposed the idea, and I didn’t stop it.”

“You know I cleaned it off, right?” he continues.

You uncross your arms and sit up, criss crossing your legs instead. “No. I didn’t know that.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I broadcasted the information across Hawkins. Tommy and Carol don’t even know.”

Oh. The fact that they didn’t know tells you that he did it without needed recognition. He did it because he wanted to.

“I just—she saw it. And then there was the whole thing…”

You start to grin before you catch yourself, but he sees it.

“It’s okay, you can laugh. I got the shit beat out of me.”

“You deserved it.”

He can’t argue with that. He won’t argue with it. “You’re right. I did. I said and did a lot that day that I regret.”

You nod, and then you’re both just looking at one another. It’s quiet out here, the same quiet you get at home, where you can hear the crickets, where you know there will be lightning bugs in the warmer months, free to roam uninterrupted by human activity.

Steve pushes his hair from his forehead, and though he sees you track the movement of his hand, he doesn’t point it out.

“What did you mean about your friend?”

If you’re being honest with yourself, you hadn’t intended for that to come out, but being in such close proximity to Steve in this moment had just made everything spill out.

You try to wave him off. “That was a whole thing. I didn’t mean to spill my guts like that.”

“No, it’s okay, I want to know. If you want to tell me, that is.”

You nod, chewing at your thumb nail now. Steve has the urge to reach forward and pull it free so you won’t hurt yourself, but he doesn’t. Instead he stays still and quiet, watching you contemplate a while.

Eventually he decides to keep going.

“I’m trying, you know,” he tells you. You look up and it gives him that little push to continue speaking. “To be better. I know you think I’m a total dick, and you’re not wrong, I know that, but I really am trying to be better. To be a good influence on those little shits.” He quirks his head upwards where he knows all three of his charges are eavesdropping, without a doubt.

You take a second and look at him. Really look at him. He seems to carry himself differently, though it’s not something you’d notice if you weren’t looking. He’s not dressed like his mommy picked out his outfit. He looks messy. The mess draws you in.

“I believe you. And I-I know I shouldn’t stereotype you, but it’s just—”

“I am a walking stereotype,” Steve grins. So do you.

“Yeah. I guess so. But I believe that you’re working on it. I suppose some people don’t remain assholes forever.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, though a little distracted. You still haven’t told you what you meant, but that’s not what’s really bugging him.

There’s this pull inside him. This longing for a friend. A real friend. Not someone he knows just because their dads were up each other's asses, or someone he just sits with at lunch because they’re of the same status quo.

And he just feels so alone right now. What with Nancy, this girl he thought he was in love with and everything, but clearly she doesn’t feel the same. What’s he even supposed to do with that? Did he ever actually know anything about her?

It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that he’s sitting here with you, hanging out with thirteen-year-olds and hiding from creatures Steve’s brain can’t even begin to decipher.

“Barb,” you say. Steve panicked a little internally at the mention of her name, considering. But he keeps his eyes on you, focused on each word that leaves your mouth. “She was my best friend, in middle school that is.”

He nods. Oh. Oh.

“We were still close when we got to high school, had a little group and everything, right? And even though high school kinda fucks everything up, I didn’t want to believe that would happen to our little partnership, you know?”

He nods again, trying his best to pay attention. He’s trying harder than he ever has in school. He probably shouldn’t ever say that out loud.

“Anyways, she was my best friend. She was all I knew, and then we got to lovely Hawkins High, and she met Nancy. Nancy and I never really clicked, even when we tried. I guess it’s because I’ve always thought she was a pretentious bitch—sorry, Steve—but I don’t know. We just fell apart after that.”

“So Barb had Nancy and I had…no one. And the way my brain saw it was Nancy took my best friend from me, and then Nancy started seeing you, and so I saw those two from across the cafeteria, lounging with the popular kids. With you. And then she died.”

Steve is looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. Like he’s in awe of you. And it’s not anything negative. It’s warm. Understanding. Like something you’ve said has straightened something out in his brain, sorted something he couldn’t figure out on his own.

“S-so it was like we took her from you, in a way?” he asks.

“Yeah. And you didn’t. God, you didn’t. But it just felt like this…” you trail off, searching for the right words.

“Domino effect?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Exactly. And it’s not your fault, not at all. But I guess I already saw you as some dickish rich kid and that gave me another reason to stay the fuck away from you. And now that I’m saying it out loud I realize how awful it sounds because people change, you know?”

“No, I get it. I’ve been an asshole, and I’m sure I still am—Dustin can attest to that—but there are rich assholes that don’t change or probably won’t ever change. I know a few of them.”

You go quiet again. Steve doesn’t want you to stop talking. He’s starting to think he likes the sound of your voice.

“It’s good that you’re changing, Steve. I’m sorry I said you were such a dick.”

A breathy laugh leaves his throat. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m sorry for…everything.”

“Maybe we can make a truce or something. Start over. It’s not like we really know each other that well anyhow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s cool. Whatever you want.” He means that. He thinks he’d do whatever you wanted him to.

“Okay. Maybe we can just try and figure it out.”

“I’d like that,” Steve says. He stops himself from proclaiming that he wants to try and fix this with you. Because you’re listening to him. You’re not mad. He doesn’t want you to disappear on him after this.

You give him a small smile and he swears he might cry. Not that that feeling lasts.

“Hey!” Dustin is leaning down into the bus, hands clasped together. “I’m so glad we’ve got this handled, but we’ve got a code red, so let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

————

June 1985

The door to the back room swings open, a frazzled boy rushing in. You drop your candy wrapper on the table, and Robin keeps talking about the girl that you missed coming in this morning. She was “such a babe.”

“Hello?” Steve stands in front of the both of you, hands on his hips. You have to fight back a laugh.

Your eyes find Steve’s immediately, and you swear they soften, but maybe you’re imagining it. You nudge Robin’s leg where your foot is propped up on one of the supports under her chair.

She stops flailing and looks up, seeing Steve’s hand raised where he’d been about to snap to get her attention. She quirks a brow. “Don’t you snap at me, Harrington! This is important shit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Could you two come and help me? I’m dying out here!”

It’s one of the hottest days of the year, and Scoops has had a line since it opened at ten.

You look at your watch. “My shift doesn’t start for…fifteen minutes.” He rolls his eyes at you, though the gesture is void of any malice it could possibly hold.

“Yeah, well this is supposed to be my break, so get out there, Buckley!”

She stands, though she’s pouting. “Come on.”

“You took the job,” he says, shoving her through the door. Robin gives him a look that you can’t see, but you can practically feel it from across the small room.

Steve lets out an exaggerated sigh, ripping off the hat he’s been wearing and throwing it on the table in front of you.

You watch him rummage through a bag before he emerges from its depths with a banana and throws himself down in the chair across from you, lifting your leg up from where you’d moved it to occupy the seat Robin had abandoned. His hand is warm on the bare skin of your calf, and he shifts the chair some, laying your leg across both of his.

“Steve.”

“Huh?” He peels the banana, aggressively fast actually, and rips off a chunk, popping it into his mouth.

“Why do you have a banana?”

He meets your eyes. “Snack, duh.” He chews, and then gestures at the closed window. “Been working up a sweat out there I think I deserve a break.”

