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#one of these days someone is just going to clip into the ground and be gone forever
elegyofthemoon · 11 months
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getting jumpscared by voice actors is so funny i was just trying to watch old dgrayman scene compiles and suddenly iAN SINCLAIR?????
#ok i didnt stick w the eng dub for super long before alskjf#i mostly watched it in jp ! but i did try eng dub for a bit#i didnt get to when they switched travis willingham for ian sinclair though for yuu and that made me go :O#like tHIS close to picking up the anime but Q _ Q i dont wannaaaaa but also....i wonder if the eng dub is good#i dont like allens va#LIKE hes fine!!! as a va !!! but i just dont like him as ALLEN i think idk#LIKE i cant remember peoples performances well enough to recall whod be good#but like. someone who can manage that perfect balance of sounding gentle and grounded HRM#i will say though whatever they did for lavi's va good job cuz like. while it wasnt exactly the voice i expected it was Amazing from the#clip i saw LOL#this isnt me reading dgm but ill tag it anyways as so#snow reads dgm#i cant tell if i like or dislike lenalee's voice in eng.... i would need more i think...#BUT ian sinclair??? bro i would love to see him do the eps w yuu and alma...#i stopped midway through alma's arc when i was first reading trhough it so i dont know their full story but ; - ;#one of these days. ill make some fancast...#OH YKNOW WHAT i can see like. whoever id pick for jack's voice actor. id give to allen too.... idk if that says anything about me.#i wouldnt even say that jacks like gentle/grounded (hes not) but THATS THE FALSE CHARM HE GOT !!!! SO I THINK ITD WORK#i say gentle but what i really mean is like gentle-borderline-empty sounding#anyways. enough me blabbing sorry sorry lol
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ghouljams · 6 months
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More Viking!Soap because I couldn't think of anything to beat knight!Ghost with and I need something to be cathartic no matter how small that catharsis is.
It takes another day to reach the coast. The waves beat against the cliffside, Mactavish’s hand is tight around yours as he helps you down the rocky path. Your feet ache, and you do your best not to stumble. His hands grip your hips, lifting you up off a rock he’d jumped down from. As easy as moving a child. You’re set back on uneven ground and he doesn’t look at you. Singularly focused, you think to yourself.
You understand why. Down at the beach you can see men, fire, a long ship with a curling bow. You grip Mactavish’s hand tighter, a small comfort you cease as soon as you start. He doesn’t comment on it, except to squeeze your hand quickly in return. 
“I should have asked earlier,” He mumbles, “you’re a healer, right?”
You feel your heart tumble into your stomach. That’s right, you’re only alive because you’re useful. Only brought along because he had no other options after your village was burned. 
“I’m still learning,” You tell him quietly. He lets out a breath, nods shortly.
“Know more than the rest of ‘em, I’d bet.” He assures you with a smile. “Say yes the next time someone asks, you’ll live longer.”
It’s not a threat, not from him at least, but it’s a guarantee. Healers live longer, and you have nothing else to your name to defend yourself with. He certainly isn’t going to defend you. You think it might be a chill from the sea air that makes you shiver. 
Mactavish walks in front of you down the beach. He keeps hold of your hand, as if you had somewhere to run to, and keeps you behind him as he approaches the other vikings. You peak around him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen men so big as them. The furs and paint on their faces denote their trade as easily as their braided hair and combed beards. Walking behind Mactavish you can see the tiny braids that wind through his hair as well, the small shiny beads and clips of metal hidden within the woody brown. 
One of the men near the edge of camp spots you both and makes his way towards your companion. Your hand is dropped to clap into the waiting palm of the other viking, who embraces Mactavish with a smile.
“What took you? Thought we’d have to send out a search,” The man laughs. He feels friendly but his eyes, a warm russet against his dark skin, sharpen when they touch you. “Just the one?” He asks, “Thought there’d be more willing to work.” Your shoulders stiffen, your arms close against your sides. Danish, you think, maybe. You know it well enough to keep your mouth shut. Mactavish glances at you.
“They were burning by the time I got there,” He says quietly, the danish feels so foreign on his tongue after hearing him speak gaelic. It breaks your heart anew to hear your tragedy described so callously. It helps seeing the other man’s eyes soften. “Tell Ghost not to scare ‘er, had enough of that for a lifetime,” Mactavish finishes, and you feel something squeeze in your stomach. The other viking nods.
“Happy to have a healer aboard again,” The viking tells you, his accent is pretty decent, the gaelic smooth on his tongue. “She’s pretty,” He mumbles to Mactavish, switching back to danish as quick as could be.
“Leave it,” Mactavish warns, his teeth bared with a flash of white. You tune him out, translating is making you tired, and look around camp. The fire is roaring, and men stare at you with open curiosity. Their interest makes your skin crawl. So many men, unfamiliar men, with the same propensity for violence as all vikings. You can’t think of a deeper abyss to throw yourself into, more bears to surround yourself with. “You alright?” Mactavish asks you, the gaelic snapping you from your thoughts.
“What do you care?” You snap at him, trying to keep your barbs sharp in the hopes others will see your bite. Maybe it will keep you safe. Mactavish’s eyes slide from yours, looking at the other men in camp.
“They won’t hurt you,” He tells you. What does he know? Men never think their peers are capable of the things women warn each other about. You say nothing, and after a moment Mactavish moves. Out of the corner of your eye you see him unfasten the pin holding together the fur around his neck. He’s quick to wrap it around your shoulders, hardly bothered you haven’t tilted your chin for him as he fastens it to your earasaid. “Gods if I ever have the time,” He mumbles to himself, his fingers toying with the pin. You get the feeling he’s not used to his gaelic being understood.
“You’ll what?” You challenge, eyes still fixed on the camp. His fingers hold your chin, dragging your attention back to him. It’s a gentle movement, but you tense at his touch. He’s quick to release you.
“Court you properly,” Mactavish clears his throat, fingers fixing the fur into place, “but this’ll do for now. You have my word-” his eyes are more serious when you meet them, “-no one will touch you.”
Sure, you tug yourself from his grip, you’ll believe that when you see it.
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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tw: simon's mean and a sexist.
Simon who doesn't like you. He respects Laswell, who's intel is vital to their missions. Price as the leader of the Task Force. Gaz because he's proved his mettle time and time again, and Soap whose stubborn self has burrowed under Simon's thick, knotted flesh.
Not you, though.
You've yet to do anything substantial.
As a sniper, your job is to aim and kill; provide overwatch. Why Johnny insists on giving you praise for doing what is required of you is beyond him.
You aren't taken to below-zero temperatures as emotional support. Why you're taken at all is also another mystery.
Without your gun, you're utterly useless. And Simon proves it, time and time again during training spars at base.
He comes at you as if you're the enemy, with dangerous precision and quick movements. Simon gets enjoyment out of seeing your eyes widen when he moves, like an injured gazelle who's just spotted a ravenous lion.
His grip is bruising— the force that he slams you to the ground with devastating.
Simon can hear the air punched out of your lungs once your back hits the mat, and the time it takes for your vision to sharpen, he's already pinning you down viciously with a knee to the sternum.
Useless. Women don't belong in combat. He's seen that big brute from KorTac. He'd crush your pathetic little head under his palm, he'd kick your ribs hard enough to crack and the splintered ends pierce your lungs.
He'd kill you without a hint of effort.
And Simon intends to remind you that there is no place for weak, bitty things like you in the front lines. Unless you're to be used as a distraction by flashing your tits at the bad guys.
Out of place.
Every time you go up against him, he uses his size and strength against you, just like every other person will. He launches you across the floor with a single arm, only to watch you struggle to get up and continue this sham of a fight.
Confidence born of ignorance.
As if sheer will would ever beat physical prowess.
If your feet won't touch the ground, then the rest of your body will. Through spilled blood and bruised flesh, may you learn.
He whistles at Johnny, gesturing at him to take his place, only for the end result to be the same, albeit much more gently.
Simon watches you through half-lidded eyes as he leans up against the wall. You fight against inevitability.
Pathetic.
And then one day, you come at him with a snarl on your lips. Blunt teeth that have never had to sink into someone's neck and rip a throat out, out of utter desperation. An unblemished face that's never felt the sting of a sharp blade as it's sliced open contorted into 'rage.' Frothing at the mouth like a lap dog with rabies, barking out words that are as empty as your future.
A forceful wave of his hand abruptly halts you mid-sentence, causing you to involuntarily flinch in response. Good.
"If ya have a complaint, take it to Price. I am not obligated to humor your stupidity."
He spins on the balls of his feet, leaving you to sputter indignantly.
Then on a mission, you get shot. Simon grabs the handgun that's holstered on his chest, and places it in your bloodied hands. "Keep them off of us, or we're both dead!"
His fingers are curled around the thick strap of your tac vest as he drags you toward the LZ; his pace never faltering even while getting clipped by stray bullets. But you?
He'd think you got your legs cut off. Wailing like a cat in heat over a wound above your hip. A clean in and out, nothing vital hit.
Simon has seen Gaz fall out of a helicopter, dangle from a rope, and still use his gun. He's seen Johnny cross a town full of Graves' Shadows bleeding from his shoulder, armed with nothing but the makeshift weapons he crafted on the way to the church. Price inhaled toxic gas and made it out just fine. Even Laswell was taken hostage and didn't crack under the pressure, going as far as killing her captor with her bare hands.
And you're decomposing in front of his very eyes over a superficial wound.
Landing at base, he walks out without a glance back and heads straight for Price's office. He didn't join the 141 to babysit anyone, least of all someone who belongs in either intelligence or a kitchen.
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nattblacklupin · 1 month
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Never was much of a romantic
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Pairing: Cassian x Fem! Illyrian! Reader
Warning: mention of wing clipping (just as a threat), Devlon being asshole, reader simping on Cassian, reader is described as being shorter than Devlon and Cassian, random switches in pov (like two times), little bit of angst (cassian feels like he doesn't deserve love), swear words, little bit of Nesta slander
Summary: Cassian meets you in Windhaven and sees you arguring with Devlon. Something about your fierce attitude makes him want to be closer to you.
Part two ● masterlist
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Cassian was never much of a romantic. He was one night stand guy. He never felt the need to actually love someone. But later on in his life, he has been feeling more and more alone. He saw his friends find love, mates. Everybody had their own person while he was stuck alone.
He, of course, had his family, the inner circle. They would help him with anything and do anything for him. But it's not the same as having a mate. Someone to love and cherish. Someone who will see through him and know when he really isn't alright.
For a while, he thought that Nesta was his mate. But then she left the night court for autumn court, specifically for the heir of autumn court. And he was alone again.
Nesta absence took a tool on him. He really thought they were meant to be, and she even acted like it. But then one day she just left, only leaving a letter as a goodbye. That made Cassian believe he didn't have a mate. They were rare, so maybe he was meant to never find her. It was possible, and he wouldn't be surprised if it was like that. At the end of the day, he is a low born bastard who doesn't deserve anything more than his ratty tent.
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Rhys sent him to Windhaven to check if everyone is being trained as commanded to. If he had any say in this, he wouldn't come here. He hated Devlon and this place. It reminded him of all the bad things that happened there when he was just a child. The only good thing about this place was when he met Rhysand with Azriel. His two brothers are the only reason he's still alive.
But he had to follow the orders of his high lord. Maybe he could go to Rita's after and enjoy the night with his family after he is done here. That thought made him feel somehow lighter. Nothing is better than night with his family.
,,I will train, and I don't care what you tell me"
Cassian immediately looked the way the voice was coming from. He saw illyrian woman standing in front of Devlon. There was a visible high difference between them, but she didn't let it affect her and continued to stand her ground. Cassian was amazed by that and decided to watch for some while. If something happened, he could help her, not that she looked like she needed it. Yet as he was standing there and seeing her arguring with a man that was nearly twice her size, he came to conclusion that maybe women in this camp could put Devlon in his place even better than he ever could.
"You should be glad that you still have your wings, I could just clip them as a punishment for your disobedience"
You just laughed in his face. "do it, and my high lord will have your head. "
Cassian heart warmed at the thought that illyrian women trust Rhys to protect them. They finally trust Rhysand enough to rely on him to protect them and punish those who hurt them.
Devlon just laughed in her face, and that somehow made Cassian mad. He didn't know why he was feeling like this. He had this uncontrollable need to protect her and to make her like him. It was the first time he ever felt like this.
"Do you mean the little princeling and his two bastards? They don't give fuck about some useless woman like yourself"
"Sadly to inform you, Lord Devlon," cassian said mockingly, "but we surely give fuck, so i suggest you to step back and let that woman be"
Cassian flared his wings to make himself the bigger threat in this situation and stepped in front of you. While the two men in front of you had their own silent battle, you couldn't help but admire Cassian.
You knew who he was. Who wouldn't know him? Yet you never seen him. Yeah, you heard stories about how he looks, but your imagination could never come up with the god that stands in front of you. His tan skin. The way his muscles flexed under his leathers. And his wings? They had little scars all over them, yet you couldn't help but admire them. They were so strong. True to his reputation, these were the wings of warrior.
He slowly turned around and you couldn't see his strong back and wings, which was slightly disappointing to you, but the moment you were met with his strong chest you wished for him to never turn around. Everything about him looked so right and hot. You looked up and saw Cassian grinning at you.
,,you alright there, sweetheart?"
Your heart started beating uncontrollably fast, and you swear that it could be heard on the other side of the Windhaven. You couldn't look away from his Hazel eyes. It was like they were holding you in their mercy and weren't planning on letting you go. Yet you still needed to answer him, to hear his voice again.
"I-" before you could finish your sentence something snapped between you two.
,,mate"
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scoops-aboy86 · 22 days
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Twice Shy
For the April @steddiemicrofic prompt 'fool'!
wc: 454 | rated: G | cw: none | tags: referenced recreational drug use, brief angst with a happy ending, Nancy really messed Steve up, chubby Steve Harrington if you squint
Steve’s been fooled by Eddie plenty of times. When they were in school together, the guy once sold him literal grass clippings as weed and was an off-putting ass at every opportunity. Some of that could be explained by shit Tommy or the other jocks pulled, but mostly it was part of the bit. If Eddie was going to be cast as a freak, he’d be The Freak and become untouchable. 
Spring Break dropped Eddie straight into a bucket of trauma and rinsed that bravado away. And Steve had bought into the idea that only cowardice was left—not judging him for it, because Steve had almost run too, back in the very beginning. 
Until the idiot shocked them all by standing his ground against the demobats, saving Dustin’s life. 
Being shoved against a wall one day and called “big boy” another have weaseled their way into Steve’s head. So, once the doctors clear Eddie to go home, Steve offers his because… the guy no longer has one. Wayne moves in too, and for a while it feels like having family around. Less like family when Eddie kisses him on the couch one night during an impromptu Star Wars marathon, but, yeah. Eddie’s shit starts gradually migrating up into Steve’s room until, a month or two later, he’s basically moved in. 
So it hurts when Steve, who just wanted to surprise Eddie at Corroded Coffin’s first show back at the Hideout, after they played the song Eddie  wrote for him, watches his supposed boyfriend sidle up to some guy at the bar and lean in to say something with that smile. The one Steve thought was just for him. 
Someone drops their drink, spattering Steve’s shoes with glass shards and beer. He doesn’t realize until Eddie looks up that it was him, and, well. Of all the times he’s been fooled into thinking Eddie’s something he’s not, this one is the worst. So Steve does what he did when Nancy called him bullshit; he turns and shoves his way out the door. 
Only this time, he’s followed. Can’t help thinking I used to be faster than this when Eddie catches up.
“Steve—He asked about your song!”
Pride keeps Steve moving, but his thoughts hesitate. When they’re even with the van he lets Eddie pull him alongside it, less visible between cars, relatively safe. 
“Baby,” Eddie says, eyes huge and close. He smells like sweat and smoke, but thankfully not booze. “I know how that must’ve looked, but I love you. You’re it for me.”
Steve has always been the first to say it… but not this time. Feeling like a fool for jumping to conclusions, he hugs Eddie close. “Shit, Eds, I love you too.”
Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie
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tooearlyforthis · 11 months
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Bound in Pain | Steve Harrington
Pairing: Steve Harrington x soulmate!Reader
Word Count: 8.6k
Synopsis: In a world where you can feel your soulmate's pain, y/n gives up hope. That was until Vecna attacked Hawkins.