You grin at him, and he feels like he might hit the floor.

“Want some?” Steve pulls off a chunk and holds it out to you.

“Did you wash your hands?”

He gasps, mid-chew, and forces himself to swallow. “D-did I—yes, I washed my hands, mom, I’m not four.”

“Eh,” Robin’s voice breaks your little bubble. She’s pulled the window open–that way she can eavesdrop– propping herself up on her elbows.

That makes you laugh, and when you smile your cheek is full of banana and Steve swears something is breaking inside of him.

“Gang up on me then why don’t you,” he says, handing you the last piece he’s got left. He tosses the peel in the trash, “what do you want anyhow, Robin?”

“Your break is up, and her shift has started. Let’s get to slinging ice cream, shitheads!”

You wipe your hands on your shorts and hop up. Steve doesn’t move, just looks at you.

“C’mon, Steven. It’ll be lunch sooner than later.”

He grins. His eyes look tired and you wonder if he slept any last night. He told you once recently that he doesn’t always sleep well, that sometimes he has to listen to tapes in order to keep his head from being so busy, to keep the thoughts from being so loud.

Steve has told you a lot since last fall. There’s a significant bit more that you know that’s more than what he’s given Robin, but you know he’ll let her in. He just needs the time.

Though sometimes you think he might be giving you everything. The parts of himself he’s never shown anyone else. Because you’ve been such a good listener, and Steve’s never really had that before.

He wishes he had the balls to tell you more. But he can’t fuck it up this time. Not with you. You’re too good.

Steve is your best friend now. You know that. He knows it.

If yourself from a year ago could see you now, she’d probably knock your fucking teeth in. But he’s just so much more than you thought. You’re not sure you’ll ever forgive yourself for not thinking there could be more in him, though he’s told you not to be upset. You’ve told him the same when he berates himself for not having paid you more attention in school.

It’s the past. You can’t live there. And today, you’re scooping ice cream for pre-sticky kids, for shitty pay, but it doesn’t matter because you have him. You have Robin.

You stick out your hand, and Steve takes it without a second thought. His palm engulfs yours, skin warm and a little calloused.

“We can watch whatever you want tonight.”

He squeezes your hand. You and Robin are supposed to have a sleepover with him tonight. He suggested he sleep in a guest room and you two have his bed, but Robin said she needs to be cuddled. You said you’re not letting him sleep anywhere but his bed.

“I thought you wanted to watch Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

“I always wanna watch that. But you can pick first, Stevie.”

Stevie. His stomach flips at that. You don’t let it out often, but when you do it’s like Steve might just die right there.

He straightens, deal clearly made, and you pull him up–not that you need to.

You push through the door with him, and immediately regret it. It’s like the soccer moms can smell your fear, and you know it.

“Breathe,” Steve says. “Dustin’s here.”

He is. The entire party. That you can deal with.

You think you could deal with an absurd line and angry mothers for the rest of your life if it meant assembling Dustin and Lucas’ weird orders. Even if you have to endure Will’s questioning looks and his pleas that you bring some ice cream home. If you have to listen to Robin’s word vomit.

If it meant spending time with Steve, you’d do it.

God, how shit changes.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #dustin henderson #steve harrington x byers!reader #byers!reader #robin buckley #savannah’s fics

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moxfirefly · 2 years

Note

We really don't see enough of protective Donnie and I would love to see him just snap a little if someone was bothering his S/O.

❝ i don’t like how they keep staring at me. ❞

❝ what did you just say to them, you little shit? ❞

❝ see, i woulda left it alone. but you made them fucking cry. so now you’re gonna lose your eyes. ❞

[ SHELTER ] for one muse to lean into the other’s side or hug them to seek comfort from a crowd or individual while in public.

[ RESCUE ] for one muse to intervene upon seeing a third party making the other one uncomfortable.

Man it was hard trying to stay within the limit but I hope I gave you good prompts to work with! Can't wait to see what you come up with 🐢💜

*vibrates excitedly* unhinge Don? Oh friend YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

Somebody said Vern is the perfect scapegoat but why not have a little fun and have it be Casey this time 😏

Rated Mature cause Don’s gonna smack a bitch if he’s pushed.

You and Casey had never seen eye to eye, mostly because he came off as an arrogant prick.

And on good days he was just arrogant.

But tonight?

Well.

It was no secret that you had a couple of thoughts on New York’s finest, aka the cops.

One too many times had you seen their ‘shoot first ask questions later’ mindset in action. You’d seen excessive force, you’d seen the racism and mysogony. You felt and knew deep inside that if the day game where the guys were expendable that they be thrown under the metaphorical bus.

It never sat right with you.

So Casey had made a comment about work tonight and you hadn’t kicked on your filter and had retorted back with a snide comment about crooked cops and their ways. It had quite easily crawled its way up beneath Casey’s skin, he’d made a face and he had proceeded to give you the stink eye for the rest of the night.

Once dinner was put away and everyone went about the night time routine, Casey had continued to eye you with a scalding glare. You could tell he was itching to say something, it was frothing above the surface.

Donatello was on dishes duty and had caught the tail end of your comment towards Mikey.

“-I don’t like how he keeps staring at me” You placed the last of the left overs in containers and passed them off to Mikey.

Donnie had casted a look over his shoulder at Casey, who seem to be venting to Raphael about tonight’s little debate.

You found your way next to Donnie, resting your head against his bicep. He could tell you were bothered, while it was a sore subject it didn’t necessarily give Casey the right to cast daggers at you all evening.

“Are you alright?” He asked, careful to not drip too much concern in his tone. He felt your shrug, a sigh blown against his pebbled flesh. “Maybe I was too mean? I should apologize” You spoke softly, there was remorse in your tone. While you were right you also knew Casey was an alley, a friend.

Just as you made your mind up to at least let Casey know you knew he was on the guys side, everything went down the shitter.

Donnie saw you walk over and before you could extend a let ‘bygones be bygones’ apology, Casey had simply snapped at you. It was harsh, it was simply fucking mean. You stood stock still, shocked and taken aback.

Donnie shut off the sink, the clatter of a plate hitting the metal of the sink the one sound in the room. The rest watched in shock at what had just happened.

Donnie’s heavy footfalls alerted you he was there. He got between you and Casey, one look at your watering eyes as you stared at his boots was all he needed. He felt something boil inside of him, the very notion that somebody could make you cry, it was enough for that little part buried inside of him. That little part of him capable of unfathomable violence.

“What did you say to them, you little shit?” Don’s voice made you look up shocked at what he had said. You’d never heard him speak like that, and clearly Casey was just as surprised.

“Come on Don she’s been riding my ass about being some crooked cop! I know-“

“I never said you were crooked, Casey I was-”

“You might as fucking well did!”

His tone made you flinch and the embarrassed frustrated tears threatened to spill. It felt like a spotlight had been shone down upon you. Brought you back to those moments a parental figure would judge you and berate you.