Warnings: during season 4, fluff, soulmate AU!
I love soulmate au's but they are so rare. Petition for more of these to be written please!
Click here to see my masterlist
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Y/n didn’t like the soulmate attachment. It seemed weird to her that everyone in the world had someone perfect for them, so perfect, that they could feel each other's pain. A tether that connected souls, meant to help find each other in the sea of other people.
She remembered when she found out. Waking up with bruises covering her, like an artist painting a canvas. A sharp pain pulsated through her arms, as her parents explained why it was happening to her. Why she was feeling pain without cause. 
At first she dismissed the constant pain as reckless behavior. But then the small bruises turned into black eyes, scrapes turned into gashes, and she couldn’t wait for the day she could ask her soulmate why. 
Most people found their other half around the time they turned 16. No one knew why but it always ended up that way. Why did bond forced people together at such a young age? To prevent them from deviating? To start the rest of their lives? 
Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. Y/n woke up on the morning of that birthday with a twinkle in her eyes, a sudden hope that maybe today was the day she would find them. She kept her eyes peeled, watching the movements of everyone around her. But days passed, even months and still there was no sign of her soulmate anywhere. 
A majority of the kids in her grade had already found their match and her blood boiled every time she would pass them in the halls. So cute, so perfect together. It was just a reminder that she was still alone. Where could her soulmate be? Was she unlucky? Did they live an unfathomable distance away from her?
After graduating high school, with still no hint as to who her partner could be, Y/n gave up hope. Maybe she was meant to be single forever. Maybe this other person, who was so careless and rash, was meant to stay anonymous. 
It wasn’t until the summer of ’85 that she knew she would definitively be alone. During the cold night of Fourth of July, she was waiting in a churro line at the Hawkin’s Fair, accompanied by a friend she knew back in high school. One minute she was moving forward, watching as someone left with their food and the next…it was like a punch in the gut. 
Falling over, she slammed into the ground, the coarse dirt digging into her sides. But the pain didn’t stop. Punch after punch, slap after slap, Y/n cried out in pain. It was so intense, unlike anything she had ever felt before. 
Her friend had managed to get her home in time for a pulsating sting to go through her neck, knocking her out for the rest of the night. She didn’t hear about the mall until the next day. It was a logical conclusion to say her soulmate died in that fire. After years and years of bruises and punches it all just stopped. No more stubbed toes or bruises on her legs; it was all gone.
For months after, she would stare at the newspaper clipping with the pictures of everyone who died. Somewhere amongst all the fallen faces was her soulmate. Part of her was sad she didn’t get to meet them. That everyone around her got their fairytale ending while she was destined to be alone. 
She had already made her peace with never finding them but now it felt permanent. It wasn’t some lie she was telling herself because of the long delay - it was the truth.
On one particular day in March, Y/n got off from work hoping for a pick me up. One of her coworkers who was still in high school had found her soulmate during their shift and she couldn’t stand to be around them.
She walked into her local video store and began perusing the aisles. Maybe something with action? A Mystery? She wasn’t in the mood for anything in particular. Just something to keep her distracted for a few hours ‘till nightfall. 
One of the staff rounded the corner, speaking before he could even spot who it was. “Hey, welcome to Family Video what can I-” He smiled when he saw her. “Oh, hey, Y/n.”
She smiled back, “Hey, Steve.”
Steve Harrington, former ruler of Hawkins High, slumped against a shelf and crossed his arms. His “customer helping” voice faded as he eased back into his own personality. Y/n didn’t know Steve well in school, despite being in the same grade. She did, however, become somewhat friends with him over the summer. 
Before the mall fire, she had a cushy job as the receptionist at a nail salon right across from the ice scream shop he worked in. Oftentimes, her co-workers would send her over to Scoops Ahoy to get ice cream for everyone, especially when the humid summer air came into effect. 
What started as friendly hellos and waves with Steve and Robin soon turned into conversations and hangouts during lunch breaks. They would often sneak her scoop of rocky road when their manager wasn’t there to help her get through the day. In return, she would offer a free nail appointment. It wasn’t much but Robin did take her up on the offer once. 
She would like to say they were friends by that point, though they haven’t really talked since the summer. When you spend every day so close to people, it's easy to bond. But when you take that away, it can test the strength of the relationships you’ve built. 
“Looking for anything in particular?” Steve asked, slumping further into the shelf. She shook her head, looking back at all the tapes. “How about romance? We just got in Lady Jane.”
“No,” she responded quickly. “No, romance.”
Nodding, he stood up straight, adjusting his green vest. “Okay, no romance, got it. Well…” he trailed off, rounding a corner.
He didn’t even check if she was following. She was; walking closely behind him as he searched for another film. Finally, he eyes fell on one, picking it up and pressing it against his chest. Both his hands encapsulated the case, laying flatly on the top and bottom. 
“What about Clue? It’s a murder mystery; based off the game.” The words curled up at the end, almost like an invitation to keep pushing.
Y/n scrunched her face, her mouth closing to a thin line. “Getting closer.”
A smile crept on his face. “Okay then, I think I know just the-”
Before he could finish, Robin yelled from across the store, “Hey Dingus! Check this out.”
Sighing, he put down the tape, leaning out of the shelves to see what she needed. “Robs, I’m with a customer,” he told her.
Finally, she turned to look at them, pulling her eyes away from the tv that hung near the reception desk in the middle of the room. “Oh shit sorry- oh it’s just Y/n. Both of you come on!”
“Sorry about this-” Steve told her, walking out of the row of tapes.
Y/n waved a hand to stop him. “It’s okay, I’m not in dire need of a movie right now.”
Chuckling, he looked down at his feet as they approached his co-worker. The static sound of the TV grew as they focused on the reporter's words. 
“This just in, a local Hawkins student found murdered at Forest Hills Trailer Park. The police have yet to reveal the identity of the student…”
“Oh shit,” Y/n mumbled to herself. Steve gave a hum of acknowledgment, tilting his head toward her. “That’s where Eddie lives.”
His head whipped over to look at her. “You know Munson?” he asked.
“Yeah, he used to sell me weed in high school. We’d smoke under the bleachers sometimes.” Taking a minute longer to stare at the new broadcast, she finally looked over at a very surprised Steve Harrington. His eyebrows were raised, eyes wide and not closing. “What? Surprised I know him?”
“I mean yeah but…didn’t take you for a smoker.”
She rolled her eyes. “Like you didn’t smoke too. I saw those cigarettes you used to hide on your breaks.”
“Yeah but I didn’t buy them from Eddie Munson.”
“Does that really matter?”
He opened his mouth to respond but the bell of the store dinged loudly, followed by the voice of a young teen. “Hey Steve!”
Y/n watched as he closed his eyes, the muscles of his face contorting into a grimace. Turning, he shouted “What?”
Two young teens came running in, out of breath from whatever journey it took to get there. The one that yelled was a boy with curly hair muffled by a snapback hat. He had on some weird shirt with a devil covered by a patterned button down left open. The other was a girl. A redhead that was dressed relatively normal compared to her friend. 
“How many phones do you have?” the boy asked, leaning over the front desk. 
“Dustin, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” 
Ignoring the response, he repeated his question. “I don’t care about your flirting, I asked how many phones you have!”
Walking up behind Y/n and Steve, Robin joined the conversation. “Three if you count the phone in the back,” she said.
The two freshmen looked at each other, some sort of silent conversation going on. “That could work,” the girl finally said. 
Before anyone could protest, Dustin threw his bag over the counter, jumping over to follow it. There were immediate protests from Steve as the young kid took helm of the computer, the redhead running around the side to join him. 
“Woah woah woah!” Steve shouted.
“No time for dilly dallying, we have a man to track down!” 
As the boys got into a somewhat heated argument, Y/n figured she wouldn’t be getting a movie any time soon. Leaning over to Robin, she whispered, “I’ll just come back later.”
The girl flashed her sympathetic look. “Are you sure? I could help you out-”
“-It’s all good, you’ve got your hands full.”
“Max, just explain to them what’s going on I’ve got this!” Dustin called out. 
“Okay, Jesus, I was getting to that!” the girl responded. 
Y/n turned, making her way out from behind the counter and toward the front door empty handed. She tried not to eavesdrop but it was hard with only them in the store.
“We need to find Eddie Munson,” Max began.
She could hear Steve groan. “Everybody with this Eddie Munson shit!”
“You’re just mad about me having an older male friend,” Dustin chimed in.
“No, I don’t, but I do have a problem with you bringing it up every five seconds.”
“I do not bring him up-”
“-Oh you so do.”
“Guys stop!” Max screamed at them. “They think Eddie killed Chrissy.”
“Chrissy Cunningham? The cheerleader? She’s the one they found dead?!” Robin added.
Y/n felt her breath hitch as she grabbed the handle on the front door. She wanted to walk out, to ignore the sad news which seemed to be a constant now in their town. But something urged her to keep listening.
“Yeah,” Max continued. “But he didn’t do it. He ran from his house last night and we just need to find where he is.”
Eddie was in trouble? Why was he with Chrissy Cunningham? Thoughts raced through Y/n’s mind at a rapid pace, but not one of them was to push the door and leave. Something in her felt like she needed to help. She could have a lead, she be useful to them.
Not deliberating any further, she turned around. “I might know where he is,” she announced. 
The four teens fell silent, turning to look at her. “You do?” Max asked. 
Dustin, swiveling in his chair and asked, “I’m sorry, who are you?”
Y/n opened her mouth to respond but found she didn’t know what to say. Who was she to them? Was she a friend? They’ve barely spoken in months. They weren’t co-workers, never working in the same place before if you don’t count the mall as a whole. 
Thankfully, Steve answered for her. “She’s a friend. Dustin, Max, this is Y/n.”
Max gave a small wave which she returned, however, Dustin got right to the point. “You know where Eddie is?”
She nodded. “Maybe. I know where he hangs out. If this is serious he probably went to Rick’s place.”
“Rick?”
“Reefer Rick? It’s where Eddie gets his supply from,” she clarified. 
“Do you know where this Reefer Rick lives?” Robin asked.
Y/n nodded. “Okay then!” Dustin announced, getting up from his stool. “Let’s go.”
“What now?” Steve protested. “This is our busiest day, we can't just leave!”
“Steve!” Max shouted at him. “This could be a code red.”
Y/n frowned at the girl's words. Code red? What was a code red? It was clear Steve understood. His demeanor changed, shoulders slumping back as his gaze softened. Looking over at Robin first she only gave a nod. Finally, he looked at Y/n. “Are you okay to show us where he lives?”
“Y-yeah. I’m off for the rest of the day so…”
“Perfect!” Dustin shouted. “Then let’s get going!”
🎬🎬🎬
By the time they were approaching Reefer Rick’s house it was already dark out. The sun had set a while ago, almost blinding her in the back seat of Steve’s car. He had apologized for the seating arrangement when they got in. She was sandwiched between the two freshmen in the back who wouldn’t stop asking her questions on how she was involved.
As she told Steve to turn left down Rick’s street, Dustin asked another question. “Are you Eddie’s soulmate?”
“What? No!” She responded immediately. “We’re just friends and barely at that. He was my dealer.”
“How do you know you aren’t soulmates?” Max asked.
Y/n paused for a moment before responding simply with, “Cause I just know.”
Every time she told people her soulmate died, they would give her sympathetic apologies. It made her sick to her stomach. She was already trying to grapple with the idea of being alone without ever meeting them. She didn’t need the weight of other people’s condolences on her shoulders. Luckily, they turned into the driveway before anyone could ask further questions. 
Everyone piled out of the car and Y/n finally felt like she could breathe. She stepped into the crips night air, breathing in like she had gone a week without oxygen. It was so refreshing, a new wave of energy washing over her. 
“I don’t see anyone inside,” Robin said, peering into the dark window near the front door. 
“What about there?” Steve asked, pointing over to the boat house. “You think it’s open?”
Max shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”
Y/n silently followed the four teens who clearly had more experience with this code red business than her. She wondered what it could be. Up until her junior year of high school, nothing strange had ever occurred in Hawkins. It was just a small, boring town that people were barely aware of. But now… she didn’t know what it was now. 
The boat house was unlocked, much to everyone’s surprise, and they all slowly stepped inside. The only light came from the lamp outside which was now seeping through the cracks of the open door.
Quickly, Dustin dug through his bag pulling out multiple flashlights and handing them out. Everyone took one without question, beginning to search around the small room. He held one out for Y/n.
Hesitantly, she took it. “Do you always carry around this many flashlights?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he responded, like it was a normal day for him, walking away he began his search too. 
“Sorry about him,” Steve said, coming up behind her. “Sometimes he doesn’t remember that not everyone has done the things that we’ve done.”
Her head tilted at his words. “And what exactly have you done?” 
Chuckling, he responded, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He picked up an oar, prodding at the tarp covering the boat.
Stepping closer to him, she responded, “Try me.” 
His breath hitched as his eyes flickered down to the small space in between them. She looked down too, noticing how close she had stepped to him. Heat rose to her cheeks as she peered back up at him, his chocolate brown eyes staring back. 
Y/n liked to think they had a moment, one where she forgot her soulmate was dead. One where there was still the thrilling possibility he might be her match. 
But before she could remind herself of the truth, she was slammed onto the floor, a figure rising from underneath the tarp. There were shouts and screams as something thudded against the wall. Still trying to find her bearings, she felt a hand wrap around her arm.
 “Are you okay?” Robin asked, pulling her to her feet. 
“Yeah,” she said, letting out of breath. Her throat tingled with a sensation she couldn’t quite palace, a hand coming up to graze her neck. “I-I think so.”
“Eddie, he's not a bad guy!” Dustin yelled. 
Y/n and Robin’s attention was brought back to the situation currently at hand. It was Eddie who emerged from the boat, holding a switchblade to Steve’s throat in shock. Steve scurried from underneath the weapon, trying to breath out a response. 
“We’re here to help!” Dustin continued, “This is Max, my friend who never wants to play DND.” Max gave a small wave. “And you know Robin, from band right? She plays the trumpet.”
Robin brought up her hands, mimicking a trumpet motion before regretting her decision and shaking her wrists. 
“A-and Y/n!” he said, motioning to her in the very back. “You know Y/n right?”
Eddie’s eyes scanned over to her, a sense of recognition in his features. “D-Y/n?” he said in a low grumble.
“Eddie, remember me? We used to smoke under the-”
“I-I remember,” he interrupted, his voice softer than before. Slowly, out of instinct or not, the knife began to lower, a click sounding as it flipped back closed. 
Y/n couldn’t stop herself from rushing forward, engulfing him in a hug. His hands tightened around her waist, squeezing her harder than probably intended. “Are you okay? We saw the news.”
She helped him sit back down on an overturned bucket, looking over at her shoulder to make sure Steve was okay. He was, his breaths becoming more regular and Robin soothed his back. 
“I didn’t know where else to go…” Eddie told her, trailing off as he instinctively played with the rings on his fingers.
“Well you’re okay now, got it?” He gave a small nod. “Just tell us what happened.”
“Y-you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
The words echoed through her head, the same words Steve had told her just moments before. What had she gotten herself into?
“Try us,” Max spoke out. 
He glanced at her for a moment, then around the room and everyone's eyes were suddenly on him. 
“Chrissy came to me after school yesterday, wanting to try some of my supply. Then, she tripped over a log and scraped her knee….she…. She was my soulmate.” 
He stopped for a moment, gaging the small reactions throughout the room. “Trust me, I couldn’t believe it either. We talked a little, she wanted to try some stronger stuff so I took her back to my place after the game. 
I was searching in my room for it but when I came out she was…it was like she wasn’t there? Her eyes were blank and she wasn’t responding to anything I was saying. The lights began to flicker all around us and she….she started to float. Shit, like right out of a horror movie ya know? And then… a-and then…fuck.” 
He began to stutter, whatever happened next clearly frightening him more than what he had already told them. Y/n leaned forward, rubbing a hand on top of his. 
“It’s okay,” she soothed. “What happened next?”
Looking up at her, he found the strength to continue. “H-her back slammed into the roof and her limbs…her limbs starting to break in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Then her jaw, and then her eyes…I ran out of there after she fell to the ground.”
The room was silent, nothing but the small waves echoing throughout the room. Y/n was trying to process what he was saying. Trying to find a logical explanation for what Eddie had saw.