A large hand wrapped around the scruff of Casey’s shirt. Casey eyes found themselves met with a pair of ones much, much angrier than his own. “See I woulda left it alone…” Donnie pushed Casey against the dinning table just as Raph’s desperate ‘Donnie no no no no’ came tumbling out of him. “But you made her fucking cry, so now you’re gonna lose your eyes”Casey honest to goodness yelped and nearly prayed when Raph got between them. “Case, the gym. Now. Don, walk it off, go” Raph’s hand patted Donnie’s plastron.

Casey had forgotten briefly just how tall Donnie was, just how menacing he could appear at his full height with a hand wrapped around one designed with the strength to cause a lot of damage. Donnie’s eyes didn’t acknowledge Raph’s presence, he let them stay on Casey. The silent threat was enough, and with a not so gentle shove he released Casey from his grip. A few items on the table cluttered down along with Casey’s balance and dignity.

Casey’s trembling eyes found yours.

You looked away.

Raph led him away to the home gym. Space and a cool down was the remedy for now.

You looked at Donnie’s back, there was a tremble to his hands and tension to his arms. You took a tentative step, hands grabbing his forearm before you leaned against his arm much like you’d done by the sink. It was enough to quiet his thoughts, his shaking hands to still. He looked down at his side, at the top of your head and sighed.

His arm wrapped itself around you, securely.

This was a side he never wanted you to see.

#jealousy prompts #quiet-trash-witch #ask #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #donatello x reader #donnie x reader

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gingerjolover · 7 months

Text

bruno baby - naomi mcpherson (muna) x soft!gf/fem!reader

Warnings: RPF, fluffy fluff, smutty talk? but not smut you hornballs, no fundamental physical descriptors except hair that fingers can run through?

g's notes: wow...gingy posting late... who woulda thot.... anyways this is like 4 requests combined (when soft!gf and naomi adopt their pup, fluffy naomi vday, fluffy valentines morning w naomi, and naomi fluff) okay love u all! smut tomorrow! WHO SAID THAT?

also still have to fix all my tags and put my stuff on ao3 but i have some time now bc work hasn't started, once again thank you all for being patient wish i could give all of u a fat kiss on the mouth (consensually)

The sun beams through the sheer curtains, a gentle welcomed breeze entering the room through a cracked window. Naomi wakes up, squinting their eyes, almost confused by their surroundings. You both had only been in the apartment for a few weeks, having finally got settled in between the last tour and the new album recording. They turn over softly, trying not to shake you awake smiling at you laying beside them. The expanse of your bare back calls to Naomi, their lips pressing into the middle between your shoulder blades before putting one hand behind their head, the other absentmindedly stroking your skin in slow, careless patterns.

“Hm?” you hum softly, feeling Naomi’s fingers up and down your back.

“Good morning, sunshine,” they whisper, unable to keep the smile off their face when they wake up next to you. They keep stroking your skin, running their hand from your shoulder down your back, movements soft and gentle, trying to let you wake up gradually. After a while they pause, just resting their hand in the middle of your back, basking in your presence.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you mumble gently, turning over in their arms, your hands gently running over their torso, thumb brushing their scar softly.

Naomi blushes slightly at the touch of your hands over the scar and they sigh happily, leaning over to kiss you softly on the lips. Their gaze is adoring, loving the softness of your skin, the lightness of touch.

“Happy Valentine’s baby,” they respond, voice gentle.

“What time is it?” you squint, leaning over and pushing your face into their neck, kissing it gingerly.

Naomi laughs softly, smiling against your body as they check the time. “10:43,” they reply in a quiet tone, before kissing the top of your head. They nuzzle against you and they sigh contentedly. “I was meant to wake up with a different plan,” they murmur against your skin, speaking so softly you have to press your ear to their mouth to hear. The words are sweet, voice light - even if you can’t hear them clearly, the tone alone tells you enough.

“Oh yeah, what was that?” you ask cheekily, kissing below their ear, hand hovering over your eyes as it’s bright in your room.

“Mmmm…it was a little bit spicier,” they murmur, their voice a little bit huskier than before, a small chuckle accompanying their words. “But maybe for later.” Naomi kisses your temple gently as they continue to hold you, running fingers through your hair and playing with the strands. “Sleep well?”

“You’re such a tease,” you groan, wrapping your arms around their torso, resting your head on their shoulder. “I slept good,” you smile against their skin, kissing their shoulder before you yawn.

“I’m a tease?” they ask playfully, laughing softly as they give you a tiny kiss on your forehead. The words carry a small chuckle and they continue smiling, resting their cheek against you.

“Did you dream of anything?” Naomi asks.

“Mhm,” you shake your head softly “Not that I can remember,” you pout, cheek squished against their shoulder.

“Not even a little bit? Naomi looks at you, their features shifting into a playful, teasing mode. “Not anything at all?” they ask, leaning over and kissing your forehead again. They try to be serious but the amusement is clear in their voice and their expression.

“What are you on about?” you groan. Naomi’s hands move back to your skin, rubbing the expanse of your back, calloused fingers against your smooth skin.

“Mmmm I dunno…just thought you maybe dreamt about me.” Naomi grins, kissing your earlobe softly, their voice still with a hint of humor. Their hands move slowly, touch lingering at all the right places.

“Thought that maybe you missed me, even while in dreamland,” they whisper, voice hushed but clear, a small giggle accompanying their words.

“Do you miss me even while in dreamland?” you ask, leaning up to them, one hand in the middle of their bare chest, nose resting against theirs.

Naomi sighs contentedly when you lean towards them and leans their own head forward. The two of you are face to face now, their fingers pausing to run through your hair. “You know I do.” they reply. “I always do.” Naomi’s voice is soft, gentle, and tender. Their gaze is soft and loving. Their words are a declaration of sorts, one that can only be made after you both decided to move in together, taking your relationship to the next level.

“Hmm… you’re so cheesy,” you giggle, rubbing your nose with Naomi’s.

“Yeah?” Naomi asks excitedly, the expression is playful, teasing, but there’s also a hint of eagerness to their voice. They move their mouth to yours, leaning in to kiss you softly. Their hands move back to your hair, caressing you tenderly.

“I’m cheesy?” they ask teasingly, their voice a little bit breathy after you've released their lips, your kisses having left Naomi breathless. “And I’m the tease?”

You giggle, connecting your lips again. Your hand moves to the back of Naomi’s neck, trying to deepen the kiss, but Naomi stops you, humming and then laughing softly as they pull away, breaking contact with a small smile, clearly amused by your enthusiasm.

“Mmm…someone’s eager aren’t they?” Naomi whispers, before kissing your cheek softly.

“You said you meant to wake me up with something,” you pout. “Are you not in the mood?” you ask, pulling your head back slightly, looking into Naomi's eyes to make sure you're not overstepping.

“Mmm,” Naomi’s voice is soft and gentle, they kiss your forehead again. They pause for a moment as their eyes move downwards for a split second, looking at your lips, then back to your eyes.

“Oh, I’m in the mood,” they reply breathily, voice low and husky, their tone tinged with a playful, teasing note.

“But…?” you ask, knowing there’s a "but" coming.

“But…” Naomi shrugs their shoulders slightly, but they lean down and kiss you, their hand caressing your chin softly, pulling you in. They move their tongue inside to meet yours, the movement slow and deep as if to memorize the way you taste. Naomi's movements are slow and lazy, but calculated, eyes half lidded when they pull away.