“You all think I’m crazy,” he said, curling back. 
“No, we don’t,” Y/n said first. “But there has to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. I mean, maybe she was-”
“-there is,” Dustin interrupted her. She turned back to look at him. “W-what I’m about to tell you guys, might be… a little difficult to take.”
“Okay,” Y/n said, her attention fully on him. 
“You know how people say that Hawkins is cursed? Well, they’re not that far off…There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins.”
“B-beneath Haw- What are you talking about?” Y/n asked, confused.
“This world is like ours, but darker, and sometimes it bleeds into ours.”
“What like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked. 
Max let out a heavy sigh, “There are somethings worse than ghosts…”
🎬🎬🎬
The last day and a half had been utter chaos. Two more people were dead and it’s all thanks to this Vecna creature - Y/n still didn’t fully understand it. 
They teamed up with even more people on their trek to Lover’s Lake and had another awkward conversation as to why Y/n was there. She even got to properly meet Steve’s ex girlfriend which was…interesting to say the least.
As she made her way through the woods, she felt someone walk up next to her. It was Max, poor Max who had been playing Kate Bush in her headphones ever since they went to the cemetery.
Y/n gave her a smile. “How are you holding up?” she asked. 
The young girl shrugged. “As good as I can be I guess…”
“That’s good…” 
They fell into a silent walk, Dustin leading the group ahead with some of the older teens lagging behind. “Can I ask you something?” Max said suddenly.
“Yeah sure, what’s up?”
“How do you know Steve? He said you’re friends but I thought we were his only friends.”
“Oh…well, we went to high school together,” Y/n began but changed her mind. “But we didn’t really know each other. I worked across from him and Robin in the mall. Kind of became work buddies.”
Max nodded along. “Is he your soulmate?”
She whipped her head toward her. “What’s with you guys and my soulmate?”
“Just curious,” she mumbled, stepping over a log. 
“No, he’s not my soulmate…” 
“Did you ask him?” Y/n shook her head. “Then how do you know it’s not him? Cause like statistically you should’ve found them by now. I mean, I have- had Lucas…I’m not sure he believes in all this soulmate stuff anymore.”
She looked up in the distance where her ex boyfriend was walking with Dustin. Their eyes were glued to the compass in Dustin’s hand. 
Y/n followed her gaze to the boys, mumbling, “I’m not sure I do either.” 
Max furrowed her brows looking back at her. She debated leaving it at that. So many people had asked about her soulmate and every time she refused to discuss the subject further. But this felt different, being with these people, she felt like she could trust them. 
 “My soulmates’ dead,” she blurted out.
It took a moment for Max to think of a response. “Oh…how do you know?”
“The night of the mall fire…I felt this intense pain, worse than I’ve ever felt before and then…” she shrugged. “Nothing. All those years of bruises and cuts gone in an instant…I haven’t felt anything since that night so, I figured they died in the fire.”
She looked next to her, watching as Max interpreted the information. She couldn’t remember the last person  she told about her soulmate. So many sorries and my condolences…Max was staying quiet, it was unlike any reaction she had seen. Something deeper was going on.
“You okay over there?” she asked.
“It…it wasn’t a mall fire…” Max said in almost a whisper.
Y/n felt her heart drop. “What?”
“It wasn’t a fire…it was the-” Max stopped herself, trying to rephrase. “Last year, one of the monsters came out of the Upside Down. It absorbed a bunch of people to get bigger and headed to the mall. We all fought it there.”
“So the pain I was feeling-”
“Was probably them being absorbed into the Mind Flayer… I’m sorry Y/n. If we stopped it the first time-”
“Hey don’t do that,” she interrupted, placing a hand on the girl's arm. They both stopped, facing each other. “It’s not your fault. It’s not any of your faults. I’ll find someone someday. It might not be my soulmate but I’ll still be happy....”
Max stared at her, not fully convinced. “I’ll be fine, trust me.” Ahead of them, the younger friends started giggling. “Go with your friends and listen to Kate Bush.”
She gave her a smile, urging the redhead to not worry about it anymore. The girl did so, walking off to join the conversation. It wasn’t long before another person took her place next to Y/n.
“Girl problems?” Steve asked, falling into the rhythm of her walking.
She rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah we were talking about our periods.” His eyes widened, trying not to comment on the topic. “Oh my god I was joking.”
“Oh,” he said, letting out a long breath. “Okay good I didn’t know what to say.”
Y/n chuckled at his awkwardness. When did he become like this? The Steve she saw in school was a smooth talker. A person who knew how to make everyone fall in love with him. But now, as they were searching for a multi-dimensional gate surrounded by freshmen…it gave him some humility.
“She was asking me about my soulmate again,” Y/n informed him.
Nodding, he asked, “So, about your soulmate…have you found them yet?”
“No, uh…Max was telling me about the Mind Flayer last year? Pretty sure they died during all of that.”
“Oh…” Steve fell silent, not knowing how to react. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, not your fault. I’ve made my peace with it.”
She looked over to him, trying to reassure him that the party’s antics weren’t the cause of her soulmate’s demise. But as she did so, she missed a root sticking out of the ground. Wobbling forward, she felt as Steve reached out, wrapping his arms around her torso. He pulled her up against him, trying quickly to help her regain her balance.
Breathlessly, she looked back up at him and said, “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he responded, backing up slightly as he became aware of how close they had gotten. His hands lingered on her back, not too eager to let go. Slowly, she began to step away, pulling both of them back to reality. 
“So…do you have a soulmate? - I mean have you found them?” She fell back into a slow walking pace, Steve still staying close.
“No, not yet. My soulmate doesn’t really feel a lot of pain so it’s been hard to pinpoint who it is. The occasional paper cut doesn’t really help ya know?” Y/n nodded in agreement. “I thought it was Nancy at first… but then she and Jonathan cut their hands to fight the Demogorgon and found each other so, clearly I was wrong.”
“Oh…well that’s-”
“-yeah…so, still looking,” he said, trying to put optimism in his tone. It was clear he didn’t believe it.
As they approached the edge of the lake, Nancy and Robin working to grab a boat, she turned to him.
“I hope you find your soulmate Steve,” she said sincerely. “You deserve someone.”
A small smile formed on his lips and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down to shake it away. “T-thanks.”
“Alright dingus, come on!” Shouted Robin. 
The two of them looked over to see Nancy and Eddie already on the boat, Robin holding out her hand for the two teens. 
Putting an arm out, Steve said, “Lady’s first.”
Smiling, Y/n grabbed Robin’s arm, tumbling into the boat where Eddie helped her down. She watched as Steve climbed on, yelling at Dustin for them to stay on shore before they began to float out onto the water.  
Nancy was quick to take control of the oars, though no matter how much stability to applied, the boat still rocked. Y/n could feel her brain begin to get fuzzy, the constant movement making her slightly sick. 
“You okay?” Eddie asked, placing a hand on her arm. 
Nodding, she tried to steady herself. “Yeah…a little too late to ask that question.”
“Oh my god what are you doing?” Robin asked, pulling the two of them out of their conversation.
Confused, Y/n looked up to see Steve tossing off his yellow sweater. Someone shined a flashlight up at him and she could clearly see the mess of curls across his chest. He was fit, but not in an overly ripped kind of way. More like someone who was born with a fast metabolism and it took a lot of effort for her not to stare. 
“What are you doing?” Nancy asked.
Steve ran a hand through his hair, leaning over the side of the boat. “Well someone has to check to see if that thing is down there.”
“Just-” Eddie began, reaching down to put a flashlight in a plastic bag, handing it to him. “Here.”
He thanked him quickly, ready to dive into the water when Y/n had the sudden urge to reach out to him. “Wait,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. He turned back, catching her eyes. “Be careful, okay? If you don’t see anything, come right back up.”
“Don’t worry I will,” he reassured her before turning and diving under.
The boat shook as he left and Robin hurled herself toward Nancy in an effort to not get wet. Slowly, as it began to settle, they waited. There was a tightness in her chest, a tension that wouldn’t go away until she knew Steve was okay.
Almost a minute and a had passed and she was growing more anxious. 
“Where is he?” she asked no one in particular. 
“He should have come up by now,” Nancy said, checking her watch.
“That’s it I’m going after-”
Steve bursted out of the water before she could finish her sentence. Gasping for breath, he reached for the side of the boat. Feeling breathless as well Y/n reached forward, guiding him to a steady grip.
“It’s down there alright,” he said.
Eddie sighed in relief, “Okay then dude get back up here.”
“Okay,” he said as Y/n began to pull him up. 
Abruptly, she stopped. There was some feeling, something tugging at her and she could tell Steve felt so too. “What are you waiting for?” Robin exclaimed.
“I-I don’t know,” Y/n began. “Steve, we have to hurry.”
“Yeah, oka-”
Before their very eyes, Steve was pulled under water, his grasp quickly leaving hers. Everyone was calling out to him, but it all felt like a distant echo as Y/n dove in after him. It was so sudden she didn’t even remember making the decision as she swam down, trying to grab a hold of her friend.
The water was making her vision blurry but she could see the outline of him being pulled further and further toward a giant red hole at the bottom of the ocean. She kept pushing through the water with all her might as she saw him disappear through the gate. Determination kept her going, knowing that wherever Steve went, she’d be going after him.
She was almost there, the slimy vines just out of reach as a pain seared through her neck. She curled up, instinctively, feeling something strong closing her air pipe. Reaching her hands out, she tried to pull it away but there was nothing there. Nothing but skin touched her fingertips as she tried to relieve herself of the pain. 
Was her soulmate alive? Was this their doing?
Then, something sharp attacked her side. It felt like something was being ripped out of her, seeking teeth into both her sides. She cried out under the water, her supply of oxygen decreasing faster by the second. 
She tried to swim forward, to make it the extra inch to the gate but the pain made her writhe, floating aimlessly in the lake. Is this how she was going to die? At the hands of her soulmate under Lover’s Lake?
In her peripheral vision, she saw something pass her. Then, arms wrapped around her waist, stinging as they collided with the pain. They pulled her down, pushing her until she was taken in by the current of the gate. 
Y/n felt as she was flipped upside down, finding herself tumbling toward a hard surface. Air finally reentered her lungs, just enough through the choking feeling that still clawed at her throat. The pain in her sides hadn’t stopped either, forcing her to roll on her knees. 
Someone knelt next to her, a hand placed on her back. “Y/n, woah, are you okay? What’s happening?”
“Munson, we need help over here?” Nancy yelled.
“Give me a second we have another problem going on!”
Y/n stretched her neck as much as she could to see where Nancy was calling from. A few feet away, lying on the floor in pain was Steve Harrington. There was some bat-like creature chewing into his side as Robin tried to swat it away. Nancy was working on another one, its tail roped around Steve’s neck.
She could barely put two thoughts together as pain soared through her. But what she could see was that her friend was in pain, in the same spots her soulmate was injured in. Whatever strength she had left was depleted as she rolled onto her back.
“Y/n, honey, you gotta tell me what to do? What happened?” Eddie shouted at her.
Through her raggedy breaths she managed to say, “H-help them.”
“What?” he asked, confused.
“Go!”
With one deep breath he stood up looking around him. Grabbing an oar, he ran towards his friend. “Wheeler! Try this!”
Tossing the wooden paddle, Nancy caught it with ease. She took it with both hands, snapping it over her knee as using the now shard wood to stab into the bat on Steve’s neck. It collapsed on impact, loosening its grip around his throat. 
As Steve gasped for air across the deserted lake, Y/n did too. Eddie was the only one who clocked the similarity, giving her a strange look as she sat up, letting all the air she could enter her lungs. 
Turning back to the group, he helped the girls grab the other two bats, pulling them out of Steve’s abdomen. Sudden energy surged through Y/n as the pains in her sides began to subside. She looked up to the group fighting off the remaining bats. She knew what all this meant. What it meant about her and him.
But for now, it could wait. She ran, helping take down the rest of the bats swarming around them. Nancy and Robin made quick work of one while Eddie and her grabbed the other. They ran in opposite directions, ripping it in half. As her piece of the creature fell to the floor, she looked back up, ready to help with the next one. But there was only one left and it didn’t look like Steve needed any help.
He slammed it into the ground over and over again, the guts of the creature spilling like candy out of a piñata. Using his teeth, he ripped off the head, letting its decapitated body fall to the ground. Nancy and Robin were quick to run to his sides, giving him support to lean on as he began to collapse.
Y/n tried to move toward him too, finding herself tripping over her own feet. She definitely hadn’t recovered from almost drowning, still feeling the tingle of water stuck in her esophagus. Eddie was quick to catch her. “Hey, I’m here, don’t worry,” he soothed.
“Guys,” Nancy called out. “We gotta move.” Pointing behind them, they watched as a giant swarm of bats was heading straight toward them.
Eddie leaned into Y/n’s side. “Can you walk?” She nodded. “Okay, let’s get going.”
Everyone was right when they said the Upside Down was an exact replica of Hawkins. You know, just a little dirtier and full of alien creatures.
They were able to find Skull Rock in a reasonable amount of time, using it as a stopping point to patch up everyone’s wounds. Though, most of the patching would go towards Steve who was still bleeding from his stomach. 
Nancy helped lean him against a rock, using part of her shirt to make a bandage since he dove in shirtless. Meanwhile Eddie helped her sit down on the one log they could find with no vines wrapping around it while Robin paced between all of them.
She lifted her shirt up carefully to find a very bruised stomach. Soulmate marks couldn’t cut as deep as the real one but they did always leave something behind. She glanced up at Steve, wounds matching the placement of her injuries. 
“You have to tell him,” Eddie said quietly.
Y/n pulled her shirt back down. “Not now.”
“We might all die here. I think now is as good as time as any.”
“I thought my soulmate was dead,” she mumbled, looking down at the ground still in shock. “And this whole time he’s been in the back of my algebra class. Working across from me at the mall…”
Eddie pulled her attention back to the present. “Listen, Chrissy died less than 24 hours after we found out. I didn’t get time, just make sure you do.”
She looked up to meet his gaze. It was softer than she was used to seeing him. He was always so stern, so broody. These doe eyes suited him. 
“I will,” she told him. “Let’s just get out of here first.”
🎬🎬🎬
Poor Robin. Poor, poor Robin. 
They had been walking through the army surplus store, gathering supplies to trek back to the upside down when they stumbled upon Vickie Sullivan. 
More specifically, Vickie Sullivan and her boyfriend. 
Robin had gone back to the trailer before Y/n could even protest, telling her it probably wasn’t her soulmate. Loads of people dated before finding their other half. But she wouldn’t listen. 
“She just needs some time,” Steve said, picking up another gallon of gasoline. 
“Yeah, I know…” she responded, pushing the cart. 
With Robin gone, this was the first time they had been alone since she walked into Family Video days before. It had only been a few days but so much had changed. 
Steve loaded another gallon into the cart, and Y/n absentmindedly pushed the it again, right into his side. He stumbled forward, using the cart to balance himself. 
“I’m sorry!” She exclaimed. 
“No it’s alright. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Deep in thought?”
Steve crossed his hands, coming around to stand next to her. “Yeah, something like that… Hey, I just wanted to say thank you.”
She tilted her head. “Thank me? For what?”
“Robin told me you were the first one to dive into the lake when I went under. That was pretty heroic.”
“Oh it was nothing,” she said, leaning toward him slightly, their shoulders grazing. 
“No it wasn’t,” he insisted, turning to face her. As she looked up at him, Y/n became acutely aware of how close they were standing. “It was really brave.”
As the words left his mouth, Steve made no move to back up. She could feel his breath on her skin, see the stubble of his mustache. He looked so calm, so unlike how they had all been feeling the past few hours…If she’d let herself, she would get lost in his eyes. 
“I have to tell you something-” she began to say, before there was an interruption.
“We gotta move,” said a voice, moving closer to them. Y/n stepped away first, willing herself to look anywhere but him. Her eyes landed on Nancy. “Jason is here.”
That got them moving. Steve took the cart, taking it to the front to pay as she followed Nancy back to the trailer. Everybody else was already inside, clamoring back to the seats they had taken earlier. 
Only this time, Nancy moved to the back, motioning for her to take the driver’s side seat. She did so, confused, before Steve came running back to them and started the car without a second to waist.
Y/n gave one last look back at Nancy who flashed her a smile of recognition. Maybe she wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions as she originally thought.
🎬🎬🎬
Being back in the Upside Down was the last place Y/n wanted to be. But if it meant stopping all of the disasters for good? She’d do anything. 
“If they get too close, go, okay? Don’t try to be the heroes,” Steve said, his attention directed at Eddie and Dustin who were staying back at the gate. 
“We will,” Dustin said, standing up straighter with pride.
Giving a nod, Steve turned back to her, Robin and Nancy, ready to begin their trek to the Creel House. They were about to leave when Eddie called out for her. She turned back, walking a foot or two to meet him halfway. 
“Tell him,” he whispered, which only made her roll her eyes. “This might be your last chance.”
“I will if we survive,” she rebutted. “Promise.”
Giving a curt nod, he backed up, letting her return to her group. “What was that about?” Robin asked.
“Nothing,” Y/n dismissed, and no one questioned her further. 
The walk to Upside Down Creel House was a lot easier when you were equipped with the right things. Thick combat boots were laced over her feet; dry clothes covering every inch of her body.  
As they approached the front door, the three girls let Steve enter first, paving a path through the vines that laced the floor. As he hoped over one, Y/n would follow, mimicking his movements. She held out a hand behind her, helping Robin and Nancy who were close to follow. The stairs proved to be more tricky then the rest, the living roots moving faster as they inched closer to Vecna. 
Steve was the first to make it up the first flight okay, helping pull Y/n, and arm wrapped around hers. Just as she was reaching for the last step, something erupted in the distance. They both paused and she could feel Nancy grab on to the bag she had thrown across her back. The sound began to soften, echoing away as a rumble took its place. Not before long the entire ground started to shake, loosening her grip.
In a series of quick thinking, Steve yanked on her arm, pulling her up the stairs to stand behind him as he reached for Nancy, then Robin. By the time shaking had subsided, all four of them were safe on the landing. Y/n took a deep breath, silently thanking that everyone was okay.
The celebration, however, was short lived. The vines reached for her ankle first, slithering up her leg until it wrapped around her waist. Another shot out of the wall, taking her wrist and pulling her flat against the surface. 
“Y/n!” Steve yelled. 
Nancy and Robin were quick to her side, already pulling at the vines as she cried out. Steve rose his axe, ready to strike down as another vine wrapped around her neck. As she gasped for air, her eyes bulging out, she saw Steve’s step falter. 
The axe dropped to the floor with a clang. Hands reached up to grab at his throat, wheezing at the sensation he was being choked. Slowly, he looked back up at Y/n, realization setting in. He fell to his knees gasping for a breath. 
“Steve?” Nancy said, looking down at him, then back up at Y/n. 
Robin looked down too, registering what was happening quicker. “Holy shit watch out!”
But she was too slow. They watched as a vine extended from the opposite wall, wrapping around him. Y/n was already in pain, already writhing from the tightness around herself. But feeling Steve’s pain on top of that…it was unlike anything she had ever experienced.
As Steve was pulled flush against the wall, his gaze never left hers. It was a silent cry for help, one look saying everything she needed to know. Did she know? How long? Get me out of these damn vines!
Nancy and Robin were soon pulled back as well, placed on either side of her. All she could do was hope her death would be swift.
She didn’t know how much time passed. It could have been minutes but with the lack of oxygen it felt like hours. Steve had closed his eyes after a period of time, the pain being too much to take. As she started to accept her fate, to fade into the darkness forever, the unthinkable happened. 
The vines let go.
She dropped to the floor, her knees scraping against the hard wood as Robin collided into her. They were all breathing heavily, trying to take in as much air as possible. After getting back to a reasonable breathing pattern, she looked up at Steve. He was staring right back, taking in deep gulps of air as they all slowly stood up. 
There was no mention of what happened. No acknowledgment that the pair of soulmates had finally found each other after so many years of waiting. Just a simple nod before continuing up the stairs. 
🎬🎬🎬
It wasn’t until much later, that they spoke again. After they killed Vecna, after the silent walk back to the gate. After Eddie and Dustin helped everyone climb back through. 
Y/n was about to walk into the trailer, following close behind with tired feet and too much dirt on her face when Steve grabbed her hand. 
She turned back to face him, already knowing what this was about.
“We can talk after we get through the gate okay?” she told him.
“No, I-I can’t wait, just…” He pulled her to the side, out of earshot from a certain young teen. “Did you know? Have you always known?”
“Not until you got attacked by those bats,” she replied softly. “I told you, I thought my soulmate died.”
“If this what you were trying to talk to me about in the army store?”
She nodded. “You have a lot of explaining to do. I’ve gotten punched a lot.”
He chuckled, head drooping down for a moment. “Well, we got all the time in the world now.”
“Are you mad?”
Picking his head back up, he scrunched his brows. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”
“That it’s me…listen, not all soulmates stay together. If you don’t like me like that then-” 
He brought his hands up swiftly, cupping her cheeks. They were warm under his callous touch, so soft and gentle but it still sucked all the breath from her.
He spoke slowly, finding the words as they tumbled out of his mouth. “I’ve…wanted to kiss you since the moment you walked into Scoops last summer….So no, I’m not mad that its you.”
Y/n’s breath hitched as he said those words, his eyes never leaving hers. She blushed under the touch of his thumb, slowly, caressing her cheek as he continued to hold her close. Bringing her arms, up, she let them rest on his extended arms. For a moment, everything else faded away and she could almost forget they were standing in an alternate dimension.
He moved closer to her, barely an inch separating their camouflage-covered bodies. “Is…is this okay?” he asked, his head drooping down slightly.
And for the first time in what felt like ever, Y/n let herself be happy. “Yes,” she responded. “It’s more than okay.”
A smile crept of his lips as he guided them down to meet hers. His lips were soft against hers, he sensation multiplied as she felt not only her senses, but his as well. She never thought she’d get to experience this side of her life. To have someone that in such a short time of knowing her, could pledge their loyalty as her partner in life.
His breath was heavy in her mouth as he let out a groan. He let his arms drift from her cheeks down her shoulders and wrap around her waist. Being held in his arms, the carefulness of his touch - it felt like heroin. 
Y/n reached up, letting her fingers get lost in his hair as he changed his angle, pressing them closer than she thought was possible. His grip tightened on her waist, pressing into a curve that made her giggle in delight.
He pulled back slightly, letting his eyes drift over her figure. She looked back at him, not hiding her smile as she relished in how flushed she had made him.
“What?” he asked, surprised by the sudden our burst of laughter.
“Nothing,” she replied, looking down for a moment to gain her composure. “Just a little ticklish.”
He rested he forehead against hers, mouth ghosting over hers at the temptation of kissing again. “I really like kissing you.”
Her smile returned. “I like kissing you two.”
Before either of them could lean back in for another kiss, Eddie’s voice rang out, echoing as the trailer door opened with flourish.
“How can you two spend another second in this shit hole-“ he paused when he saw them. 
Y/n jumped at the noise, placing a hand on Steve’s chest as he instinctively an arm around her. Realizing it was just Eddie, she let herself relax in his touch with a sigh.
“Oh…” Eddie began again, drawing a logical conclusion. “As happy as I am for you two lovebirds, those bats could comeback any minute.”
“Alright, Munson, we’re coming,” Steve said, annoyed at the interruption - even though he was right.
“Good, cause we don’t need any upside down babies anytime soon!” 
Eddie sprinted back inside, knowing if he stuck around longer, he would get both of their wraths. “Munson I swear to god!” Steve yelled leaving her embrace to run after him.
He swung the door wide open to reveal their friend already climbing up the rope. Eddie gave a salute as he let gravity do it’s work, pulling him through. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at Steve’s sudden urge to protect her, though they both knew Eddie could do no real harm. 
“You ready?” Steve said, bringing her attention back to him. She lifted her head to see him extended his hand to her.
With a nod, she took it, ready to start the next chapter of her life.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Soap on the escort mission with Cypher to her temporary base: they're both given rooms, but he tricks her into thinking they were only given one so they only have one shower and bed. He gets her into sleeping in the same bed, copping a feel and cuddling her so tight it feels like he's suffocating her
Oh my god yes but also this sent me off the deep end, sorry.
18+ mdni / soap x cypher (fem reader) / dark and twisty themes
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First of all, the entire trip is nauseating. You weren’t given much notice. You’ve never ridden in a helicopter before, and Sergeant MacTavish has to show you how to buckle the straps, knuckles brushing along the tops of your thighs as he clips you in. You’re way outside of your comfort zone. You’re so off kilter, more changes, adjustments to your routines, more strangers. When you get to the outpost, it’s even worse. The systems are rudimentary. You can work with anything, because you’re good, but harvesting the data that Laswell has tasked you with is going to take longer than you’d like. The group you’re with is… small, as well, just you, Sergeant MacTavish, and Sergeant Garrick, who confidently ignores you unless you speak directly to him.
All of this piles and piles on top of you until you’re practically having a nervous breakdown on the first day. Nothing goes right, no one at the outpost is kind, and they all stare at you as you work, like you’re some kind of freak. You’re pretty sure you even hear someone make a joke about you under their breath, something cruel, something that sounds like the things kids used to call you in school. Awful, isolating things, things that always made you feel more alone than you already did. It picks at you, picking and picking, and then you break.
You run into Sergeant MacTavish in the hall, who stops you, alarmed. You try to tell him you need to go to your room, that you need some time to decompress and sit in the dark, but you can't get the words right, they come out messy and mixed up, and you get stuck on a few, repeating them more than once, embarrassment simultaneously trying to melt you into the floor. You’re ripping at the skin on your fingers, digging into the cuticles, trying to keep a lid on yourself when he informs you that the outpost is over occupied, and you’ll be bunking with him.
After the initial shock, he herds you with efficiency to the room, firm hand on your shoulder blade, and you’re surprised at how well the touch grounds you, closing your eyes, sinking into it, listening to the sounds around you, his breathing, the scratch of a door handle, a lock clicking closed.
"Keep 'em closed." He coos, and the command relaxes you. You like the dark, it comforts you, and you think he knows, because the lights never flick on, even though the room is nearly pitch, only one little window in a concrete box, the standard issue. When you don't respond, he hums, pulling you back into the warmth of his body. "Do ye need a lay down?" He murmurs into your hair, petting over your skin, under the neck of your shirt-jacket combo, and you nod, fingers still picking at your skin until his hands overtake them, separating them by force. "Words, sweet Cy."
"Yes, sir." You croak, and he rewards you, in a way, with his arm across your chest, pressing you harder against his front, his chest, stomach and waist, the pressure working like a tea kettle that's boiling, letting off steam.
"Good. That's good, bonnie. Let's get ye comfortable then." He works your clothes, unbuttoning your jacket, your pants. He lays you on your back, eyes still closed, pulling your boots off, divesting you of everything but your underwear, folding your feet onto the mattress together so your knees are bent, and then laid to the side, outwards. You let him move you, shift you around like a doll, unable to protest. The words just won't come out, half afraid you'll earn yourself a punishment, and half afraid he'll stop whatever he's doing right now. You don't want this, do you? Don't you? A hot mouth washes over the inside of your thigh, thumb pulling your panties to the side to expose your cunt, and he clucks his tongue. "Ye need a shave, wee sweet." Oh my god. Oh my god? Your cheeks burn, entire body doused in gasoline and then lit on fire with shame. "Dinnae worry, we wonae be doin' it tonight." His mouth is closer now, you can feel it, the thorned silk of his stubbled cheek against your leg, nose nudging into the curls between your legs. Your heart thumps inside your chest at the first contact of his tongue to your clit, and even with your eyes closed, you think you can see the moon, the sun, the fucking stars.
"Fffuuck." You moan, unable to keep yourself quiet, and he brushes his calculated touch back and forth at the perfect rate and speed, pad of his thumb rubbing soft circles into the flesh of your thighs at the same time, pressing them wider and wider, giving him more and more access to your weeping pussy.
"My sweet Cy." He breathes into your body, flicking around your clit, across it, electrical pulses spreading up through your belly. "Ye jus' need someone to help ye. Take care of ye and this bonnie pussy, aye? Treat it nice." He's working you over so well, like an expert on your body, pushing and pulling you towards the cliff, and you writhe on the bed, the burn spreading, shoving your too busy brain and too busy thoughts slowing slipping away with every second.
"Yeah." You pant, dumb. What? What are you saying?
"Want ye to come for me, baby." His voice goes serious, mouth pulling away a fraction, and you whine a little, confused. "But ye need to be good, and ask. Ask yer Sergeant for permission."
"S-s-sir. Can- Can I-" You struggle with it, brain overloaded, floating away on a cloud, and he smacks his palm against the flesh of your ass, from the side.
"Try again."
"Sir. Please. Pleeease. Can I- I come?"
"Aye, wee genius. Come for me, let me see it." It only takes a few more seconds, long strokes of mouth and tongue against you and then you're bursting into stardust, wild and fast orgasm slamming into you, as he coos to you about how good ye are, how ye wonae need anyone else now, he'll take care of everything, anything, how sweet, and your brain glitches trying to piece together his meaning until you're turning to putty, sinking deeper into the mattress under the aftershocks.
Later, not long after, he folds you into bed fully, nestled under the covers in the dark. He slides in behind you, blazing heat of his body against yours, hard cock against your ass in his boxers, and you gasp, squirming, trying to shift away until he tightens his grip, smothering you still, arms locking around you too tightly, and soothing you with calm touch in all the right spots until you're drifting off into sleep.
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Hey! So I really liked your child + overlords, and I’ve been watching too many horror movies lately, so I was thinking; what if a kid like Samhain (Sam from “Trick r Treat”) was the kid.
He’s not even an overlord but how would they be with him when he clearly likes them, he shares candy with them, follows them around, and likes to cozy up with them. (especially since he’s as old as hallow’s eve itself and still kinda acts like a child, but never had a caretaker or someone to consider family) But when someone tries to hurt them, Sam does something super horrific to their attacker that would even creep Alastor out? But then he goes back to the lovable Sam that they know but what’s their reactions?
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A/n: I haven’t watched Trick or Treat, so I based off a few clips I watched. Also by attacked them, I assume you mean the overlord? I’m so sorry if not!!! :( 
!!!not proofread!!!
Alastor: Very intrigued by you. Which, knowing Alastor is the reason he was nice to you in the first place, which spiraled into friendship. You were unnaturally cuddly. Which Alastor would usually hate, but, for some reason, he didn’t mind with you. Also, you kept giving candy? He wasn't entirely sure where you kept getting it because the hotel didn’t have any, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless. One day both of you were going for an evening stroll. Until some, to put it frankly, idiot, attacked Alastor. Well tried to at least. Most people couldn’t get a scratch on him and this was no exception. What was different this time was that it was him who drew screams out of the sinner.  Instead, you, sweet, kind, you, were the one responsible.  You ended up disturbing Alastor, which is hard to do, so good job!  But after you were done you reverted back into your innocent self. Has a new reason for why he likes you after that day.
Rosie: I mentioned this in my overlord post but, mother figure. She will give you candy as well! (Just don't eat it if you're not a cannibal) She’ll make sure she always has time for you. And even when she is spending time with others she is not opposed to you tagging along. You and she had just bought some candy and were on your way back to cannibal town. You and Rosie were having a lovely conversation before someone tackled Rosie to the ground. She was able to push them off rather fast before you jumped in. Rosie was kinda shell-shocked. But despite how eldritch horror-esque the scene was, she was used to this because of Alastor. She was more surprised that it was you of all sinners. After you were done you turned back into your nice self. Tbh she doesn’t really care, she treats you the same. 
Vox: I’m going to be honest with you bestie he doesn’t like you at first. He didn’t hate you or anything, just didn’t particularly care for you. That being said, you do grow on him. He doesn’t eat the candy you give him (weirdly enough he can though. We see him eat popcorn in the final.) I don’t know bro just isn’t going to eat candy some random kid gave him from who knows where. Also, you're always in the ads. it wasn’t on purpose at first but soon he would just casually hold you in the ads, he never mentions it though. One day he’s going to film an ad and you are tagging along as you always do. When somebody tries to attack Vox with a bat, but they were stopped in their tracks by you. Vox just stared at horror and amazement as you made the sinner pay. After the horror wears off the dude is amazed. If you weren’t friends before you are now. Despite the fact that you’re, y’know, a child, he kind of uses you for scary dog privileges.