“We have plans,” Naomi says, smirking, loving that they can leave you breathless this time.

“You’re such a dick you know that?” you whine.

“Mmm I knowww,” Naomi giggles, sounding incredibly pleased with themselves. They shift to kiss the corner of your mouth, lips pressing small tender kisses to your face.

“Wanna guess what we’re going to do?” Naomi asks in a mischievous tone.

“Wait do you actually have a plan?” you ask face dropping slightly, you both had agreed on a "no gifts" and "chill" valentines day since you both were moving into this new apartment.

“Naomi don’t play around— we agreed,” you say, half-stern.

“Mmm…” Naomi grins slightly, their lips curving up into a tiny smirk as they see how you react. The playful tone remains as they look at you with a teasing expression but their tone softens slightly. Their hands moving down your back, rubbing over you ass softly, resting their hand.

“Baby.” Naomi whispers, voice full of affection. “It’s fine, I promise. I’ve been planning it for a while, I know what we agreed to…but this isn’t a gift.”

“It’s not a gift? Then what is it? An activity?” you ask confused, head cocked to the side slightly.

“Mhm…sure...it's an activity,” Naomi grins, leaning in and giving you a quick kiss before they speak again. “But it’s been planned out beforehand, so…don’t worry, okay?”

Naomi’s tone is reassuring. All the signs point to a fun, enjoyable activity for you both as their hands continue to caress your body, thumbs gently running over your backside in broad circles.

“Just trust me,” they whisper.

“This is— I’m so confused,” you groan softly, Naomi’s hands settling on your ribcage as they laugh lightly.

“Just let go and let yourself enjoy the surprise. I promise everything’s okay.” Naomi whispers, their voice soft, tender, and comforting.

You get the sense from Naomi that it’s a good idea to go with the flow this time, and just let them guide you. It’s been planned before and clearly, Naomi has been looking forward to this. Your body is in safe hands with them. Your heart is beating fast though, with a mix of anticipation and confusion.

You nod gently, leaning back in to kiss Naomi’s cheeks.

“When are we going?” you ask softly. Naomi turns to the clock on their bedside table. “Soon,” Naomi says with a hint of mischief. Their playful tone rings true and they lean in to kiss your forehead. “Just relax, breathe.” Naomi whispers, their hands massaging your waist gently. They kiss your neck softly, you can feel their smirk as their features are obscured from you.

“What do I wear?” you asks softly, moaning gently at Naomi’s sweet kisses to your neck.

Naomi purrs softly and they break contact temporarily. They move their hands lower and press against the small of your back. “Whatever you feel comfortable in, baby. The activity doesn’t really require anything specific. Oh…but it’d be good if it’s something easy to move around in. You don’t want anything too dressy.” Naomi’s tone is still playful but their words are genuine.

“What are you up to?” you ask suspiciously, sitting up in bed, hair messy, eyes puffy as you wipe your face with tiredness.

“Nothing.. just go get ready.” Naomi grins, voice still playful but the tone is still reassuring. They lean back and grab your hips, hands stroking your back and ass in a slow, sensual rhythm. Their gaze is full of adoration and affection.

You huff, kissing Naomi quickly before getting up and stretching, Naomi laying in bed, bare torso exposed with their arms behind their head as they watch you move about the room.

Naomi watches you with a small smile as you stretch and move around the room. The late morning light filters through the curtains, leaving sunbeams on your bed and dresser. They don’t move, just taking in a view as they watch you brush your teeth and wash your face. Their eyes scan your body and they let out a contented sigh.

“You getting up, Nomi?” you ask sweetly from the bathroom.

Naomi grunts in response and props their head up a little bit to see you better, smirking at your bare chest. They yawn briefly as they try to rub their eyes and wake themselves up. They seem to take note of you looking over at their bare torso, smiling softly and rolling their eyes at your question.

“Mhm…just a second. Need to wake myself up too.” they reply in a sleepy, drowsy tone. They let out another huge yawn and stretch their body, letting their limbs hang down over the sides of the bed.

“Want me to start the shower?” you ask softly.

“Please, that would be great.” Naomi replies, groaning slightly and shifting up a little bit, letting you see their entire back as they lean forward as they sit on the side of the bed. They move their eyes over their shoulder to look at you. Their gaze is soft and loving, the expression in their eyes shows affection and adoration as they smile softly, waiting for you to leave for the shower, hearing it turn on.

You smile and wink, heading towards the walk in closet, leaving the bathroom for them to go shower.

Naomi hums softly as you leave. Their gaze trails after you for a beat and they turn away, leaning forward once you’re gone and moving their body up, stretching. They pause for a moment and take in a deep breath. They let it out and then rise up, grabbing their phone off the bedside table next to them.

Music plays from Naomi's phone as you get dressed. Sitting in a simple outfit, criss cross in front of your floor length mirror, doing some basic makeup. When Naomi exits, bare torso damp in a pair of boxers, they smirk lightly, loving watching you do your makeup.

A low whistle leaves Noami's mouth, eyebrows raised softly, an expression of intrigue playing on their features as they push their tongue up to their teeth, eyes scanning you.

“Don’t be weird,” you laugh, tapping your beauty blender into your skin.

Naomi chuckles quietly, standing a little bit behind you. Their eyebrows are still slightly raised and you can almost imagine a small grin on their face, not quite visible from your position and yet still obvious.

“No, but seriously, you look good.” Naomi is still grinning as they move closer, standing above you they speak, their voice low and intimate. Their hands come to rest on your shoulders, squatting so that they can shift your body slightly to wrap their arms around you. Their breath is hot on your neck.

You turn your face and pucker your lips for a kiss, Naomi hums gently as your lips meet.. Their hands stroke your arms tenderly. They press their lips to your ear to whisper. It’s a soft, gentle voice, their tone affectionate and their words playful. “You really do look that good, baby.”

“Go put clothes on you goof,” you breathe out lightly, relishing in Naomi’s affection.

Naomi grunts and shifts slightly, lifting their body back up. They lean down and kiss the top of your head, before standing and patting the top of your head affectionately, walking to the closet to get dressed. You smile at their bare, muscly back as you move to apply some mascara.

Naomi comes out from the wardrobe, fully clothed, admiring your features. The way your eyes look as your applying the mascara, the way your hand is steady and moves with a level of dexterity, mouth slightly agape. As you move they watch you, and the eyes are as affectionate and loving as ever. Their gaze lingers on you, moving over your curves, their knees pushing against your back lightly as a signal to hurry up, a small smile and bright eyes make contact with yours in the mirror.

The doorbell rings, Naomi heads downstairs to intercept the flower delivery and the secret pastries they ordered. And when your both downstairs, kissing between sips of coffee and bites of pastry, Naomi's whispering affectionate sentiments as they pull you into their arms. Four songs later, all considerably fast for how slow you move together, through twirls and dips, Naomi's hands support your body. Confident in how the spin you gracefully, muscles tensing as they dip you lower, the fourth song ending as Naomi playfully holds you in a deep dip, strong hand centered on your back, pressing a searing kiss to your throat.

"Love you," Naomi murmurs, kissing your lips tenderly, hands sliding down to rest in the back pockets of your jeans.

"Love you more," you smile, kissing their chin softly as you stand wrapped in each others arms in the middle of the kitchen.

Naomi smiles at you as they observe you with a hint of amusement, you both share a smile.

“Come on babydoll, let’s get going…” Naomi whispers, their eyes still fixed on yours.

You both grab your belongings, your purse usually the dumping ground for Naomi’s keys and wallet and anything else they bring. You both get in the car, Naomi choosing to drive since they know where to go.

They drive carefully, with one hand on the wheel and the other reaching over to rest on your thigh. Naomi hums with contented affection as they look at you. They pause for a moment and glance at you with a playful tone. Their brows are raised slightly, a small grin plays on their lips as they look at you.

“What’re you looking at?” you tease back gently.

Naomi laughs softly and they glance back to the road. Their voice is slightly teasing as they reply.

“Just enjoying the view. It’s quite nice.” Their voice is low and it has a hint of playfulness to it. They keep driving, glancing at you a few times with that same expression on their face.

“Such a dork,” you giggle softly, hand rubbing their wrist, their thumb moving back forth on your thigh, as you move to lean your head onto their shoulder.

Naomi laughs again and they smile gently in response as they keep driving the car. Their hand moves to hold yours gently as their thumb rubs your palm gently.

It takes an hour to get where you are going, Naomi telling you to close your eyes when you’re about to get close. “Nomi…. what?” you ask, squeezing your eyes tight, one hand covering them.

Naomi chuckles to themselves and they squeeze your hand gently, their eyes flicking back to the road again. Their voice is playful and teasing as they smile, voice low. “Just trust me, babydoll.”

They squeeze your hand softly and you can feel them take a deep breath, slowing the vehicle down and shifting to park. The car comes to a stop, the seat belt clicking off as the sound of the engine dies down slightly.

“I do trust you, you’re just being shady,” you giggle loudly.

Naomi laughs back at you, tone gentle and loving. The air in the vehicle is still as Naomi glances over at you. “I promise, Baby, you’ll enjoy it. Just keep your eyes closed and let me lead you.”

Naomi is all smiles and they look back at you, waiting for your reply.

“Ya’messin with me?” you ask mumbling sweetly, Naomi coming around to the passenger side to open the door for you, putting a hand out to help you out of the car, your eyes still closed.

Naomi chuckles and they nod, “Yeah. I totally am messing with you. But shhhh…I want it to be a surprise. Just let me lead you now.”

They take your hand and guide you out of the car gently. You can sense their amusement as they lead you across the parking lot.

“Are we almost there?” you mumble, laughing softly. A shiver runs through you as Naomi’s hands settle on your hips before opening a door with a bell. There’s an obvious smell, but one you can’t place. There’s also scurrying and barking sounds.

Naomi smiles at your mumbling and laughs softly once more. They whisper into your ear and reply teasingly. “You’re so impatient. Just wait a little more.”

They guide you in and then close the door behind you both. The barking and scurrying noises get louder, their hand is still on you and you can feel them squeeze your hips gently.

“Are we…” you start to ask before Naomi uncovers your eyes gently, your jaw dropped as you stand in the covered entrance to an animal shelter.

“Ta-da!” Naomi exclaims softly as the moment of anticipation you experienced finally comes to an end. You see the shelter and your ears fill with the sound of dogs barking. Naomi holds you closely and their expression is full of affection as they see your shocked reaction. They chuckle softly and they smile softly as their hand rests on your hip.

You squeal gently, turning around and jumping into Naomi’s arms, hugging them tightly.

Naomi laughs softly as your body is in their arms. They hug you tightly, holding you against their strong form. Their voice is genuine, sincere and full of affection as they reply. “See? I told you that you’d love it.”

Their hand caresses your back and their breath is warm as it brushes against your neck.

“We’re getting a cat? A dog? I can’t believe you—“ you say hitting their shoulder lightly, tears of happiness in your eyes.

Naomi chuckles softly as your hand meets their shoulder. Their tone is gentle but a small grin is plastered on their features, they really couldn’t resist the surprise. They’re just so happy to see you so happy. They glance at your tears and their mouth curls up into a small smile as they look at you.

“We’re getting a little furry friend.” they murmur, voice soft and tender.

“Just one?” you ask, with big hopeful eyes, maybe trying to convince Naomi for more than one.

Naomi laughs softly as they see your expression. Their eyes are warm as the affection is clear across their face. They caress your back again and they kiss your head softly as they reply.

“Just one.” they murmur. The way they say it seems to imply that maybe you could convince them for more. They’re still smiling and their voice remains soft and genuine as they look at your hopeful eyes.

“We’ll see about that,” you murmur, sassily leaning into their kiss before turning and walking through the main entrance of the shelter.

Naomi smiles and they squeeze your hand as the two of you walk through the main entrance. The barking gets more intense and your eyes wander around as there are plenty of different animals being cared for and looked after. The shelter is busy and the staff is all working hard, that's clear. Naomi’s hand remains on yours as they glance around the place. They smile sweetly at you. Your eyes are still searching around and you can’t help but notice how adorable the animals all are. You’re already a little overwhelmed.

“There’s not as many animals here as I thought,” you say happily.

“I know you’re doing this for me so I’m not lonely when you're on tour but… dog? cat? both?” you ask, the last word cheekily as your hands run under Naomi’s shirt, rubbing their hips and back gently.

Naomi chuckles as they feel your hands underneath their shirt. They can sense your playful mood and they grin as they reply. “Let’s take a look and see what they have first and then we’ll decide.”

After greeting the staff and looking at some of the animals, one member comes and shows you around, your eyes keep being drawn to a shy pit bull mix, laying in one of the kennels.

“Who’s that?” you ask one of the workers.

The staff member smiles softly, their expression kind as they answer the question.

“That little sweetheart is called Max. He’s a bit shy but he’s very sweet. Just needs the right owner.”

Naomi watches the scene carefully. They seem interested in the pit bull mix as their eyes follow it. They listen closely to the response and they smile softly at the staff member.

“How long has he been here?” you ask sweetly, kneeling down outside the cage. The workers tells you not to expect him to interact much, but Max crawls on his belly, shyly, but towards you, small tail wagging.

The staff member seems surprised at Max’s response to you as he crawls closer. The dog’s movement seems slow and cautious but gentle all the same. The tail wagging is a positive sign and your expression says it all. You look over at Naomi and they’ve been watching closely. Their eyes are locked on yours and Max as he crawls towards you.

“How long?” Naomi asks, pulling the staff member out of their surprise watching Max approach you.

The staff member looks at Naomi before responding, having no problems answering your question.

“We rescued Max six months ago. He was abandoned and abused by his previous owner and the damage was quite severe. But he’s been here long enough to heal properly and now he’s looking for a new home. He’s a very good boy but we haven’t had many people showing interest in him so far. That might change today though…”

“Hi sweetheart,” you whisper gently, sticking a finger through the fence material for him to sniff.

Max stares back at you with his soft, loving gaze. He takes your finger gently and sniffs at it with curiosity in his eyes. You can see as his tail wags a little faster when he catches your scent. The animal's body seems to relax and the staff member chuckles warmly at the sight. Naomi is standing there and they watch the interaction with interest and tenderness.