Velvette: Surprisingly accepting of you. Would probably post pics with your candy and cuddling with you. She does just straight up like you even without social media. Velvette is the youngest overlord which makes her a pretty easy target. So while it wasn't a surprise for her to get attacked how you responded was. Out of instinct, she starts recording not just to post it, I mean yes that too, but also to make sure what she was seeing was real. Which was especially needed after you went back to your cutesy self. Despite how unbelievable it was she was pretty indifferent at the end of the day. Will ask you if you can do that more for photos though.
Carmila: New mother part 2. Though admittedly she isn't one for cuddles or candy. She does take it and cuddle to make you happy. Very protective of you. You are kind and she doesn't want you to get hurt, thankfully she doesn't have to worry about you. Someone attacking the overlord who makes weapons isn't wise, but as you’ve probably learned by now, messing with someone you care about is even more stupid. She wants to stop you but also doesn't want to hurt you or get herself in the crossfire. But hey now she knows you can protect yourself. Maybe even against an exorcist without angelic metal because holy fuck. Anyway, now she trains with you.
  (A/n: Bro Tumblr fucking deleted this when I was ¾ done with it.)
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wordsbyrian · 9 months
Text
Surgeries and Surprises - Alex Morgan x Reader
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Summary: "Skater!R gets injured", "Skater!R skates in XGames", "IDK but more Skater!R"
A/n: Look, I finally wrote a thing you guys! From multiple request for more Skater!R
Despite popular belief, skateboarding is an incredibly multifaceted activity.
There are so many different disciplines: street, vert, park, freestyle, downhill (and its variation street luge), and cruising.
For the first four, there are different competitions that skaters can compete in if they are so inclined. And in all honesty, you are usually not inclined to compete, preferring the unpredictable nature of actual street skating to the polished finish of comps like Street League, XGames, and Dew Tour.
But the chance to be one of the first skateboarders to compete in the Olympics.
Well, that’s not really something you can pass up on.
Which is why you’re skating in your 5th comp of the summer.
Not the worst schedule but you’re an idiot and made the choice to also try and get clips for your next video parts in your very limited free time.
Free time, that was only made more limited by the way you were constantly flying back and forth to France to support your wife in the World Cup.
All of this is to say that your body is currently going through it.
And, unluckily, it’ll keep going through it because XGames comps are not set up in a way that plays to your strengths, with only three 45 seconds runs to string together a line and show the judges what you can do.
Luckily, on the other hand, your flight out of Minneapolis is booked for immediately after the contest ends.
Your first two timed runs went pretty well but you know you can do better which is why you saved your best stuff for your final run.
And for the most part, your final run goes pretty well until you get to your last trick with 10 seconds remaining.
You had planned it out perfectly so that you had enough time to take a breath before giving it a go. A necessary precaution for a trick you're familiar with but not a master at, a frontside flip noseslide to fakie, especially since you’re trying it down the biggest obstacle, the 4-block rail.
A little homage to Reynolds, something you’ve been doing throughout the contest season.
Except there are a couple of problems.
The first is that, unlike Reynolds, you are not a master of the frontside flip.
The other is that after a long day of being skated by just about everyone, the rail had picked up the wax from everyone’s boards, making it slicker than you need it to be for your noseslide.
Which is why you aren’t very surprised when you hit the ground. The only surprising thing is how much it hurts.
You immediately roll over and begin to stand up and take a few steps, only to drop to one knee after barely making it anywhere.
As you try to gather the strength to stand again, you’re stopped by someone placing a hand on your shoulder.
“Stay down, Y/N/N.” It’s Reynolds. “You just used your head as a basketball and your arm is fucked. They’re bringing out a stretcher.”
“I’m fine,” you say, trying to get up again. “I don’t need a stretcher.”
His hand gets firmer and you feel him pushing you to sit down properly.
“I’m serious, Y/N, I’m serious,” he says. “I’m telling you this as your friend, not as your boss. You need to go to the hospital, your shit is fucked.”
It’s at this moment that you realize how quiet the arena is.
It’s almost as if you can hear the individualized breaths of everyone in the building and honestly, it's making your head pound in a way that you wish you weren’t familiar with.
Then you see the EmTs rolling the stretcher towards you.
“Fuck dude,” you groan, resigning yourself to your fate. “Just don’t call Alex, man, she’s gonna freak out.”
“It’s too late, she already texted me she’s trying to get on the next flight out.”
“Shit.”
The entire process of letting the EMTs do their jobs is a hassle because it’s painfully obvious that they don’t deal with skateboarders often. And it takes a lot of convincing for you to even let them strap you to the backboard.
Your memory blurs out a bit after that.
The only thing you really remember besides waking up in the hospital is telling Reynolds to make sure that they don’t give you anything stronger than a Tylenol (that didn’t happen).
When you regain consciousness it’s to the sound of voices, two you recognize and one you don’t.
“She should be coming out of the anesthesia soon,” the recognizable voice says, a doctor maybe. “In addition to her mild concussion, there were some moderate tears to her deltoid that were repaired in surgery. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do about the fractures to the humeral head as we can’t cast the area.”
“She’s not going to like the sound of that,” you hear Alex say, “Not going to like that at all.”
“Unfortunately, whether she likes it or not doesn’t really matter. She needs to be in the sling for a few weeks at least,” the doctor says.
“Alright, thanks doc,” Reynolds' loud voice makes the headache you forgot you had worse. “Don’t worry Alex, she’s been through worse. Besides, the medal will make her feel better.”
“Not now Andrew.”
The door to your room opens a tiny bit and through squinted eyes, you watch as both your wife and mentor slip through the crack, closing the door behind them.
When they get close enough that you can make out the details on their faces, you stick your hand out to Alex and attempt to pull her into the hospital bed with you.
She doesn’t let you though and instead releases your hand to pull the only chair closer to the bed.
“Not so fast, hotshot,” she says, keeping her voice low.
“I told Andrew to tell you that you didn’t need to come all the way out here. You should be at home resting,” you tell her.
“And I told him that I was already on my way to the airport.”
“And I told you,” Reynolds says, frowning at you, “that I wasn’t going to risk having your wife mad at me.”
You roll your eyes at him.
“Now here’s your medal, silver’s not too bad considering you knocked yourself out,” he says, placing the item on the edge of the bed. “I’ll see you around bro.”
Both you and Alex watch as he quickly exits the room, moving sort of like his ass is on fire, and leaving the two of you alone.
The second the door fully shuts behind him you turn back to Alex and see more than her sigh deeply.
“How do you feel…”
“Why weren’t you…”
You both try to speak at the same time.
“No, you go ahead,” you tell her.
“Well, first of all, were you just about to ask how I’m feeling while you are literally laying in a hospital bed,” she asks.
You shrug somewhat sheepishly and say, “I mean you just flew halfway across the country and I know you haven’t been feeling the best lately.”
“Y/N/N, you’re ridiculous.”
“Anyway,” she says, rolling her eyes at you, “Why weren’t you wearing a helmet? You can only smash your head so many times before the damage is irreversible and I don’t like constantly being called to hospitals wondering if this time is the one.”
You take a second to let her words sink in.
She’s right.
Ever since the two of you reconnected and subsequently got together roughly 4 years ago, you’ve been injured quite a bit.
This is your 3rd concussion and 4th broken. You’ve also ruptured your achilles, cracked a few ribs, had one of your lungs collapse, and gotten over 50 stitches from various gashes gained from getting cut open skating some sketchy spots.
That’s not even counting the smaller ones that you haven’t told her about, like when you sprained your ankle visiting her during the Rio Olympics.
But admitting that Alex is right has never been something you’re great at.
So instead you just scoot over in the bed and ask her to lay down with you again.
It takes a bit of pleading but you do get her to join you and when she does, you’re quick to wiggle around into a position that's comfortable but still allows you to hold her.
With the knowledge that your current position makes it impossible for her to see your face, you can’t help but crack a joke.
“C'mon, babe, you know that helmets are for hills and hills only,” you say, finally answering her question, only to immediately recoil as she pinches you. “Okay, I’m sorry. I know I really freaked you out today and I hate that I keep forcing you to come see me in hospitals. And I…” she cuts you off.
“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” she protests, keeping her voice light. “I love you even though you seem dead set on destroying your body.”
“It’s not really on purpose,” you say, pulling her impossibly closer. “I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes when I skate it’s like an out-of-body experience. Nothing matters except how good it’s gonna feel when I roll away. I can barely even think straight when I’m on my board but that obviously means I don’t think about how my choices affect others and that’s not fair to you.”
When you finish speaking, the first thing you hear from your wife is a sigh that can only be described as annoyed.
“What,” you ask.
“You’re an idiot,” she says.”
“Babe,” your voice is indignant, and too loud even to your own ears.
“I’m sorry but you’re so dumb,” she says. “I’m not concerned because of how it affects me, I care about how it affects you. You’ve been acting strangely all summer and I don’t really want to see where this path takes you.”
Once again Alex is right.
And her pointing out your recent odd behavior, something you hadn’t noticed yourself, is like a bucket of ice water over your head.
Taking a deep breath, you nod even though she can’t see you and say, “I think I need to call my sponsor.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Unfortunately, between your concussion and having to travel back to Orlando, the call to your sponsor had to wait a few days.
And in those few days, you begin to really notice the behaviors Alex had mentioned.
Even before your injury, you were stressed and anxious but you had ignored it, believing it was tied to the comps and upcoming deadlines.
But now with those things mostly out of the way, the intensity of these feelings is familiar and you aren’t very fond of the places you ended up the last few times you felt like this.
And the isolation of being trapped at home, unable to do much more than stare at the walls and wait for Alex to get back from training, only made those feelings stronger.
When you’re finally able to make that call and the first words finally come out of your mouth, it’s as though the weight of the world comes off your shoulders.
Recovery isn’t an instant process but you do instantly feel a little better as you explain your recent behaviors that you now recognize as somewhat erratic.
And when the call ends, you have a list of dates, times, and locations so you can go to a meeting whenever you need to.
The only thing that's really left for you to do is talk to your wife when she gets home but that might be the hardest part.
So you wait, completing as many boring household tasks as you can to make the time pass more quickly.
It doesn’t really work that well because you only have one arm to work with. And you're just unlucky enough that it's your dominant hand out of commission.
You’re in the middle of unloading the dishwasher when you hear the front door open and shut.
It doesn’t take long for Alex to find you and in the back of your mind, you know that the only reason she didn’t shout your name across the house like she normally does is because of your lingering headache.
“Hey babe,” you hear her greet as you bend over to place a pot in its designated cabinet.
“Hi,” you respond, standing back up and turning to face her, only to see that she’s already taken a seat at the island. “Oh, that’s the serious conversation chair,” you note, going to lean on the counter opposite her.
“I mean it is serious but it’s nothing bad.”
“If it’s nothing bad, do you mind if I go first,” you ask, “Mine isn’t bad either but I finally got around to giving Noah a call.”
When you say that it's almost as though you can feel the energy in the room shift.
“How did that go?”
“It definitely went.”
“Are you going to elaborate or…”
Sighing deeply, you shuffle your feet, focusing on the way your socks slip over the tile.
“Apparently, when you’re really stressed and overly tired your brain chemistry changes,” you tell her, now looking up at the ceiling. “Which makes people look for things to relieve the stress, which can be a bad thing for addicts. And between the video parts, qualifiers, and flying all over the place, I haven’t actually had a chance to sit down and think, much less attend a meeting. But now, when I would’ve had a chance to, I can barely be in a room with lights on for more than 15 minutes.”
There’s a moment of silence before Alex responds and as it passes, you can feel your heart sink further and further into your stomach. This is the moment that she finally decides that being with you is far more work than it's worth.
Your downward spiral is broken by the sound of her voice.
“I guess that means that we have to come up with ways for you to handle stress when you're busy,” Alex says, “because you’re only about to get busier.”
“What? No, I’m not, the next two competitions are at the end of the month and I literally can’t skate for the next month and a half.”
“3 months,” she shoots back, “and yes you will.”
“You’re not making any sense Alex.”
Alex gets up from her seat and makes her way toward you. Before you know it, she’s reaching out for your good hand, which to this point has had a death grip on the counter behind you, not that you’ve noticed.
With a confused look on your face, you watch as she pulls your hand to rest against her stomach before covering it with both of her own.
Still confused, it takes you longer than you’d like to admit to figure out why she would do that.
It’s only when you remember the seemingly never-ending nausea Alex has been dealing with that you connect the dots.
“Oh shit.”
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mariacrow · 9 months
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Hey! Wanted to let you know I absolutely adore your writing!
Can I get a request for jealous bayverse bumblebee x reader where reader has just recently gotten a new gaming device and has stayed indoors more often since? He would absolutely miss taking them out for rides
I'd like to think he'd use clips from the song PS5 to talk about it, but that's totally up to you haha
Thank you, friend! 🌻 I’m glad you enjoy my writing 💛 here’s a gift for you 🐝
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❁ Bumblebee x reader ❁
2nd person
female reader
takes place in reader’s backyard and house
jealousy, clinginess, needy for attention
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taptaptap…
You heard someone tapping on your bedroom window while you were playing video games. You kept the curtains down for a couple of days now so the light wouldn’t distract you from the screen. You didn’t see who it was but you knew nonetheless. You were too busy having fun with your new console so you didn’t budge.
taptapTAP!
“Bee! I know it’s you!”
taptaptaptaptap…
“Stop that! You’re going to break the window!” you shouted while not getting your eyes off the screen.
You could hear him buzzing like a sad bumblebee as he once again, but this time gently, tapped your window.
He made you pause your game. Sighing in irritation, you stood up and spread the curtains. You were welcomed by the sight of Bee’s wide puppy optics and his servo on the window. He let out a sad buzz once again.
“Bee. What do you want?”
To what his optics only widened as his muzzle wobbled.
“I’m busy, can’t you see?” you said and closed the curtains again.
But oh, he’s stubborn. He won’t give up until you give him the attention he wants. He wants Y/N’s cuddles now and he’s gonna get ‘em!
It was quiet until you heard him trying to open your window from the outside.
“That ain’t gonna work, Bee!” you said while trying to concentrate on the game.
He’s smart though. He sneaked one of his wires through the window crack and unlocked it, opening it and scooting away the curtains. He peaked his head into your bedroom and happily buzzed as his antennas wriggled.
“WHA- you’re unbelievable!” you said through a chuckle. You can’t be mad at him, JUST LOOK AT HIM. HE’S ADORABLE.
“Great, you made me lose my game.”
He reached with his servo inside and grabbed your console, ripping it out from the outlet and dragging it outside.
“WHAT ARE YOU- HEY! CAREFUL, IT’S FRAGILE!” you rushed to your window to see him holding it in the air.
He crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground like an angry parent.
“Beeeee… come on man…”
“You were playing— too long!— Time for a break!” he sulked over the radio.
“I was about to! After that match!”
“You always say that!”
“Please give it back! You’re going to break it!”
He shook his helm, lifting his chin and pouting, holding it higher in the air.
“Okaaaay.. What do I need to do?”
He opened his one optic, giving you a side eye. He then leaned closer to you and tapped his cheek plate, happily buzzing. Indicating he wants a kiss.
He made you giggle, “So that’s what this is all about huh~?” you said and leaned to give him a kiss but this cheeky little bastard turned his helm in the last moment so you ended up kissing his muzzle. You didn’t mind though, you giggled as he gave a happy little dance shuffle.
He then grabbed you and yeeted your console back inside, damaging it.
“BEE!”
He laughed as he transformed and so you found yourself inside the Camaro.
“You broke it!!!”
“Nothing— Ratchet— can’t fix.” he said as he floored it, heading to the main streets, taking you out for a ride.
You couldn’t help but laugh. You slouched in your seat, “How can I possibly be mad at you?”
“I missed you…”
“I know, Bee… I’m sorry…” you rubbed the steering wheel, “It was kinda selfish… I promise I won’t be so irresponsible anymore.”
He happily buzzed and played “Sunflower” by Post Malone and Swae Lee on the radio.
“Get ready for the ride of your life, beautiful~!” he used a movie quote.