“Can we go in with him?” you ask the worker softly, feeling attached to him already.

The worker nods their head, their expression full of anticipation. They unlock the cage and they step back, encouraging you to step in with a smile. Max stares at you with affection on his face as he sits there, still as you enter. Naomi still wears that same expression of endearment and they keep their eyes on you, following you inside.

You sit on the floor gently, knees up but open as you wait for max to approach you.

Max's body shifts as he makes his way forward. The little pit bull mix watches you as his tail wags. You can see he wants to approach you but he’s shy and his movement is slow and cautious. He stops to sniff the air for a moment before he walks right up to your knees. Max sniffs at your lap briefly and then he leans his body against yours, letting out a small sigh as he rubs against you.

“Oh that’s a good boy,” you say scratching his ears, looking at him with so much love, tapping his butt gently as you pet him.

Max’s tail wags a little faster as you scratch his ears and tap his butt. He rubs up against your lap more, letting out a contented sigh. He seems more relaxed and the little pit bull mix doesn’t seem so shy anymore. His expression says that he’s enjoying the affection. He leans a little bit more against you as your fingers run through his fur.

“I love him” you say, not even looking up at Naomi.

Naomi smiles as they look at you both and they can’t help but agree. They’re pleased to see how you and Max are getting on so well and their voice is gentle as they respond.

“He is cute," Naomi mumbles, leaning down, letting the chunky dog plop into their lap with an "oof".

Their expression is full of affection and they keep watching intently, feeling genuinely pleased with how the situation is panning out. Max’s tail wags even faster when Naomi calls him cute. He leans even more of his body weight against you both as you pet him.

“How old is he?” you ask.

The staff member seems pleased by your interest and they take a short glance at Max as they reply. They seem impressed you’re taking so much time with the dog.

“He’s about three-ish years old… and he’s not been treated very well so we think he might be good with older kids or a couple with no children. With his story, having some time alone with his family would probably help him a lot at the start… but he’s a wonderful dog. We’ve just been waiting for the right person for him.”

“Naomi…” you say looking up at them, doe-eyes, wanting Naomi to interact with Max too.

“Yes honey?” they reply gently. Their tone is soft and affectionate. Their eyes are still on Max as they respond to you.

“Can we?” you ask sweetly, Max licking your chin as you giggle.

Naomi laughs softly at the sight of Max licking your chin. His little tail wags and he makes little contented sounds as he licks your chin. He seems so happy for the first time in a long time. Naomi is pleased by this and they're still watching the interaction with affection. As they respond they seem a little hesitant and they shift a little back towards you both.

“…we could, if you’re sure, babydoll.”

“Never been more sure about anything,” you say confidently.

“S’right Max… you wanna come home with us?” you ask, noticing he doesn’t really answer to his name.

“Can we change his name? He doesn’t really seem interested in Max,” you ask the staff member.

Max’s tail wags when you ask him to come home with you. It’s a small reaction but it’s clear that he knows what you’re asking. His ears move to you a little as he seems to focus on you, wanting you to make the decision.

The staff member seems to find this little interaction cute and they chuckle softly as they respond.

“You can definitely change his name. It’ll help with his transition to you. It’s not always best for animals when they go by the name their previous owners gave them.”

“Let’s do it,” you say to Naomi excited, as you get up gently, staying close to Max so he doesn’t think you’re leaving him.

Naomi chuckles at your excitement, getting up and following the volunteer to go fill out paperwork while you stay with the dog.

"Babe... what's his name?" Naomi asks, calling over from the counter, clipboard in hand.

“What do you think of Bruno, Nomi?” you ask softly.

Naomi smiles at the suggestion and they seem to think the name is perfect. They shift their body a little to get a better look at you. Their body language seems to signal approval with how they look at you and they nod their head.

“I like it.” they reply softly, their voice is genuine and soft.

Bruno’s little tail wags as he rubs up against your calf and you hear a contented sigh coming from the little pit bull mix. His little look of affection and warmth melts your heart and you laugh softly at the affection Bruno is showing you.

"Me too," you smile softly, looking down at the dog sitting at your feet.

..............................................................................................................................

"Bruno.... hey, bruno, buddy... move it," Naomi grunts softly, trying to push the pitbull's butt out from their ribcage. They sit up softly, looking down at the two of you cuddling, Bruno's eyes opened in the dark room, staring up at Naomi.

"Look dude, I know she's your mama, but she's my woman and you're hogging her," Naomi croaks out. And as if out of spite, Bruno huffs, pushing his nose into your neck, ignoring Naomi.

"You gotta be fucking kidding... you're so lucky you're cute," Naomi groans, laying back down, settling for reaching their arm across Bruno, hand settling on your ass over the covers.

Bruno's nub of a tail thumps, seemingly happy with this arrangement.

"Oh don't get cocky," Naomi mumbles, trying to fall back asleep with minimal contact with you.

sooo... felt like i once again wrote a whole lotta nothin...probs so many errors...

love u < 3

#muna x reader #naomi mcpherson x reader #naomi mcpherson x soft!gf #soft!gf universe #naomi mcpherson mini fic #naomi mcpherson fluff #muna fluff #gingy's cupid shuffle

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elderscrollsconfessions · 8 months

Text

Confession: "i dont like the stormcloaks bc theyre racist" THEYRE ALL RACIST! EVERY FACTION!! they arent even SUBTLE about it!! sobbing crying weeping. the nords endured a cultural erasure from the imperials that spanned the course of actual centuries and it BACKFIRED like maybe if they didnt push their own gods onto the nords the civil war wouldnt have happened idk!! talos is NOT a part of the original nordic pantheon like if the empire didnt do a bit of imperialization they woulda been FINE. im sorry ths is lengthy but im going insane

#the length of this is fine no worries #I'll avoid weighing in except to say that parallels to irl bigotry probably play a role in how people perceive Stormcloaks vs other faction #The Elder Scrolls #Skyrim #TES #ESC #Stormcloaks #Skyrim Civil War

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hazbmymhotel · 5 months

Text

Heading to the spider’s nest

Chapter 6 is out!!

“It feels good to be doin’ my own business for once, Husker,” Angel said, stretching his arms above his head. It brought attention to a silky blouse he was wearing, paired with a tiny plaid skirt. Angel vowed to find something more matronly on the way home.

“Didn't you do shit for yourself all the time outside of the studio?” Husk asked, stretching his wings back behind him. “As far as deals went, yours was fairly lax.”

“Psh. I'm gonna tell you the scars I got under my fur say otherwise,” Angel rolled his eyes. He turned the corner, heading towards the dingiest part of the city.

“You should show me sometime,” Husk said, his voice low and flirty.

Angel grinned, “shut up, Kitty Cat. I got fuckin’ work to do. I can't be all weak kneed.” Though he was still trembling from the withdrawals, it was an easier shaking to handle than tummy flips.

“Do we have a plan?” Husk asked.

“Mm. Well, I figured I'd just go in and ask,” Angel answered. “I mean, my Father is probably gonna be a real prick, but Arackniss will tell me whatever I want if I ask real nice.”