You finally realized no console or game can replace your actual loved ones. You two enjoyed each other’s company like you used to as you rode into the sunset…
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Dividers belong to @patches-1105 and @lostsozai
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kedreeva · 3 months
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on the topic of peafowl play, would/do peafowl enjoy those pet puzzle toys? would they have the patience or interest to complete 1 outside of food motivation? i don't know why but i always imagine peafowl as the brilliant but lazy types and i wonder if that headcanon of mine has any plausibility lol
I gave my peafowl one of those chicken treat puzzles (this one) which they are supposed to peck/scratch at and roll around, which drops scratch grain slowly on the ground and gives them something to do until it is empty. It's basically two yellow bowls bungee-corded together by a single cord on the inside, anchored at that little black nub. You fill one half, and then "seal" it as a ball- but it's not clipped together or anything, just bungee tension holds it together.
I set it down for Aris for the first time, and rolled it so she could see it had scratch in it that would fall out. She pecked it once, examined it for roughly 10 seconds, and then grabbed it by the little black nub, and shook the hell out of it, bursting it open and flinging scratch all over the pen. She dropped it and everyone went about their business eating the scratch.
I taught Eris how to press buttons to "speak" to me; she had a few treat buttons, a food button, a water button, and some Word word buttons like "want" and "Eris" and "yes" and "no." She used them to argue with me and make fun of me for forgetting to put water in her wet food one day.
I gave Bug toilet paper rolls with holes cut in them, stuffed with paper towels and superworms. She learned to pull the paper towel out almost immediately. She gets a bowl of fresh foods when she goes into her pen in the mornings, and it started with me walking in and coaxing or carrying her in. Now she goes and waits on the perch where I put the bowl. I give anything leftover she didn't eat to the barn crew, so when I go to collect her in the evening, Polaris and Opal are usually waiting on the table where I put the bowl.
I bring Artemis indoors to do paintings with her, and she knows the order is indoors->bath->dry off->painting+treats, so if I bring her in, and she gets a bath, and I wait too long in the drying off, she will start scolding me until we start painting.
If I let the birds out of their pens, they get free range time while I'm outside. When I call "hup hup!" loudly and repeatedly, they all start walking back to the coops. Many of them know up commands. Artemis and Bug have both learned to put their trains up if I ask (and that's a no-treat trick, they just do it). Beep knew "ask nicely" when she wanted something (which is what led to me training Eris with the buttons), so she would scrape her beak on me if she wanted something. Beep also played with a lot of different toys.
I guess the point is that they are pretty smart birds, given a chance and good circumstances. They can be incredibly stupid, too, but the majority of them are pretty smart most of the time. But they don't have a lot of patience for things that are not either immediately rewarding or that they choose to focus on. Beep once spent an hour trying to get the button off my jeans, but if you offer Bug a mouse and move it away before she can get it, she'll usually just stop caring. If you give a treat to one bird, they might snub it, but they'll kill a man for it if someone else gets it and acts like it's good.
So COULD they become interested in a pet puzzle and possibly solve one? Maybe? It really just depends on what's in it for them, and/or how interested someone else is, and/or if they think it's their idea. They don't really have a lot of grabbing strength in their beaks, so that factors in, too. They do NOT like to peck hard things.
They DO like to destroy stuff though. If you could make an edible tissue box, they would absolutely lose their shit about it. Every peafowl I've ever owned LOVES tearing tissues out of a tissue box and ripping tissues to shreds to try to eat. Don't know what that's about. Leftover raptor instincts to disembowel things, I guess.
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farfromstrange · 2 months
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Mismatched Bridesmaid | Matt Murdock x F!Reader
PART 2 of The Vault
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See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: Deciding to go to your old college roommate's wedding turns into a bad idea when you suddenly have to function as a bridesmaid until you're paired with a very handsome groomsman.
Warnings: Fluff, attempt at humor, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "good girl", One-Night Stand, shameless flirting, kind of "horny at first sight", so cheesy it might make you hate cheese
Word Count: 4.3k
A/n: I was wondering why this didn't post until I saw that I hit "save draft" instead of schedule, so this may come on time for some and too late for others, but I'm still awake, so it counts as the 15th. Also, when I wrote this it was after hinting at it on here, and I was excited at first, but I'm not too happy with it now because it's just silly and falls a little flat, in my opinion. This is why I went back in and edited a hell of a lot, adding some things, etc. Nevertheless, I promised to clear out the vault for this event, so this is it. I got inspired by seeing the She-Hulk clips when the episode with Matty came out. It may or may not be noticeable. We're also working with the Nelson, Murdock & Page narrative. Enjoy!
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You are not made for white-veil occasions. 
While weddings, in their essence, symbolize unity while covering different facets of romantic beauty, they are also inherently stressful for nearly everyone involved in the proceedings. Over the years of adulthood, you’ve found that weddings tend to end in disaster when you attend—and you are not particularly fond of engaging in drama.
When your old college roommate sent you an invitation to her wedding in June, you considered responding with no. You’ve been close for a few years, but then you graduated, found separate careers, and then never talked again. You weren’t sure why she would send you an invitation until you called the number on the back of the card and you began catching up. She told you that she wanted to invite you because you were a vital part of her early twenties, and it reminded you that you are both adults and you have both grown beyond what you thought possible, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her that you couldn’t make it to her wedding. Instead, you told her that you wouldn’t miss it for the world. That answer though seemed to have turned destiny against you. 
You were excited when you arrived at the chapel this morning, but as soon as your foot touched the holy ground, everything went wrong. Maybe it is because you’re an atheist and God hates you, or maybe Karma just really fucking loves toying with you. Either way, when your friend’s maid of honor—also one of the few people you hung out with during your wild college days—came up to you, looking pale and panicked, you knew that the curse you always bring to weddings was only continuing to wreak havoc. 
She said to you, “One of the girls got into a car accident on her way here. Don’t worry, she’s not dead, just a broken wrist, but that means we are one bridesmaid short. I need someone to step in before Janet finds out and cuts off my head for ruining her wedding day,” and she was deadly serious about it, too.
You knew that it was a mistake to come to this wedding, especially without a date or a plus-one to fall back on. 
You were so focused on marveling at the beautiful white and golden decorations living the aisle, fantasizing about the day you might be walking down one of those that you didn’t think anything could go wrong since everything had been going so right. You should have known better than to trust that treacherous feeling of excitement that you made sure to nurture before breakfast so you could enjoy the ceremony and the party afterward without making it dependent on the open bar—although that fact did help.
Instead of dreaming about free drinks though, you’re being squeezed into a satin green dress with a low cut in the front, and someone you don’t know is slathering burgundy lipstick onto your lips. They are purposely trying to turn you into a copy of all the other bridesmaids, and you hate it. You hate it so much you get the sudden urge to scratch your eyes out and tear the skin off your lips. 
Janet, the maid of honor, comes back up to you. She’s aged at least ten years since you last saw her when she pulled you away from the aisle. You feel for her. The entire weight of this wedding rests on her shoulders. 
She eyes you, checking your outfit, before giving you a curt nod. “Thank God, you’re hot,” she mutters. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it. 
“Thank you?” you answer awkwardly. 
“Alright.” She fixes the corners of your lipstick. “We need to pair you with a different guy than Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-To-Drive was supposed to walk down the aisle with. Your looks don’t match. You’ll get Kathy’s partner,” she says. “And we need to line up, like, now because shit is happening in five minutes, not a second later. We can’t give Bridezilla the time to kill us all.”
With a frown, you ask, “Is she aware at all of what’s happening?” 
Janet shakes her head. “No, and it’s better this way. Trust me.”
You stop questioning her. She knows what she’s doing. 
When she guides you outside to line up, you’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know the groom, and you don’t know his friends. You’re here on your own, and now you’re part of a bridal party that you are also barely familiar with, wearing a dress that you were forced into for the sake of aesthetics. You hate when something is reduced to aesthetics because beauty has many facets, and you would have walked down that aisle with anyone as long as you could get it over with. 
Until you see him. Strikingly dark hair in a perfectly cut tuxedo that underlines the muscles hiding underneath the fabric. His eyes are hidden behind round, red glasses that reflect the sunlight coming in through the already stained glass of the chapel’s windows. In his hands, he’s holding a white cane, leaning his entire weight on it as he waits. And he waits for none other than you. 
Janet paired you with the most beautiful man on this planet, you can’t deny that. The way he stands there, his sharp jawline on full display—he looks ethereal. Just looking at him makes you sweat, and you’re starting to panic. What if she made a mistake? You can’t do this. You can’t—
“Matt,” she says and shoves you beside him into the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen. 
Janet introduces you, and then she’s gone. She pushes you into the cold water, forcing you to learn how to swim. 
He tilts his head in your direction. “Hi,” he says. The sound of his voice resembles the purr of a black cat as it reverberates, but his grin reminds you of the Devil himself. 
Fuck. Me. 
You either did something very wrong to land here, or you did everything right. 
“Hi,” you stammer. One look at him, and the blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face is burning. 
He offers you his hand. “I’m Matt,” he says as if Janet didn’t already expose that to you.
Still, you take his hand. It’s the polite thing to do. “And I’m not supposed to be here.” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so stupid.
Matt chuckles. Even his laugh sounds bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. “I, uh, gathered as much.”
“I’m sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m not—this is really weird. I don’t even know what to say.” You pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, maybe that will make it less embarrassing.
His features soften. There is no judgment. You can’t see his eyes, but there is a certain softness about him that throws you off guard, but you no longer feel like you’re drowning. “If it helps, I’m only here because I helped the groom graduate law school by writing his essays, and he feels like he owes me, so…I also don’t want to be here,” he says, and he reaches up to adjust his glasses. You get a small glimpse of his eyes. They’re hazel. Beautiful. He has an aura that draws you in; it’s not just his physical beauty that strikes you.
This man—this magnetic force of a man called Matt—is a stranger. He’s a man you were paired with to walk down the aisle even though you were never meant to be a bridesmaid in this wedding in the first place. So many things are happening to and around you at once, and you can feel the flames starting to burn and sizzle away at your skin. 
You should pull yourself together. You shouldn’t stare at him. You shouldn’t listen to your heart which is hammering against your ribcage. But the emotions are already running high and you can’t possibly focus on anything else. He’s like a lifeline to you.
And God, you want him to put those calloused hands on your skin and take you to bed. But that’s not something to think about in a place of God. On the day of someone else’s wedding. Except that you can’t think of anyone else, and his proximity isn’t making the situation any better for you.
Another blush threatens to take over your features. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he says. “I have a firm. Nelson, Murdock & Page.”
“Here in New York?”
“Hell’s Kitchen, yeah. Me and my associates just reopened our doors to the public after a rough year.”
“Oh, that’s...cool. I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you. And what do you do, if I may ask?”
His interest takes you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer his question. You tell him your profession, and how you met the bride, and he listens without another word. No man has ever paid you this much attention before.
Though Janet meant it when she said that you will have to start walking in exactly five minutes, not a second longer. She passed by everyone, handing out bouquets. Green with hints of red and gold. It fits the theme. They’re beautiful, but the flowers within the bouquet become a problem when she hands you your own set. 
“Janet,” you stop her from leaving. “I can’t take these.”
“The fuck you can’t,” she retorts. 
“Seriously, I can’t. I’m allergic to Jasmines. I’ll sneeze.”
She glares at you. “Then fucking hold it.”
There is no arguing with her, and she passes by you to continue putting everyone in their places. You stare down at the bouquet, your nose already starting to itch. The smell alone is enough to make you nauseous.
To your surprise, Matt reaches for the flowers. “May I?” he asks, but he has already grabbed a hold of them.
“Sure,” you answer, curious about where he’s going with this.
“Hold this.” He guides the top of his cane into your hand.
His fingers feel along the red ribbon. He takes a whiff. There are so many scents that would be overwhelming even to someone without heightened senses due to a lacking fifth one, so you’re even more surprised when he finds the Jasmines without a struggle. He traces the petals just to make sure, and he quickly pulls the flowers out of the bouquet, tightening the ribbon around the now smaller girth in the process.
Tossing them behind one of the pillars in the corridor, he hands them back to you. “Here,” he murmurs. “For you.”
Words elude you. 
“Are you allergic to anything else?” The question is valid, considering you’re still not making a move to take the bouquet from him. 
You exhale a shaky breath, reaching for the flowers, and answer without missing another beat, “Weddings.”
That elicits a giggle from him. The sound is enough to make your heart melt. Does he know what he’s doing to you?
Matt opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of heels clicking against the marble floors stops you both dead in your tracks.
Your entire body recoils when the bride’s voice rings out, echoing, “Who the fuck mismatched my bridesmaids?”
A hand rests on your bicep, and you don’t even have to look down to know that it is Matt’s. He’s the only one standing to your right, anyway. He squeezes as though to let you know that you won’t lose your head, but you’re not so sure now that your college roommate is glaring at you in a white dress that reminds you of a pastry, and her eyes are full of fury. He can’t see it, but he would cower in fear if he did.
Thankfully, Janet pulls her aside, explaining the situation to her. 
“She what?!” she screeches. “On my wedding day? Are you kidding me?”
“Yes, because car accidents respect timing when it comes to special occasions,” Janet counters.
You snort. Matt beside you digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but even he can’t hide his amusement.
“Oh, snap,” you mutter under your breath. 
“Shots have been fired,” he says.
“I think we’re witnessing a double homicide.”
“I’m not a very credible witness. I can only describe how it sounded, unfortunately.”
Your snort turns into a laugh. The bride’s head snaps around, and you go quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” you choke out.
“If she decides to throw a punch at your pretty face,” Matt’s breath tickles your ear, “I can be your attorney and sue her ass.”
This time, you’re conscious enough to slap a hand in front of your mouth to stifle your reaction. “How do you know I’m pretty?” you whisper back between little giggles.
He shrugs with a smirk of his own. “I just know.”
He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and you have no choice but to submit.
Janet manages to bring some calm back to her friend eventually, and then it’s showtime. Right on the second, it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and you have never been happier about a strict schedule and someone adamant about keeping that schedule for the sake of all of your lives.
Your roommate has always been a very dominant personality, so you’re aware of the things she can do when she doesn’t get what she wants. 
An 80s pop ballad begins to play. You make sure to match your pace to everyone else but also make sure that you’re not running away from your partner.
You may have been a mismatched bridesmaid, but you can’t complain about the company. 
Against all odds, the service is beyond beautiful. It’s not often you get to stand so close when two people who seem to truly love each other make a vow to be there for each other for the rest of their lives. You can’t help but shed a tear. They complement each other perfectly. Is that ever in the cards for you? Will you ever be able to have what they have? Or will you always feel like you’re not worthy of this kind of unconditional love and endless devotion—of someone wanting to spend the rest of their life with you?
You look over at Matt. The hint of a cross necklace is starting to peek out underneath his dress shirt. Of course, he’s Catholic. 
He carries himself with such a grace that puts everyone else in this room to shame. Does he know that you’re staring at him? You hope not.
After the ceremony, you lose sight of Matt in the masses. He doesn’t owe you a goodbye, but you still feel a little disappointed when you return to the dressing room and finally peel the satin dress off of your very sweaty skin. 
At the party afterward, he’s still nowhere to be found. You give up. Not that you want to spend the evening with him anyway, but you kind of do. You drown your sorrows in a glass of vodka cranberry and a bowl of olives. They taste like rotten meat, but there are too many people by the buffet for your liking. The last thing you want to do is mingle and get asked stupid questions by people you don’t even know. So, you stay back, and you watch from afar as everyone is having the time of their lives not so far away from you, but far enough for you to breathe.
“And here I thought weddings were supposed to be a joyous occasion,” Matt pipes up beside you, and you twirl around in your chair to face him with wide eyes.
You didn’t expect to see him back here. “Hi!” you exclaim. “What’re you—I thought you left.”
“Nah,” he says. “I just had to take care of some things.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, that’s why I asked.”
Folding his cane, Matt lowers himself down on one of the chairs beside you and orders himself a beer with the bartender. “Let’s just say that I have an important court case coming up and I had to make a call.”
You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds a lot more exciting than my life, to be honest.”
“You are sulking at a wedding. Thinking about an ex?”
“More like life in general.”
“Ah, yes, the eternal fear of dying alone.” He raises his bottle to yours. “I’ll drink to that.”
A laugh escapes you. “That was cynical,” you say.
“And you’re not?”
He beats you at your own damn game, and he finally gets that smile he has been vying for. 
“Are you smiling?” his voice is barely above a whisper. 