“And your Mother?”

“Ma will probably tell me somethin’ crazy stupid and hand me the worst mixtape ever made. I'm glad she's moved on from records, though, those are annoying to carry around.”

“Your ‘Ma’ likes music?” Husk asked, a small smile playing on his lips. “Was she big in the jazz scene?”

Angel shrugged a little, “I mean, maybe? She was usually gettin’ pushed around by Dad. He's a real asshole.”

“Am I going to have to watch out for him?” Husk raised his eyebrows. “Am I going to need to be a barrier between you two?”

“Why ya askin’ these kinda questions?” Angel asked, frowning.

“It's not the first time I've gotten married on a whim and met the parents after the fact. It's also not the first time I've had to deal with my spouse’s shitty father.”

Angel paused his step.

“You've been married before?”

Husk stopped a few feet ahead, turning his head back. “Twice…technically three times if you count that ceremony in India.”

“Excuse me?” Angel wheezed. “How come you've never said nothin’?”

“You've never asked.” Husk tapped his foot until Angel started walking again. “It's not common to just discuss topside life unless you're freshly buried.”

“Well, yeah…Yeah, I know that. I'm just…” Angel chewed his lip. “I feel like I shoulda asked that.”

Husk patted his own jacket and pulled out a flask. “What else do you feel like you should ask?” He took a swig.

Angel held his hand out until Husk gave him a sip. “Do you got any kids?”

Husk sighed. “Makes sense that was the next question. Two. One of my girls is in hell as far as I know.”

“Am I gonna meet her after this?” Angel’s heart was slamming in his chest as he handed back the flask.

“She told me not to talk to her after my second marriage. She's made it clear that we're not going to down here.” Husk tilted his head back on his next drink.

Angel asked quickly, “And how'd your first marriage end?”

“Hah.” Husk smirked a little. “Fucked a twink outside of a club in Chicago after I botched a magic show.”

“So she caught ya?”

“No…No, I couldn't keep that a secret.” Husk capped his flask. “I had a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve…I learned to play my cards close to my chest after that. My second marriage ended after I gave her the clap.”

Angel barked out a laugh then covered his mouth. “Sorry, sorry! I thought it woulda been the gamblin’...I didn't realize you were a whore.”

Husk decidedly reopened his flask.

“The gambling didn't help.” He took a drink. “Sometimes it was the stakes I was bettin’ on that got me into someone's bed. Sometimes I…just couldn't help myself.” Husk wrinkled his nose, “it's no excuse. I don't find myself attracted to a lot of people, but when I do, it can be hard to control the urge.”

“Should I be insulted that you barely looked at me then?” Angel crossed his arms.

“You get insulted if someone misgenders your pig.”

“Fat Nuggets is a prince and should be respected,” Angel pouted.

“Hm.” Husk finally tucked his flask away. “No, I wouldn't be too worried if I were you, Angel. You're interestin’ when you're being honest. Plus you're gorgeous, which is a bonus.”

Angel blushed beneath his fur. He tightened his crossed arms over his chest and stomach, trying to contain the butterflies. “I mean…you're not half bad yourself. Am I gonna have to drag you home from some dame's house occasionally when you get too ‘hot and bothered’ or whatever?”

“Maybe. I don't really discriminate on gender… but I imagine it won't be long before you're missing having a group of men toss you around. Fair trade, right?” Husk tucked his wings closer to himself, knowing his Infidelities had usually been deal breakers.

Angel considered. “Fair. I do like t’have my holes filled.”

“One man’s cock cannot do all that,” Husk said.

“Yeah, but yours has all those…little nubs on it,” Angel found himself breathless again.

Husk cleared his throat a little. “Penile spines…An unfortunate side effect of my cat body. It's been effective at keeping me from fuckin’ anybody.”

“Excuse me?!?! Unfortunate?!” Angel fanned himself with all four arms. “I am goin’ insane at the thought of that thing rubbin’ at my insides. Will you make those cute little sounds you do all the time?” He stumbled a little. “Oh man. Maybe we shouldn't go today, I'm gettin' all weak kneed.”

“I don't make little sounds,” Husk said under his breath with a pouting mrrow. His tail flicked.

“Stop, you're killin' me!” Angel begged. “You're a little guy, and I just can't take it!”

“Could you stop flirting this hard in public?” Husk blushed furiously.

“ME?!” Angel could weep, he was so worked up.

Both of them straightened up, hands going to their holsters when someone burst out of a side door.

“What's all this racket?!” Arackniss yelled, his many eyes searching the scene while he raised two guns. His gazes settled on Angel and he relaxed. “Anthony!” He tucked his guns away. “What're you’s doin’ here, you gigantic cunt?”

Husk bristled, but Angel squealed, running forward and throwing his arms around the other spider.

“I was hopin’ it'd be you, you big fuckin’ knuckle head!” Angel squeezed his brother, having to lean over heavily to do so. The other man hugged Angel firmly, arms overlapping each other on his slim waist.

“Did the cat drag you in? Haha, who's that mook, huh?” Arackniss asked, patting Angel’s back to let him go.

Angel beamed back at Husk. “Oh, Nickie, that's my new husband, Husker.”

Arackniss shoved Angel aside and squared up at Husk, stalking towards him. It wasn't often he was taller than another demon, so it was nice to feel intimidating. “You’s think I'm gonna let my little baby brother frolic around with another goddamn queer ass little bitch with a tight ass and broad shoulders?”

Husk readied his hand on his playing cards.

“‘Course I am!” Arackniss raised his own arms threateningly…and wrapped all six around the man in a firm grip. “Put ‘er there, you’s mangy animal! I'm Nicolas!”

Husk squirmed and mrowled aggressively until he was able to wriggle free. He smoothed his hands over his fur. “Charmed,” he said flatly.

Arackniss laughed and slapped Angel’s back. “You's sure do like pricks!”

“Well I like you, don't I?” Angel slung two arms around his shoulder. “I got a question for ya, bro. You got a minute?”

The shorter spider glanced at the door, then back at Angel. “We're sorta interrogatin–”

The door slammed open again. “Arackniss, what's takin’ you’s? We got fingers to cut.”

Arackniss made an indecisive sound, “mmmnnListen, come on in. We's got some fuckin’ guests, boys!” He grabbed both of their arms, tugging Husk and Angel inside.

Husk crossed his arms, surveying the scene. It was an old warehouse of sorts. There were hooks and chains dangling from the ceiling.

“This'll only take a minute, Anthony,” Arackniss promised, stalking into a back room.

Husk frowned, his eyes dilating in the dimly lit space. Angel’s eyes glowed, which only made Husk feel more on edge in the current situation.

“Lame,” Angel complained. “Guess we better find Ma before Dad shows up.” He started walking away from Arackniss’ position. “I hope her little office is still back this way.”

“Hm.” Husk’s voice was low. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Angel?” He followed him and flattened his ears back to the sounds of muffled screams.

“What? Are you scared, Whiskers?” Angel asked, “didn't you tell me once you know how to interrogate a man?”

“It works a lot better if you butter them up first,” Husk said, glancing back. “Torture just gets them to say whatever you want to hear.”