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Maybe.” But the smile is audible in your voice, giving you away.
Matt smirks, nodding his head. “Good girl.” 
The sharp vodka runs down the wrong pipe. You cough. Did he just—
He did.
He pats your back, and his hand lingers a lot longer than it should. He looks so smug. Pleased with himself. That part of him is stupidly attractive to you, even though you would usually hate such cockiness in any other man. But Matt isn’t like any other man.
You apologize for your reaction, but he should be the one apologizing to you for throwing you off your game. What is he doing? You can’t read him. You wish you could because that would make this so much easier, but that’s probably the point. He wants to tease you. He wants to mess with your head. He’s a dick. A fucking attractive dick that could tell you to do just about anything and you in your flustered state would go along with it without hesitations. That’s the kind of control he has over you, and you just met. It feels like a twisted form of destiny, but you can’t quite believe it. Yet.
“Do you always do that?” you dare to ask.
He frowns. “Do what?”
“Flirt with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests?”
A playful smirk plays on his lips.  
“It’s been known to happen,” says Matt.
You poke your tongue against the soft tissue of your cheek. “Cheeky,” you murmur.
“That’s also been known to happen.”
“What, being cheeky with—”
“—with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests? Yes.” He’s catching on quickly.
You laugh and nod. “Yeah, that.”
“I do have to say though,” he adds, and for a second you think he might ruin the joke instead of playing it out further, but Matt is full of surprises, “Out of all the mismatched bridesmaids I’ve met in my thirty-something years of, um, living, you’re my favorite so far.”
With your hand, you start fanning your face rather dramatically. “I feel honored,” you say. 
Again, he chuckles. “You should be.”
“Why, because you’re so irresistible?”
“I was going to say that I don’t like a lot of people because, you know, they’re dicks, but that works too.”
“Wow.” You take another sip. The liquor burns its way down your sore esophagus. “You have balls, man.”
“Is that a problem?” he counters with a question.
The answer comes naturally. “No,” you say. “I like it.”
“Good.” Hearing you clink the ice cubes against your empty glass by swirling it around, Matt concludes that you need a refill. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks.
The question sounds so innocent, but the look on his face renders you speechless. His hand inches dangerously close to yours on the counter, his knee brushing yours, and the heat shoots straight to your neglected cunt. 
Fuck this.
“You could do that, or we could skip that part and just…you know.”
One brush of your hand against his thigh, that’s all it takes for him to know. 
Pushing you through the door to his apartment a few minutes later, his lips are on you. The door falls shut with a loud bang, and he presses you against the wall of his hallway. 
His lips feel like a silky cloud of lewdness. The way he kisses you is utterly erotic. Your lips part in a delicious moan that he swallows with a grunt of his own. He swallows it all, shoving his tongue into the tight confines of your mouth, and exploring every inch he can reach. He tastes you. He consumes you. 
His hands desperately search for an ounce of bare skin. He’s tugging at your clothes, sliding and tearing them aside. Once his fingers finally brush over the bare skin of your stomach, he melts. 
You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your leg hooks around his waist. You can’t wait. He has ignited a fire within you that no one has been able to light before. He’s touching you with a precision that puts your former lovers to shame. He’s paying attention to your every breath and heartbeat, and with every touch, he asks, “May I?” 
You don’t even make it to the bedroom. Once he has successfully removed the bottom half of your clothes, he falls to his knees. He is a sight to behold. The disarray of colors that shines into his apartment illuminates his face, bathing it in a selection of hues that bring out his best features. 
Matt has yet to take off his glasses, and you take the opportunity to tear them away from his face. You’re gentle though. You ask him, “May I?” mirror the question he has been asking you throughout the night, and after a thick swallow, he nods.
You caress his cheek as you remove his glasses, and when you finally see his hazel eyes in all of their glory, you have to bow down to capture his lips in a soft kiss. 
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper. “So fucking beautiful, Matt.”
He whimpers. You could have sworn to have imagined it, but when you stroke his cheek with such a gentleness it almost makes him recoil in anguish, you know that you didn’t imagine the sound from his lips. You kiss it away. You kiss all of his insecurities away. You want him to feel as good as he is making you feel. You don’t know him, but you want to get to know him, and if he’s ready to surrender himself to you, you are more than ready to do the same for him. He can feel that with every brush of your fingertips and every kiss you deliver to his plump lips that taste like heaven and hell in itself.
Your words don’t leave him cold. His cock is aching in his pants—you take note of his impressionable size, which only makes you more excited for what’s to come—but he refuses to take it out. Not until you’re fully satisfied. To be honest, you could come just from staring at him on his knees in front of you, looking like he would lay the world to your feet and kill everyone who has ever dared to hurt you, but that is not enough for him. 
He needs the experience. Feeling your skin, tasting you, and breathing in all facets of your natural scent mixed with the artificial one from your shampoo. He can’t get enough of it. Of you. Of everything about and within you. He’s as attracted to your body as he is consumed by your soul. You’ve got him in a deadlock, but he would never complain about that.
You gasp when Matt grabs your thigh and throws it over his shoulder. Your panties are gone within seconds, torn on the floor somewhere. You’re completely bare to him. 
You want to warn him that you didn’t shave, but he doesn’t care. 
Before you know it, he has flattened his tongue against your pussy, and he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit. 
“Fuck!” you cry out, reaching for support on the wall behind you.
He flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, testing the waters before he sucks it into his mouth. 
His grip on your thigh becomes bruising. Matt eats you out like he has been starving for years and you are his first and last meal. He sucks on your clit, and he fucks you with his tongue. Your pussy is the altar he worships at. Your arousal is his holy water. He dives deeper and deeper into the wetness between your thighs, and he moans loudly when you pull at his hair.
“Fuck, Matt–” You’re clawing at whatever you can find. It feels so good. You’re higher than you have ever been.
The sound of his mouth working your slick folds toward eternal bliss is obscene and utterly sinful. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs. The pain grounds you in the here and now, making you focus on the tidal wave that is about to crash into you and tear you to shreds. 
You can’t even warn him before your orgasm takes over, and it takes you into another dimension. You come with a shout of his name. It’s nothing short of explosive. The orgasm drags on through his mouth on your clit, relentlessly sucking until the nerves jump, and you’re begging him to stop. 
His face glistens. With every kiss up your body, Matt marks you. By the time he has reached your quivering lips, he still tastes like you.
“You did so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl for me.”
You exhale. Without his shoulders to hold onto, you would probably lose your footing. “You’re crazy,” is all you can say. 
He smirks. “In a good way, I hope.”
“Yes. Fuck.”
“Regret coming home with me?”
“Absolutely not.”
That’s all he needed to hear. He lifts you with ease. “Then I’m going to make it worth your while.”
And when your back hits the soft mattress and silk sheets of his bed, you don’t doubt that he is going to make good on his promise. 
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Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama
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captainpondlilly · 4 months
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Okay! The Gilear plush has arrived. This is my best attempt at all of his lines. Two have been unintelligible to me, and several are pretty long and fast which made it hard to follow.
My search history is.. hospitals near me, foot stuck in object, head stuck in object
You're low, he's low, It's Gilear's day baby!*
A guy on the street kicked me in the nuts as hard he could
I don't like "lunchlad"
Help me to understand what I have done to deserve this
My horoscope says "today is a good day to die motherfucker"
I ate a quick cup of yogurt on the way over here to bolster my spirits after I changed, I'm ever so sorry
What do you mean "When" life gives you lemons
I went to apply for the guidance counselor position but I was usurped by a drug dealing werewolf named Jawbone
In my haste to put the armor on I buckled the leg plate and think I clipped the tip of my penis against one of the leg plates and Everytime I move it feels like it might fall off so I ASSURE you demon I have no pride to speak of!
In highschool I was voted "Most Likely To Get Pushed Out Of A Tree"
My car was repossessed by the ride share app that I was working for
It's actually a good thing that no one came to my birthday party because the bounce house flooded and was swept out to sea
I just discovered that *all* of my emails have been going to everyone's spam
Unfortunately I have been banned from that hot air balloon service not because of anything that happened to me in particular but the guys who run it just sort of know my whole deal
Mmm this yogurt tastes like *potatoes*
I asked the woman at Home Depot why my plants kept dying and she said it seemed like they were reaching away from the sun
I've found out recently that one of my shoes is so filled with mildew because a pipe in my bedroom is leaking and I've developed a fungal infection in my foot which I didn't know was possible for elves to get
I don't think that I've ever "Peaked" in that we started neutral and have been going downhill ever since
I am currently trapped in a storm drain. The bottom half of me is above the ground, the other is below
Another Own Goal for Gilear Faeth, yes
Everyone knows you eat 7 spiders in your sleep every year, but I have a bunch coming into me the backway
My sandcastle I'm afraid was destroyed, as I was about to finish it, the tide came in and with it a man holding a bazooka who shot me and killed me
I know you're not going to believe this but Ive just been kicked by a snake
I found out the hard way that people can legally reject status as an emergency contact
The title of my autobiography is going to be Gilear Faeth: Please Stop
On my way here I was carrying a large bowl of Italian wedding soup which shattered on the ground in front of me and several of the small pasta balls rolled through the cracks and alerted vermin to my presence. I've since learned after a trip to the hospital I am deathly allergic to the sting of millipedes which is a way of me saying I need someone to come down to the hospital and pay for this. There is a doctor holding a gun to my head and now that I think about it this clinic is in the back of a storage unit and I think have gone to the wrong place
he said and I quote "he'd stomp my goon ass" if I ever got on his bus again
Gorthalax it was very nice to meet you, you've made a cuckold of me
We're the throw up boys!*
I've been informed that the brownies I consumed were laced with cannabis and rat poison
I am completely unprepared for the perils ahead and am deeply frightened, I'll go get the coffee
A gorilla monster punched me so hard in the back of the head I died
Today I have been hit by 3 scooters
Everytime you squeeze my hand it breaks several small bones
My imaginary friend as a child ghosted me because he said I was too depressing
Do you want me to go back? I warn you, it will break me
Can I interest you in an herbal soda? You must understand I am an intern at a ponzi scheme*
When I go to sleep at night I dream of a world where I might be able to walk through a field without stepping on a rake or gopher hole
If anyone needs me... I will be surprised.
If it wasn't for bad luck, Id have no luck is both true and what was written upon the billboard I crashed through
I wonder if any of these will feature in Junior year 👀
*Thanks to @cappa-cappa for telling me the lines I wasn't able to make out!!
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harry-on-broadway · 9 months
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One More
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It never failed to surprise you just how well you fit in his arms.
His chest was sticky from sweat and beer and God knows what else, but when he found you backstage and pulled you into his embrace, you didn’t resist. You knew he needed the hug more than you did.
Emotions had been running high over the past few weeks and you were more than happy to be the grounding force he needed as the tour that had occupied nearly two years came to an end. You allowed yourself to be rocked back and forth as he squeezed you tighter, his nose buried in the top of your head as his breathing slowed and the adrenaline left his body. He was clearly starting to calm down.
“Um, Harry? Could you…?” You moved to loosen his arms from around you and take a deep breath.
“Oh, sorry,” he said. His eyes were focused on you but you could tell his mind was miles away. “Give me a few to clean up and then we can head back?” He looked at you for confirmation.
“Sounds good, baby. Take your time.”
He left you with one last kiss and shuffled into his bathroom, towel and robe in hand. As he showered you used the time to clean up your own belongings that were scattered around the room – the glass of wine you’d had before the show, the jacket you’d foolishly brought with you thinking the fiery temps would go down with the sun, and your phone charger, which you’d already forgotten twice in the week you’d been on the road with Harry (something he hadn’t let you forget). When you’d finished your sweep of the room, you planted yourself on the couch. As you’d guessed, a few minutes to Harry meant closer to 90, and you passed the time chatting with the various members of his team that filtered through.
Jeff, Brad, Pauli, Sarah, Mitch, everyone had the same melancholic smile on their face, as if they couldn’t bring themselves to admit that the end was nearing.
“Doesn’t feel real does it?” Pauli asked. “It kind of felt like it was going to last forever.”
You’d never admit it to Harry, but the small selfish part of yourself that you tried to hide was extremely happy that the tour was ending. You’d long been aware that dating Harry meant sharing him with millions of others, a fact he’d warned you of over ice cream on your second date, but his career had never felt this present.
You didn’t know what had made it so hard this time around. Maybe it was the crush of tour dates you’d planned your lives around, maybe it was the attention that came with winning multiple Grammys, or maybe just the fact that you’d both had to return to real life after finding comfort in the pandemic bubble. Regardless, you were thrilled with the fact that, starting on Sunday, he’d be in your shared bed for more than a few days each month.
“Ready to go, love,?” Harry poked his head round the corner. In the heat of the night, he’d swapped his usual post-show hoodie for a worn t-shirt, and had pulled his wet curls back with a clip that you were pretty sure you’d worn on the flight here.
“Took you long enough,” you said with a smirk.
“OK, sassy,” Harry said with a light laugh. “I can just leave you here.”
“You’d never do that,” you scoffed.
“Awfully confident for someone who’s about to spend the night in a dressing room.”
“You’d miss your nightly back scratches,” you said confidently. “Somehow I don’t think those fall under Jeff’s purview.”
“You’re right. That’s Tom’s job.” You both burst into giggles as Harry pulled you into a standing position. His eyes lingered on yours, taking a moment before kissing you gently.
“We should probably head out,” you murmured. “It’s going to be a big couple of days.”
“Yeah…”
You bumped his hip with yours, and he deftly grabbed both his bag and yours in his right hand, taking your hand in his left. The car ride was quiet, even more so than usual, as Harry stared out the window at the passing lights. Even though he was once again in his own world, his hand worked overtime spinning the ring you wore on your finger, a motion you knew was soothing to him.
Back at your hotel, fatigue quickly caught up to the both of you as you moved slowly through your evening routines, drowsily dodging each other around the bathroom sink as you brushed your teeth and washed your face. Pajamas on, you climbed into bed, Harry following close behind as he turned off the light.
You flipped to your right side, facing Harry as your eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room. Like clockwork, his hand found your hip where he began rubbing small circles on the bit of skin that was exposed, while your hand made its way to his bare back, scratching dully at his soft skin.
“Just one more show,” you sighed.
“Yep.”
“Why so sad?” you prodded. “Not ready to come back to my snoring and blanket thievery?” You heard a soft noise come from him. Whether it was a sigh or a laugh you couldn’t tell.
“I’m really nervous.” It was as if the blanket of darkness made it easier for him to be vulnerable. “I’m really nervous about what Saturday is going to be like and everything that’s going to happen…after.” You could hear him swallow thickly. “It’s like I’m riding to the edge of a cliff and have no idea what’s on the other side.”
“That’s a perfectly normal thing to feel, H. It’s a big change.”
“And I just feel guilty too…” The floodgates had opened and there was no going back now. “I’m so excited to just be me. Be us. But like it feels selfish to not want to do anything. Like why do I have that luxury when others don’t.” He took a shuddering breath. “But then there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to end things and stay on that stage forever which is so unfair to you…”
“Hey,” you said sternly. “Don’t you dare worry about me. I’m never going to be mad about getting to spend more time with you, but I also know how much performing means to you. And I’d never ask you to give that up.” You flattened your hand against his back, letting him feel the cool metal band of the ring he’d given you on one knee earlier this year. “You’re stuck with me, Styles. I’m not going anywhere.”
He snorted a laugh. “Still don’t know how I hoodwinked you into this deal but I’ll take it.” He nuzzled in closer to you. “Everything just feels so…big right now. It’s like almost too much to think about.”
“So, don’t,” you said plainly, perfectly aware that your advice was easier said than done. “Saturday is just another show. And then you’re going to take a break and then you’ll just do another show. We don’t know where or when, but I promise you there will be another show.”
You could feel his even and measured inhales and exhales as he mulled over your words. You wriggled even closer to him. “You have one more show, babe,” you whispered against his lips.
“One more,” he repeated.
“So make it the best one yet.”
***
A/N: Just a quick little blurb ahead of the final show 😭 Would love to hear what you think!
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wonjns · 9 months
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caught you. – s.jy
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pairing. sim jaeyun x male reader
genre. smut
summary. jake would’ve never believed it if someone told him his cute, innocent boyfriend was actually a horny mess who just needed to be fucked - that is, he wouldn’t believe it until he saw it himself.
includes. bottom!malereader, virgin!reader, corruption kink, blowjob (reader rec.), degradation
WC. 2.1k
°A/N. . . requested by anon ✓ “Hey~ So I was thinking to request a Enhypen Jake smut where y/n was a virgin but Jake found him humping his pillow after he came home stressed . And maybe if u can add some dirty talking, humiliating👀” || so happy to finally be posting this bc the male reader content has been so dry lately 😵‍💫 NOT PROOFREAD!
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you had found yourself in quite the predicament this evening, regretting all of your decisions after telling your boyfriend you didn't need to accompany him to his recent music video shooting.
despite how excited jake was to share the world of entertainment with you and let you know you were free to join him on his schedules, you often felt like a burden. so, today you reassured your ray of sunshine that you would be fine at home, giving yourself a day to just lounge around and catch up on your favorite series.
but god was it boring, and damn were you horny.
your relationship with jake had been pretty innocent thus far, both of you radiating wholesome energy and hardly going further than innocent kisses and cuddling. but as time went on, you found it increasingly harder to control yourself around him.
maybe it was the styling or the overall confidence of this new era, but something about jake just had you constantly engaging in an inner war to not pounce across the table every time your boyfriend licked sauce from his lips at dinner or groaned after tasting good food.
yet, you were just too nervous to bring up your desires to jake. you were a virgin, and jake knew that, so he never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured into taking things a step further. in his mind, you would come to him when you were ready.
you, on the other hand, were petrified at the idea that your inexperience would humiliate you.
you knew it was irrational, but you thought your lack of knowledge would actually run your boyfriend off to find someone who could satisfy him. countless times you've caught his massive bulge printing through his sweats, and regardless of your desire to just take him whole and swallow him for everything that he's got, you had no idea how.
thus, causing all of your filthy wants and thoughts to be restrained in your mind in the deep hours of the night, your hand shoved down your boxers.
today was no different; your alleged relaxing day at home went to shit as soon as your phone dinged with photo jake sent to you on set. you couldn't believe all it took was one selfie of his smirk being covered by a lip bite to cling to one of his pillows (doused in the scent of his cologne and shampoo).
you changed into one of jake's oversized hoodies and stripped yourself of your shorts off until you were left in your boxers, throwing your leg over the pillow as you admired the selfie. however, before you knew it you had succumbed to even watching his fancams.
it was so pitiful, but the relief your clothed erection felt from the pressure of jake's firm pillow sent your mind reeling. the rocking of your hips only sped up the more you watched him roll his eyes or grab his crotch during concert clips -- and your mind wandered to how he was probably doing those exact things for the camera right now.
after losing track of time, you were growing impatient at how unsatisfying the pillow was becoming compared to how your boyfriend's strong hands would feel. your mild whimpers were quickly turning to muffled sounds of frustration, discarding your phone to ground your hips into the pillow harder. you squeezed your eyes shut in chase of at least some relief.
but it seems you had gotten too caught up in trying to find your climax, because you were frozen in your tracks after hearing a throat being cleared at the door.
a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as you turned your head to see none other than jake at the door, eyebrows raised in shock.
"b-babe," you muttered, scrambling off of his pillow as your cheeks burned red. "you-... you....."
you couldn't even begin to form a sentence or excuse, skin feeling on fire from the way he was looking at you. jake couldn't believe his eyes, the image of his sweet and innocent boyfriend grinding on his pillow like a bitch in heat.
"y/n..." he uttered just above a whisper, "what exactly is going on here?"
he was in shock, but he had been turned on in seconds. you think your eyes are playing tricks on you the way you see a slight smirk growing on his face.
"i just.... i.... how long have you been here?" you fumble, sitting up and sliding your phone under the blankets.
jake ignores your question, cocking his head to the side as he approaches the bed. you feel too humiliated to move as he kneels, his head at the same level as the pillow you had trapped between your thighs.
"keep going."
you furrowed your brows in disbelief at what you heard.
"wha-"
"i said keep going." jake cut in, eyes now dark and hooded as he stares lasers into your skin. "if you missed me so much to start humping my shit, i wanna watch it happen."
you had never once heard jake's voice in this tone, and you were too intimidated to respond. his whole aura took on a dominance unfamiliar to you, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your boner return in full force.
slowly moving, you took his pillow between your legs once more and curled deeper into his hoodie, unable to make eye contact as you started rutting your hips.
"look at me while you do." jake ordered, not a single waiver in his voice as he spoke.
your eyes widened in worry, silently refusing to look up.
"y/n, be a good boy and look at me."
the pet name caused your dick to twitch, and a soft moan escaped your lips when you remade contact with the idol's dark, lust filled orbs.
you could feel the heat of the room intensifying as you sped up your hips, jake looking down to your pelvis and taking in the show. you whimpered when he sensually licked his bottom lip with the same tongue you'd been fantasizing over for weeks. you felt so shameful, but were getting turned on rapidly as the seconds went by.
"j-jake, please." you whispered, causing his eyes to shoot back up to you.
"what is it, babe?" he responded, a devilishly teasing tone to his words. "what do you want?"
"touch me... please touch me."
your weak plea made his bulge solidify tighter in his pants, making him bite his lip just as he did in the photo while his eyes sized you up and down.
he was trying his best to hide how aroused he was, because he really wanted to watch you cum like this first, but the glint in your begging eyes caused him to lose all motive. your little bulge was just so cute to him, he wanted to be the reason you reached your high first.
"oh, baby..." he groaned, his hands lunging at you to grab the back of your neck.
jake surged forwards, connecting his ridiculously soft gummy lips with yours. he swallowed you whole in an opened mouth kiss, not even waiting a second to slip his thick tongue into your mouth and taste your desperacy.
you moaned loudly, hips stilling as the satisfying feeling of jake studying the grooves of your cavern overtook you. your hands gripped for his hair, pulling him even closer to kiss him back with a sloppy passion.
he pulled away for just a moment to look into your hooded eyes, nipping at your bottom lip just to hear you whine again. he caught you in another heated kiss while simultaneously shoving the pillow out of the way so he could mount the bed.
minutes later you were pressed deeper into the mattress by the older male without breaking the kiss once, your hands gripping any and everything they could feel. jake reached down to feel your hardened cock through your boxer, causing you to break the kiss in a groan.
"how bad do you want me to make you come, baby?" he teased, dipping down to nibble along your collarbone.
you wanted it so bad you couldn't even put it into words, babbling nonsense at him and throwing your head back as his large palm stroked you over your clothes.
"use your words, y/n. you were needy enough to try to fuck a pillow but now that i'm here you cant even speak." jake taunted, a deep blush returning to your cheeks.
you were so embarrassed by the whole scenario, but the way jake was treating you had your mind hazed in desire. the way your body shook in pleasure from his hands alone did all the talking for you, but he needed to hear it from you.
"s-s'badly, jake. please, i need you."
"oh, you need me?" jake taunted, slowly slipping your boxers off. "if only you had told me earlier, prince, i could have been given you what you needed. but you just had to be a needy little whore all by your lonesome."
he licked his lips hungrily once more seeing your erected cock practically begging for more attention. he pushed the hoodie you wore higher up your chest, trailing wet kisses down your stomach until he finally reached your core, flattening his tongue on your pulsing shaft.
you groaned noisily before biting your lip, tangling your hands in jake's curls and pulling. it was his turn to send a moaning vibration through you, your legs threatening to close around his head.
it seemed jake could sense it, because his strong grip went from his hips to your bare thighs, holding them apart and he licked up and down your sensitive cock.
"fuck, so good, jake" you breathed out, legs trembling at the sensation of his warm tongue teasing your length.
your boyfriend offered a hum in response before enclosing those plump lips around your member, sucking experimentally. you would've screamed if the feeling didn't completely throw you in a blissful haze right off the bat, your mouth flying open in a silent moan.
it was obvious that jake could tell how much you liked it, him sucking harder before wrapping his tongue around your cock as he continued. this only went on for no more than a minute before you were announcing you were about to come - which turned out to be a mistake as the idol ceased all his actions, releasing your length from those heaven sent lips.
this made you squirm desperately, tears prickling at your eyes.
"n-no! why'd you stop?" you whined to your boyfriend, who only smirked in response before kissing your tip.
"i'm just so disappointed you didn't tell me how bad you wanted this, babe." jake responded with a mocking tone, leaving butterfly kisses around the area you needed him most. "maybe i'm just not good enough for you..."
an army of no's fled from your lips, shaking your head as you gripped onto jakes broad shoulders.
"jake, please, you're the only one who can make me feel this way. please keep going. i promise i'll be good for you." you babbled, bucking your hips up towards his face.
this made jake chuckle darkly.
"well, if you promise."
and with that, he returned to his ministrations on your cock, sucking powerfully and bobbing his head along your length while holding your waist down. he brought a hand up to fondle your balls while drool started sliding down your member and onto the mattress, sending you into cloud nine.
it wasn't until he moaned deeply around your cock after getting a taste of your precum that you finally reached your climax, releasing your love liquids into his mouth while your whole body went limp.
the feeling was like nothing you had ever imagined, jake's eager tongue cleaning up the mess from your skin feeling much better than the tissues you'd sneak into your room.
you thanked the shaggy haired male as your eyes started fluttering closed, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your thighs nearly lulling you to sleep.
however a firm smack to one of your thighs jolted you back awake, looking down at jake in confusion.
"ah ah, baby. i think it's your turn to take care of me now, don't you think?" he piped up.
you followed his line of sight trailing south to the raging boner still standing tall in his pants, causing your mouth to water.
"theres a lot i have to teach you, baby boy."
now was finally your time, and you couldn't have been any happier that today of all days was when jake sim finally caught you.
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© 𝐟𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐢 — all rights reserved
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greekceltic · 3 months
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Jacky has a haunted arm. It started as a roleplay thing that I didn't think I would make canon, but I probably will. The situations it creates are fun. Anyway, for our amusement she can use it to touch ghosts so she scared hers. (Art doesn't quite match the writing). You can read the roleplay clip under the read more or on toyhouse.
GreekCeltic-
Junior was where she left him. He glanced at her. Same face. Same bags under his eyes and blushless pallor. What did that bandit say?
  When eyes meet, the soul has made love?
Yeah he was wrong.
Junior turned back around and she wondered how far she could walk before he was compelled to join her. She felt a little bad for not asking, but the feeling had no stay power. His wants and needs took a backseat to hers and she had found a way to make herself okay with that.
He could talk. It was within his power to ask her to put him in someone else’s care any time he wanted. After being left in the woods she could understand why he wouldn't want to be parked on Vlinder's hearth- in the same forest -but there were other people in their group who would travel. All basically good people.
Picking her was self sabotage.
Idiot.
She walked all the way in and shut the door behind her. The wind feathered a few rug ends but didn't bother with him.
  Maybe he's like AI and can't defy me, she wondered. Like bullshit television. She had never made the leap that it could be worse. Jacky felt that she was babysitting and had exactly as much authority as a teenager over a nine year old. In the end, not very much at all. She kept waiting for his tantrum, wanting it because after all that had happened it would make sense, even be healthy, but it never came.
She stumbled back toward the fur mat she had grown to hate since she woke up and stared down at it, too tired to sleep. There was such a thing. Jacky swayed weakly near it and turned away.
She looked at him again and ground her bottom jaw.
  Dummy should be begging to leave.
She hated the way he idled against the wall like a toy soldier waiting for something to do. That was the kind of thing that got ice put down your shorts at sleep overs. The idea of that made her spine prickle in a bad way, but it made her think. Jacky tilted back and lidded her eyes. She reached for one of the support pillars and rested her weight on it, two feet closer to him.   I could do it. She moved her feet, taking care not to scuff them on the floor. She didn't have to worry about the boards creaking. If they didn't notice Vlinder they weren't going to notice her. There were no more pillars between them, but she thought she'd make it. She tried, and on the way thought about how many nights he'd spent right there in a different room. Waiting or staring, as engaged as a coat put away on a hanger. He didn't even breathe loudly because he didn't breathe anymore.   DO something! The last few feet ended with her wobbling behind him, alarmingly silent, but not very steady. She reflexively tried to grab his shirt to pull it back with her good hand, but it went right through. Jacky didn't stop to wonder if he'd noticed that. She stuck her *cold* hand out like a senile old woman with a fork. It went up his shirt and flattened on the part where his back sank in. It worked when she slapped him. No reason to think it wouldn't work now. Themascura--
The target of her ire had no idea.   None.   He was peacefully existing in a corner, appreciating the window. It was nice to have a different view. He liked trees. Not enough to have been okay with just their company for a few millennia, but enough to be okay staring at them for a few days.   It was pretty out there. There were squirrels. And birds! Not many of those in the city. The cats had mostly eaten them all-   Jacky was about to learn a whole lot of things in quick succession. One, she could in fact scare the shit out of a ghost. Two, despite being dead ghosts did in fact have startle responses. Three, when she was touching a ghost with her ghost hand apparently walls became interactable- because he slapped the window/wall with his belly when he jumped and it made a sound.   A beautiful hollow sound, like when you thumped a watermelon.   He left a foggy mark on the window when he hopped back. He was still hopping when he turned around, trying to shake the ice cube out of his shirt. His spine was still flickering when he got all the way turned- visible through his shirt and his front and almost as far as his shoulders. The look he gave her was universal. The sibling glance of- I WAS MINDING MY BUSINESS.   Here you are, starting some shit. He stuck a hand straight out for her face, confident it would go through, but also confident it would mess with her already wonky balance and depth perception. Time for you to take a time out on the floor. You pushed your luck to far today anyway.
GreekCeltic-- His reaction was Christmas. She wasn't sure what to make of his spine. Jacky looked at her hand and wondered if it had cannibalized him somehow. A week ago she had dumped all the extra stuff into Christoph's leg. That had been a surprise. Christoph was alive, there was no way to know it wouldn't do the opposite and suck Junior up like a straw, like it had Virgil's magic.   Oough, there was a mental image she did not enjoy. When she touched Christoph she went with a gut feeling that turned out to be right. Here too she decided to go with a gut feeling-- that it was fine. "Oh excuse me did I interrupt your vacant staring?" Jacky's hand was still up, she dropped it and raised her other one, rubbing her arm furiously like she was trying to warm it up. Cold fire appeared and walked toward her elbow. "Gonna do it again." She spread the fire to her good hand but she never got to try it. He threw his at her face- IN her face -and she spilled in stages. Mostly in slow, wobbly, backwards walking motions that ended up near the bed. She fell against the edge. She had been put to bed. OBNOXIOUS. Jacky leaned into her sprawled arm and chose to be happy he showed some life. She didn't think she could get up without crawling on all fours and that wouldn't be preferable. She was also tired. It was possible she had never been so tired in her life. She crawled over the edge and fell into the divot like a kitten into a laundry basket. She slept all of the night and most of the next day. The only time she got up was to wash. She made a point of it so history wouldn't have to repeat itself. Who knows how many rag baths she got during the week. One was too many. Two would have been life ending. Her hair was close to dry when she went back to sleep. She tried to make it longer, but felt harassed that she was not alone. Dreams had been hard to remember the first week, but they were piling up now. She didn't know if she was remembering things or adding fantasies to what she did. All she knew was she couldn't be her own witness. With each waking she was a little more confused and a little more convinced she shouldn't have gone back for the brooch. It could have waited. At the time the idea of leaving Junior out there to believe no one was coming was too much and it was too much now, but was it worth it?   The elf was back when she got up, laying beside her with his arm folded behind his head.   Him again. Jacky looked at him a minute, but decided she didn't really care. She didn't know why. It should have embarrassed her but it was like sleeping with a big white dog. She got the feeling he thought of her as a cat. She looked across the room and saw Herman on his back against the wall, also asleep. Some kind of spell had fallen over this house. She and Junior were exempt. She grabbed her poncho and went out the front door. The moonlit air was bright and icy. She wasn't wearing her shoes but she didn't expect to go far and wanted the snow to bite her feet a little. It felt good even when it stung. When she got to the gate she put her hand on it and flipped up the latch (too complicated for a dead guy, apparently), but never pushed it forward. It would have been easy, but the idea of the gate held fast. There was a bigger obstacle here than a physical one. I shouldn't, Jacky thought. More like I can't. She'd been thinking about this a lot and the conclusion she came to was damned if I do, damned if I don't.
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