“I dunno…I like torture. Makes me get wet.” Angel whispered, still feeling tingly from their moment outside.

“Can you stop thinking about sex for one–it makes you wet?” Husk’s feathers fluffed.

“Baby, have you really never watched one of my movies?” Angel asked, surprised. “Probably that's my special demon power. I was just reborn to be a star.”

Husk held his face in his paw and sighed.

“Oh! There it is!” Angel grabbed his hand off his face and pulled him forward. He knocked on a door eagerly. “Ma! You in there?”

“Come in!” A raspy voice called.

Angel opened the door to a plume of incense smoke. Probably. “I'm gonna assume that's incense,” he said out loud as he stepped in.

“I've been expectin’ you’s both,” said a woman settled into a large chair spun of webs. “My Tony, sweet boy, come gives me a big kiss.”

Angel giggled and pranced to her side, letting his mother smooch both of his cheeks. He stood straight and bounced back to Husker, grabbing both of his hands. “Ma, this is my husband, Husker, Husk, this is my Ma, Amy.”

“Amphetamy, please. The Don is lurking,” she warned.

Angel sighed and shut the door behind him. “Figures. I was hopin’ to avoid that big-” he stopped as Amphetamy leveled him a look. “Sorry, Ma. I came to ask Arackniss a question, but he's busy.”

Husk cleared his throat. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.

“It’s good to see my boy settling down with a distinguished gentleman,” she said, holding her hands out and gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk.

Husk looked at Angel before they both took a seat. The woman busied herself with lighting a new incense cone and laying out a few saucers. She filled each one with a different substance: wine, whiskey, and cream. She unwrapped a cassette tape and used her spindly fingers to wind the take-up reel. Finally, Amphetamy heaved a boom box onto the table, and placed the tape inside.

Husk found himself staring at the saucer of cream until Angel startled him.

“We're gettin’ a fortune, huh?” Angel asked flatly. “The last one didn't make any damned sense, Ma. It was full of the goddamn Beatles and Rollin’ Stones.”

“And ACDC.” Amphetamy scoffed at him. “Learn some manners, boy. I'm doing a service for you's. If you’d have listened to my last tape, your soul would still never had fallen into a moth’s hands.”

Angel pursed his lips.

“How does this work, Ma’am?”

“I will answer your questions with my favorite medium. Music.” Amphetamy smiled at Husk, decidedly pouring additional cream into a glass, handing it to him as a reward for not being a little shit.

Husk tried not to look too eager.

“Go on, drink, it's not for my work.” Amphetamy urged. “But what is…I want to hear those questions.” She hit the “record” button on the boom box.

Husk sipped his cream, licking his lips to clear it from his fur. His tongue stuck out in a small blep, forgotten there.

Angel leaned on his elbow and watched Husker adoringly. “Well, Ma,” he said, voice wistful, “I broke a contract a couple's nights ago.”

“That isn't a question, child.”

Angel tried not to squirm as he watched Husk take another sip, absently licking the edge of the glass. He was so cute it hurt. “Well I broke my contract on a whim, Ma. And I don't know how I did it.”

Amphetamy looked at him flatly then looked at Husk. “Could one of you’s please articulate this into a question? Anyquestion??”

Husk gave a soft, warm chuckle. “Sorry, ma'am, we both know Angel has trouble with simple instruction.”

“Hey,” Angel pouted.

Husk continued, “How did Angel Dust break his own contract with Valentino?”

“Good,” Amphetamy said as the Boom Box started to whir. “More questions.”

Angel frowned, “you're not gonna answer us.”

“Questions!!” Amphetamy hissed.

“Ffffine. Are you not gonna answer us, Ma? Ow!” Angel jumped as Husk pinched his arm.

“Not those kinds of questions, jackass.” Husk swirled his cup, thinking. “How will our mutual contract affect us?”

“Good. Better. Keep asking as they bubble into your heads,” Amphetamy encouraged.

Angel rubbed his arm, pouting. “Will doing this bite me in the ass?”

“Less vague,” she said, guiding.

“Will promisin’ myself to Husk…I mean…is it a good idea?” Angel asked nervously, turning to watch his mother.

Husk, unbothered, asked, “what do we do about our contract now?”

“Should I try overlordin?”

Amphetamy held up a hand and looked at her boom box.

“Ask…different questions. Take your time.”

Angel groaned and turned to watch Husk again, trying to decide what to ask next.

Husk dipped his tongue into his glass.

Angel’s eyes glistened. “Isn't he the cutest, Ma?”

She sighed. Husk glared at him, but the look softened as his mind worked.

“How will our contract end?” Husk asked somberly.

“Don't ask shit like that!” Angel gasped, horrified, “take it back! Ma, how do I make the contract un-end?”

Husk reached over and held his paw on Angel’s arm. Angel covered it with two of his own hands, squeezing. “How do I even know what to do, Ma? I need advice for once!”

“I'm giving it to you,” Amphetamy promised. “Two more questions.”

“No you ain't!”

“Angel, calm down,” Husk soothed.

“No! All I want is for my fuckin' afterlife to be better than my shitty fuckin’ human life! Is that so much to ask?!”

“One more question.”

Husk set his glass down and stood on his chair to reach. He held Angel’s face in his hands and looked in his eyes. “Calm down…You know I love you, right?”

Amphetamy reached over and turned off the recording. “Such a difficult boy.”

Angel weakly touched Husk's hands on his face, eyes wet. “You love me? You do?”

Husk leaned forward, kissing his forehead. “Yes.” He grunted as Angel pulled him off of his chair, holding him tightly.

Clearing her throat, Amphetamy held out the cassette. “Listen to the songs. Really listen, Angel.”

Angel looked over Husk's shoulder and reached out for the tape. “It's gonna be bad, isn't it?”

“I don't know. The music places itself on there,” Amphetamy said, “now, listen.”

Angel nodded. Husk hopped down, having to stand on his toes to look over the desk. “Thank you, Ma'am.”

“I like this one, Angel, he's the first polite man you've brought home,” Amphetamy said. “Now go on before the Don finds you’s both.”

“Yeah, yeah…I know he's gonna be mad I didn't get permission for this,” Angel rolled his eyes. Still, he smiled warmly at her, “I love you, Ma.”

She blew him a kiss.

Angel and Husk walked through the now quiet warehouse, their feet each padding and clicking on the cement respectfully. When they reached the outside, Angel handed Husk the tape. “Keep it safe for Mommy, would ya?”

Husk huffed, but took it anyway, tucking it into his jacket. He paused. He frantically tapped over his jacket and pants. “My cards.”

“What?” Angel asked, startled.

“My fuckin’ cards are missing!”

Angel, alarmed, gave himself a once over. He wheezed. “My knife.”

“Not your guns?”

“My angelic knife,” Angel’s voice was tight. “Arackniss.”

Husk bristled, ready to turn heel.

“No-!” Angel grabbed his shoulder. “That's the only angelic weapon I had on me.”

“I'm not leavin’ my favorite fuckin' deck!” Husk growled. “And we can't let them figure out what that knife does.”

Angel grit his teeth. “Shit. Shit, you're right.”

#huskerdust #hazbin hotel #mymart #husker #fanfic #til death do us part

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